Diary of a Lesbian Love Slave Pt. 11

(Hi Readers! Sorry it's been so long between posts. Some Things Happened. But all is well and I should have plenty of time to write in the near future.)

1.

When I walked into the living room Ginny was curled up on the sofa and my Mistress was on the chair across from her. The lighting was dim and I could feel a charge in the air. Ginny was holding a brandy snifter with both hands, peering out over the rim with hooded eyes, like she was a little afraid of me.

No one said anything for a bit. Then my Mistress broke the silence. "The thing about Sam here is..." she said, talking slowly, choosing Her words carefully, "she's very caring. There's nothing she loves more in life than making people feel good. Isn't that right, Sam?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, posing with one hand on my hip, pushing my chest out.

"Ginny," continued my Mistress, "would you like Sam to make you feel good?"

I could see Ginny wrestling inwardly. It was all there in her eyes: She'd been repressing her true desires all her life, and now here she was being offered the services of -- if you'll excuse my saying so -- a beautiful young girl. Could she shed her inhibitions and let herself have this?

Finally she seemed to make up her mind. She took a sip from her glass and nodded. "Yes," she said quietly but firmly. "Yes, I would like that."

* * *

I took the glass from Ginny's hand and sat it down. Then I kissed her -- a full-on, A-plus kiss with lots of tongue. She moaned and I felt something shift inside her, like the cage that had been holding her true self in had been opened. She kissed me back forcefully, pulling me closer with one hand and returning my tongue action with interest.

When she let me go I smiled at her and bent forward to whisper in her ear. "Just relax," I said, then began to nibble on her earlobe as she leaned back against the couch. From there I made my way down her neck and across her shoulder to where her heaving bosom was straining against her dress.

At first glance I had found Ginny decidedly unsexy. But now that we were so close -- I could smell her, feel her trembling, her breath warm on my neck -- I realized that she was a sweet, sensuous, succulent female creature. I was no longer doing a good deed; I was doing what I wanted.

2.

I pulled the top of Ginny's dress down to reveal a bulky, unflattering bra that must have been 20 years old. As I reached around to unhook it I caught a strong waft of perfume mixed with sweat, making my nostrils flare. It took me a few seconds to get the bra off, and once I did I impulsively threw it into the fire. Ginny could do with a trip to Miranda's Garden, I thought.

Ginny's breasts were far from perfect -- a little saggy and slightly asymmetrical -- but they were beautiful nonetheless. I lavished them with care, licking all around before concentrating on the nipples, as Ginny moaned and whimpered softly.

When I moved down to kiss Ginny's navel she quivered delightfully. I looked over at my Mistress, whose eyes were shining in the darkness as she watched. She favored me with a wink as I returned my attention to the matter at hand.

Ginny was putty in my hands now. I stood her up and helped her out of her dress, leaving her just in off-white granny panties. As I began to pull them down I was hit with an overpowering wave of womanly musk. Ginny was very, very, very aroused.

I planted a kiss on Ginny's dark-brown bush and gently eased her back onto the couch. The panties followed her bra into the fire -- I enjoyed the way the flames flared as the fabric caught.

Gripping Ginny's knees, I slowly spread her legs. As I gazed at her glistening pink pussy I found myself thinking of that painting "The Origin of the World." Truly, every vagina is beautiful in its own way.

The look of anticipation on Ginny's face was priceless -- her lips were parted, her eyes wide, her expression almost frightened. I smiled at her as I took up a comfortable position between her legs.

I hate to blow my own horn, but I did some amazing work on Ginny that day. By the time I was done with her she'd come more and harder, I was sure, than she ever had before. For a minute she just lay there glassy-eyed as I flopped down on the couch next to her, looking over at my Mistress, who nodded approvingly.

But some switch inside Ginny had been flipped and suddenly she was on me, pulling off my top, sucking my tits as she finger-fucked me. Soon she was down between my legs, devouring me with all the passion of pent-up decades. I wrapped my legs around her head and rode her for all I was worth. She had no technique but plenty of feeling and I came on her face more than once before she came up for air.

3.

When Ginny finally left that night -- naked under her dress -- she was a changed person, I'm sure of it. I felt different too. After servicing my Mistress I fell asleep feeling a great sense of personal accomplishment, wondering what tomorrow might bring.