Alyssa Helps Kristi Take a Chance

"Just whatever--take a chance."

I'm not sure if that can be considered advice in the literal sense, but it's been a guiding light in my relationship these days. The words were whispered to me more than a year ago by my partner and girlfriend, Alyssa. The first time I heard her say them, she was goading me into trying some kind of spicy food that she loved. We had ordered in from her favorite Thai restaurant, and I remember it vividly because the heat of the small bite I took set my mouth on fire like I had french kissed a blow torch. And all the while I was fanning my mouth, eyes tearing, Alyssa laughed the most sexily sadistic laugh I had ever heard come from her. After I glugged down my water, she handed me hers, mercifully, I thought, until she whispered, "water doesn't make the heat go away, it just spreads it around." I ignored her exhortation and downed the second bottle, still in agony as she laughed and shook her head. "I love when you take chances with me."

There was nothing immediately sexual about it, and nothing wild or debaucherous ensued in the moment. But there was just something about how she said it--completely saturated with love and affection and deep intimacy, that made me remember it so well. She's said it many times since, but in my mind I have heard it even more often. Not just when I am tasting a new dish for the first time, or picking out a dress, or walking unhurried in the rain, but when I remember all the ways Alyssa has changed my life for the better. How I trusted her to be my first same-sex partner. Trusted her to guide me and not let me fall by being open. How she held my hand tightly the night I told her I had told my family, including my daughter, about us being together. How all my worries and anxieties seem to melt away when I am with her, and taking that advice to heart in a broader way than she intended. 

"Just whatever--take a chance."

It wasn't until a few years ago that I ever had enough bravery to "take a chance." I sometimes smile at how silly I must sound--on this site, in my stories, or with Alyssa, when I pat myself on the back for doing something as "not-me" as having my nipples pierced after my divorce, or allowing a masseur in Beijing to give me a much more intimate massage than I had planned on. If you've followed my stories here at all, I suppose you can tell that I consider those experiences to be almost seismically daring, and I guess on a sliding scale, they were. For Alyssa, and compared to her willingness to cross lines at any moment, they seem like just another bite of Khua Kling. I marvel at her, and I think I would find it thrilling to share some of my beautiful girlfriend's derrings do with you. I already have butterflies knowing what I am about to write.

As most of you may know (if you have followed my stories here), I still live with my daughter Katie, although for all intents and purposes, she mostly lives away at college where she is pursuing her masters. So for the past two years, there has been almost no overlap in the time Alyssa has spent here in my home when Katie has been home for summers or breaks. In that time, Alyssa has exhibited some very uninhibited and sexy habits--like walking around topless, for instance. I know it's not a monumental thing, but it is surely nothing I have been used to in my home, which I had previously shared for more than a decade with a very judgmental and conservative husband. I've been conditioned to be very private, silent and meticulously careful, especially when Katie is home. I've never exactly been known for throwing caution to the wind. 

A few weeks ago, Katie was home for Easter and spring break, and since Alyssa's parents have both passed away, I invited her to stay the whole weekend. It would have been completely unacceptable to me to not invite her and have her spend the weekend alone in her cluttered apartment over such a pretty holiday, so I was happy when she accepted, feeling some admitted butterflies knowing we'd all be in close proximity for at least a long weekend. I'm not really a "public display of affection" kind of person, but Katie is 23 now, and Alyssa and I have been open about our relationship for more than a year. There's really nothing to "hide," and Alyssa is not really someone who would try to anyway. Of course I knew she'd be respectful of the situation, but I honestly didn't really know what to expect beyond that.

We all had dinner out on Saturday night since I didn't want a kitchen full of dishes on Easter morning. Me, Alyssa, Katie and her boyfriend Danny. If you are familiar with my experiences, you may recall that about two years ago I came home early from a night out to find--quite startlingly--Katie and Danny in our swimming pool engaged in a very erotic act--she was performing oral sex on him. I confess that the image of Danny, and his very impressive "equipment," flashed through my memories about ten thousand times during those two hours at dinner, and although I think I hid it pretty well, I was feeling very aroused. Alyssa has a divining rod for such things. She picked up on it, even if Katie and Danny didn't. I had made the mistake of telling Alyssa the swimming pool story a few months previous--sans the graphic details, of course--and I think it added to the electricity at the table. I was on edge, and very relieved to finally pay the check when it arrived at the table. Alyssa could feel the electricity, and she knew why.

Many hours later, I was snuggling in bed with Alyssa watching television, Katie safe and snug in her own room, when I felt Alyssa's body sliding along mine a bit more intimately.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"About what?" I played dumb.

Alyssa didn't offer an answer for a moment, and instead slipped her hand inside my panties.

"You're soaked."

I couldn't commit to any sort of admission, certainly not with Katie down the hall just a room away and very likely still awake, but I slid my hand on top of Alyssa's and began to grind to her touch. She was right. I was soaked. I felt pent up and needy. And Alyssa sensed it.

She cuddled up even closer to me, mouth against my ear, which always makes me shiver, and whispered, "tell me how big Danny is."

I didn't answer. I just moaned...loudly...and pressed Alyssa's fingers deeper inside me. I was fucking her fingers deeply and urgently.

"He's tall," Alyssa continued in a sexy purr. She was right. Danny is about 6'6" and quite athletic in build. "I'll bet he's huge--am I right, Kristi?"

She was driving me crazy. I still couldn't answer--it just felt so...dangerous and personal and intimate and wrong. But I didn't protest when she peeled my panties down my legs roughly and plunged three fingers back inside of me as my thighs opened like a butterfly's wings. I whimpered and panted. Alyssa knew exactly what she was doing. She always does.

"When I say the right number....stop me," she growled as her fingers plunged in and out, ever deeper and more intense. At first, I had no idea what she was talking about, my mind was so spinning out of control. But when she started counting, I knew.

"6?......7?"

Jesus Christ, were we really having this conversation with her fingers inside me, and with Katie in the next room? I started moaning louder, dangerously louder. Alyssa is an experienced woman--she knew damn well that Danny's erection was bigger than six inches. She was teasing me, and she was loving it.

"8?"

She paused for a moment, wondering if eight inches might have been the magic number. But only for a moment, obviously aroused herself when I didn't stop her count.

"9, Kristi?"

God, maybe? I am always terrible at estimating things, all I knew in the moment I was watching them was that Danny had the biggest cock I had ever seen in my life. It may have been nine inches, but it was probably bigger than that, and so I didn't stop Alyssa's counting even then. This spurred her on like a wildfire was engulfing the room. I knew she knew she was teasing me, but she was becoming overtaken by her own naughty little gambit--and I loved it. My god, I loved it. I allowed her to continue her count. Her sultry whisper became ragged with her own uneven breathing.

"Kristi...does Danny have a ten inch cock??"

I could feel my climax beginning to roll through my body, and I knew Alyssa knew I was close. All I could manage was, "please don't stop." And she didn't. I may not be known for throwing caution to the wind, but Alyssa doesn't suffer from the same.

"Have you ever sucked a cock that big, Kristi?"

I could feel the waves of my orgasm beginning to crest over me, and I panted, "nuh uh..."  I hadn't. I'm not sure many women, apart from Katie, have, to be honest. But I was so damn lost in the moment, I could feel my eyes rolling back in my head. Here, my gorgeous and sexy girlfriend was slamming practically her entire hand into my pussy over and over while the image of Danny's cock tortured me into a state of arousal I'm not sure I had ever felt. And then Alyssa decided to dump gasoline on the fire.

"You'd look sexy--sucking it," she panted.

Fuck.

"Kristi, do you want to suck Danny's 10-inch cock?"

Oh my god. Oh my god. I did, I do, I have thought about it countless times, but I couldn't bring myself to admitting it, even with Alyssa nearly fisting me with her tiny hand. I couldn't. I shook my head "no" even as I began to explode. Alyssa must have known I needed to take my foot off the gas of the fantasy, but what she said next caused me to almost black out.

"Kristi--what if I admitted I want to suck Danny's 10-inch cock?"

(I just had to take five minutes to make myself cum as I am sharing this with you).

I think she was serious. I still do. My mind blurred, and I screamed--something I had never done in that bedroom with my husband for fear of being heard--and felt myself release a long and powerful gushing orgasm all over Alyssa's hand and my bed. It felt like it would never end--I soaked the bed so badly we had to change the sheets afterwards. The thought of Alyssa sucking Danny sent me over the edge like nothing had ever before. The mental image lives in my mind, and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to make it go away, even if she was only half serious.

Having been to my home many times, Alyssa knows where the laundry and linens are, which was all the way on the opposite end of the house. She grinned, god she is so sexy. "I'll get sheets. You stay here," she whispered. I expected her to throw on the tee shirt she had shed during our playtime, but she didn't. And out she strolled...topless. H-cup breasts wagging heavily as she did, on her way to get clean sheets for the bed with Katie right there in her room, which she had to pass in the hallway twice. Thankfully, Katie never emerged from her room to see Alyssa or to ask any questions. But I can't tell you how sexy it is that I don't think it would have mattered the least bit to Alyssa if she did.