Friday Afternoon Club

I'm a student at DU. I'm gonna be a 6-year grad, because of the teaching certificate, and I changed my major in my junior year. Since my sophomore year, I've worked in an office on campus (won't say where so as not to embarrass Karen too much). For the past two years, I've worked during the summer, too, to save up for the big post-graduation move.

I've gotten to know Karen pretty well, she's the only one who has been in this office as long as I have. We're fairly close. We started hanging out together at a few after-parties, like after gallery openings or poetry readings. Then, we took a water aerobics class together, and we work out together in the campus gym once or twice a week. She's my height, about 5'4", but instead of my stringy brown hair, her hair is really curly sandy-blond.

Karen is 38, more than ten years older than me, divorced, and has two kids: a boy and a girl. Her kids spend the summers with their father in San Diego. During the summer, it's her and me, alone in the office, shuffling papers. We had been working alone for over two weeks, just her and me, and it afforded us the opportunity to talk about everything, I mean everything.

It was barely into June, but it was already roasting in the office. We usually took lunch at noon, but being Friday, she said we should just take the afternoon off. We locked up the office, went to the cafeteria, had the salad bar, then went for a light workout. Being summer, hardly anyone else was there, and we did a lower body treadmill/stair master workout; just enough to get really sweaty.

I commented that my apartment complex has a pool, and asked if she wanted to come over, but she scoffed and said that she had a pool in her back yard. My eyebrows shot up.

"Can I come?" I asked, hopefully. "I'll run home and get my suit."

"Um, yeah, that's a good idea. I'll tell you what, while you're doing that, I'll stop and get margarita mix and meet you there."

She gave me the address and we went our separate ways. Half an hour later, I was pulling up to her house. I have a new bug convertible, so the wind had dried my workout-wet hair by the time I pulled up her drive.

I was astonished at her house. It was three stories, and as I later learned, sixteen rooms, if you include the basement. Hell, it was practically a mansion. She got the place in the divorce, and he responded by buying a bigger house in San Diego, trying to one-up her in the divorce.

She opened the door before I could ring, and greeted me with a frozen strawberry margarita in hand. I was wearing my bikini, a huge t-shirt over that, and my beach terry-cloth robe over that. She was also in a t-shirt, and apparently, nothing else. We sat in her kitchen for a few minutes and downed out first round of margaritas. I said that we should get to the pool. As she re-filled the glasses, she explained:

"Look, Tina, I've got to tell you. I've lived in this house for fifteen years. I have an 8 foot privacy fence all around the back yard. What I'm trying to say is that I haven't owned a swimming suit for years. I swim nude. I hope it doesn't bother you. You're free to join me, but I only swim naked."

"Great," I said, surprised, but kind of pleased that I wouldn't have to worry about tan lines.

She grabbed the rest of the pitcher, I grabbed the towels from the table, and followed her out the back door. There was, indeed, an 8 ft. wooden fence around the yard, covered by shrubs and vines. It sort of looked like a miniature version of medieval French or Italian gardens.

She wasn't kidding. As soon as we hit the back yard, her t-shirt came off and I was following this tight little butt out to the pool. Her legs and ass were so tight from the stair master that I couldn't help but stare, all the way till she reached the edge and dove in.

I took my robe and shirt off, throwing them across a lounge chair, then untied my bikini, feeling suddenly self-conscious at having clothes on. I dove in after her, and swam after her across the pool. We used the diving board and went round in circles, diving and climbing out, like we were kids.

The only thing was, I wasn't used to being naked for this long (when I wasn't sleeping), and I certainly wasn't used to walking around naked with someone else. I couldn't help but take a few healthy looks, and I notices her taking a few looks at me, too. You just can't help but look at someone who's naked, right?

After awhile, we stopped diving and just floated around the pool. She has these floating armchairs, and we sat around, half-submerged, finishing the pitcher of margaritas. We were lounging back, eyes closed, talking about all sorts of things.

We started talking about what celebrity we'd sleep with, then I asked her who in the office she's sleep with. She didn't answer at first.

"I, uh, I'd have to think about that," she said. "Actually, I did have sex in the office, once, but with my ex, while we were still together. We did it over lunch, right there in that big, leather chair." I asked for details.

"Well, he came to get me for lunch, but I said that I was too busy. He said that I deserved at least a little break, so he crawled under my desk, lifted my skirt, slid down my panties, and went down on me right there. I came wile a wildcat. Then he just stood up, kissed me and left. He was great about that. That's what I miss most about him: he loved to eat pussy, and he would do it all the time."

I opened one eye and saw her drawing little circles around her nipples with her fingertips. I picked up my margarita and started rubbing the cold glass against my own nipples. I waited to see if she was going to say any more.

"I have a confession," I said, finally. "I had sex in that chair, too."

"You're kidding!" she perked up. "Tell me."

"Well, it wasn't exactly, um, I mean, I was alone."

"You masturbated in my chair?"

"Yeah, just once, though. Ok, twice. I was watching the office over lunch and looked up a few choice sites on the Internet, and, just like you said, up came the skirt, down came the panties..."

"Don't you just love skirts?"

"They are God's gift to sex, I'll say that."

She took a long look at me, and her gaze dropped to my neck and shoulders, finally lingering on my breasts. I took a breath, trying not to look like I was showing them off.

"We should get out of the sun for awhile before we burn. Come on inside, I have something to show you."

We made for the towels, and wrapped them around our waists. Now topless, I thought we looked like Polynesian natives, you know, in their grass skirts.

She took me to the basement where she had a wooden sauna. It was two tiers, and big enough for five or six people comfortably. She turned on the controls and put me inside, telling me to put water on the rocks and she would be back in a minute. She came back with two bottles of cold water and a joint.

"I hope you don't mind," she said apologizing for the joint.

"I don't mind at all. I don't smoke very often, but I don't turn it down, either."

We got high, the temperature rose, and the sweat started pouring. I told her that I couldn't believe she had a sauna in her house. She explained that her ex was a surgeon and used his money to do serious home upgrades. Then, she started telling me about their sex life, how they rarely had actual intercourse, usually just oral sex, or masturbating for each other.

By this time, the joint was down to just a roach, so she pitched it onto the rocks and watched it burn. By this time, she was leaning with her back to the far wall, right leg dangling off of the top bench. I mirrored her actions and leaned against the opposite wall. Our towels had fallen, no longer covering us at all. She picked up her water bottle, took a drink, then poured some on her chest, and her nipples responded immediately. I followed suit, mirroring her actions.

"Did you really masturbate in my chair?" She asked.

"Yes, I did."

"Tell me about it," she said, and began stroking her nipples.

I told her, in dirty detail, how I had taken off my panties, rubbed my clit in tiny circles, while my left hand began tugging on my lips, then put two, and even three fingers inside, finger-fucking myself while my clit exploded.

By this time, she was seriously pulling and tweaking her nipples. I had gone that far, so I continued to follow her lead, and was squeezing my breasts, and pinching my own nipples. I was getting very turned on watching her.

"Have you ever let someone watch you masturbate?" she asked.

"No. It's just never come up," I said. "But I can't really say I have a problem with it." I added, trying to sound encouraging.

"Have you ever watched someone else masturbate?" she asked.

"Once, in a movie, but I've never had the chance in real life. But the idea turns me on."

She smiled and opened her legs wider. So I did, too. My right leg was touching her left as we stretched out on the bench, and her leg, moist with sweat, began caressing mine.

She grabbed her left breast with both hands, and pulled it up to her mouth, licking and sucking her nipple. Still mirroring her, I did the same with my right breast, using my teeth, lightly biting my nipple.

I felt my pussy lips tingle like they do when I get turned on and I could feel them swelling.

Her hand slipped down lower, and so did mine. We spread our legs wider, reaching down, opening ourselves, staring into each other's pussy. For the next several minutes, I don't know for sure how long, I stared at this beautiful, sexy woman with such a cut, muscular frame. I watched her pleasing herself, as my own hand flew in ever tighter circles over my own clit.

My eyes covered her glistening body, four fingers flat against her pussy, rubbing, pressing, like she was trying to mash it flat, watching her watch me, the look of ecstacy on her face, left hand leaping back and forth between her tits, squeezing them, tweaking her nipples, leg muscles tensing, toes pointing. Then, I just stopped, lost in her rapture as her stomach muscles began spasming in uncontrollable orgasmic bliss.

She slowed to a stop herself, catching her breath, then opened her eyes and stared into mine with a wry smile on her face. I was suddenly terribly self-conscious, with one hand squeezing my tit, the other with the middle two fingers buried inside me, pressed hard against the tiny washboard of my G-spot.

She let out a low growl and sprang at me, startling me. Pulling my fingers out of my pussy, she replaced them with her own, then dove onto my clit, sucking it deep into her mouth, slapping the tip of it with her tongue, back and forth so fast I thought that her tongue had batteries.

My right hand was now free, so there I was, a boob in each hand, pinching my nipples, my feet planted flat against the bench, my ass raised up, mashing my pelvic bone against her nose. She grabbed my ass with her free hand, to keep connected, to keep me from bucking her off. I came in waves. It was like having multiple orgasms, only one right on top of the other. I had never cum that hard or for that long ever in my life, and she stayed on, sucking my clit, letting me ride her face, staying with me through it all, till my own orgasmic muscle spasms subsided.

She slowed, and finally let me catch my breath. I became aware of an echo, and realized that it was my own whimpers and moans that had been going on for I don't know how long.

She slid her fingers out and licked them, looking at me with a devilish grin. She took my hand and led me out of the sauna, where the summer heat was suddenly very cold.

We went upstairs and showered together, which was really cool because it had four spigots, two on each opposing wall, one high, one low. We washed each other slowly, and very thoroughly, kissing and giggling like new lovers do.

Then she took me to bed where she taught me something I never expected: the absolute most and deepest orgasms I ever had in my life happened like this: we kissed, I mean those deep, passionate kisses, where you moan into each other, and made out like teenagers; tongues, ears, necks, nipples and rubbing.

Sometimes we would use fingers, but mostly just GRINDING on each other, thighs covered in each others wetness. I even felt her cum, I mean actually squirt on my thigh. I had heard of women that can do that, but I never expected to actually feel it.

I tell you, girls, there has never been a more erotic, lustful, sensual, hedonistic, and completely sexually satisfying time, before or since, than kissing that woman, grinding my pussy down on her, feeling her lips open over my thigh, riding my leg like a horse. I can cum just thinking about it, (and had to masturbate three times while writing this).

It was hours later when we finally stopped. Actually, I don't remember stopping, we just woke up about 10 o'clock, drenched in sweat. That's what I remember most about that day: grinding and sweat, kissing and sweat, licking and nibbling and the sweat, hair matted into hundreds of tiny, heavy whips.

We took another shower, went swimming in the dark, then went to bed again. We were a lot softer that time around, as we had pretty much ground ourselves sore.

That was how we spent most of the summer, and this summer, too. We still work together, and workout together, but don't have sex during the school year when her kids are at home. Spring semester is here though, and summer's only four-and-a-half months away...

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That's it, girls. Thanks for the response from my previous story, and thanks for the pics.