Namaste Yoga Pt. 08

Her mind raced, the memory of Willow and Sharon on the beach. But that was just teenage fooling around. And it felt so good. Now, faced with the reality of having sex with another woman, her heart pounded in her ears.

"It's not just what you're going to do to me, or how I'm going to toy with you. It's how you're going to ask me to do those things, and beg me to do those things. Right? Because that's what you crave, don't you Emmy?" Her finger lightly tapped at Emmy's entrance. "Like, you really want my finger inside you, right? But I won't do it until you ask me, Emmy."

For her own part, Charlie was so turned on, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this way. With every breath she smelled Emmy's arousal and it was like an aphrodisiac. She wanted nothing more than to stop the car, slip her head between Emmy's legs and just breathe in.

"Ohhhhh, fuckkkkk," Emmy moaned at Charlie's words and her probing.

"Yes...Probably." She tapped again, a little lower, her fingertip making a squelching sound against Emmy's soaked lips.

Emmy slouched a little lower, spreading her legs as wide as she could to push her cunt against Charlie's fingers. "Please," she whispered. "Yes. Please. Fuck me. Shove your fingers in me. Make me cum for you." She pushed her labia open as Yogi Jacob had instructed her, with each push, liquid spilling onto Charlie's seat. "OhgodOhgodOhgod!" Charlie's slipped first one and then a second finger into her, pushing as far as she could, given the awkward position of her arm.

"I've never had a toy before, Emmy. Do you want to be my toy?"

Emmy was lost in a haze: her brain fuzzed from the drinks, her body on fire from three days of orgasms. She nodded, panting. "Yesssss. Yessss...Please. Fuck. Pleasepleaseplease." And then she went over the top, the energy pulsing in waves into her core, up her spine to blossom like a firework in her brain. She could feel the liquid flooding out of her onto Charlie's hand and she laughed, the tension melting from the heat.

"Mmmmm," Charlie mewled, switching her fingers from one set of Emmy's lips to the other. "I only hope you can make me cum like that."

Emmy sucked her juices from Charlie's fingers tasting herself for the second time in one night. Her aroma brought her back to the first time, when one of the frat boys had slipped his dick into her and pulled out, teasing her with it near her face until she begged him to let her suck him. He humiliated her, taunting her, calling her his little cocksucker until he pulled out again, spraying his cum all over her face. Since then she couldn't smell herself without a tinge of disgust at what he'd done, what he'd made her do, what she begged him to do.

"What are you thinking?" Charlie broke into her thoughts. "What do you think being my toy will involve?"

Emmy's thoughts focused on what Charlie would expect. Naked. Of course. She shivered, realizing she would be stripped naked at Charlie's place without a car. Vulnerable and at Charlie's mercy.

"What? Tell me." Charlie pulled her fingers out and focused on driving.

Emmy felt her heart beating like a boxer's glove against the inside of her chest. "Fuccckkk, Charlie." She whispered feeling her juices wetting her skirt. She shifted from the cooling wet spot on the seat.

"What? What does 'being my toy' mean to you?" She smiled at her; like a predator, her eyes glazed with possibilities.

"Ohhhh, fucccck, Charlie. You're...I'm...shit...you'll make me undress. You'll have me naked...you'll make me...fuckkk, noooo."

"Make you...what? C'mon, let it go, Emmy. You need this. You want this. You can't cum without it. You're going to beg me to make you do...what?" Charlie was so wet at the thought of what Emmy was going to do, she imagined she could cum just driving. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her clit pulsing inside its hood.

"I'll...you'll make me...fuck...you'll make me kneel down...in front of your open legs...and...and..." she inhaled deeply, smelling both of them, counting to eight before letting it out slowly. "You'll have me eating your...pussy, Charlie. I'll be licking between your lips, sucking on your clit, tasting your juices, swallowing your cum." She breathed heavily again, feeling another gush of liquid oozing from her.

"Mmmm, that sounds so hot, Emmy. You're going to ask me...no beg me...to let you eat me out, go down on me. What else, Emmy? What else is your dirty mind imagining a toy would be forced to do?"

Emmy flashed on being shaved, on having Charlie shave her. She didn't know where that came from, but she knew it was going to happen. She was going to beg her to make it happened. She moaned and confessed her fantasy.

"Hmmm," Charlie mused. "Beg me to shave you. It will take more than begging to have me do that. We'll have to see what else you're imagining..."

Emmy's mind had gone into overdrive, the alcohol loosening her libido and her inhibitions. She couldn't stand her skirt against her skin, wet and cold. She pulled it down and the seat was even colder. Folding the fabric so that a dry section was against her ass, she positioned it under her.

"Nice," Charlie looked at Emmy's triangle. "Seems a shame to shave that. But we'll see. Still, it looks to me like you're overdressed."

Emmy looked outside at the traffic. It was dusk and the street lights lit the interior every three seconds. She knew she would be doing it and protesting was just stupid. Stupid! The ache in her groin expanded up into her belly.

"Nope. Unh unh." Charlie wagged a finger as Emmy started unbuttoning her blouse. "You know the rules."

Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Her aching clit lit up, sending bolts of arousal up her spine. She squeezed her legs together and saw Charlie look at her, smiling.

"You really are hot and bothered by this, aren't you. Damn, I like what I'm smelling. Do you do that for all the girls?"

Emmy felt her eyes moisten at the situation: she needed this so badly, she couldn't stand what she let herself get into. She spread her legs, feeling her labia unsticking, in her mind's eye her inner lips opening and leaking. "I need...fuckfuckfuck...to be...naked, Charlie. Completely stripped, completely exposed. Please let me take off my top and my bra. Let me be your naked sex toy...fuckkkkk, pleeasssse." She whispered the last, turning to plead with her face and eyes.

"Okay," Charlie agreed quietly, so aroused herself she had trouble concentrating on the road. "But you'll not wear a stitch of clothing for the rest of the time you're with me."

Emmy's anxiety and arousal built on each other, her mind flooding with image after image of what Charlie would expect of her. What does being her toy mean? She saw herself kneeling, hands behind her back, her mouth pressed against Charlie's open vagina. She shivered, feeling herself ooze onto her dress. Undoing the rest of her clothes she quickly lifted them off, exposing herself to anybody in a passing car. Throwing her blouse and bra on the floor, she crossed her arms across her breasts, then uncrossed them, slipping her hands under her thighs. She closed her eyes and practiced her breathing, feeling her heart pounding. FUCKKKK!

It seemed like hours, or moments, later when Charlie slowed the car and pulled into a driveway. The sky had darkened and a few street lights were still popping on. Emmy looked through the window at a line of townhouses, some dark, some lit from within. Charlie pushed a button and her garage door opened, the bright light washing over her and forcing her to squint. She looked away, through the side windows, to see if anyone was watching, and then they were in the garage, Charlie turning off the engine. She pushed the button again and the door closed behind them.

The full impact of what was about to happen to her felt like a punch to the stomach. She moaned and closed her eyes, frozen in place.

"Mmmmm," Charlie purred, appreciatively. "You smell sooooo good."

Emmy felt her fingers trail across her shoulders, goosebumps rising on her arms, her nipples stiffening. Still foggy from the alcohol she was lost in her arousal. "Please," she whispered, eyes closed, "please feel my nipples. They're so fucking...hard." She knew her face was reddening from her humiliation, but it felt so good to just let go, to give into her need. The scene from Sunday past, with Greg, rushed into her head: She had found another person who could give her what she needed. Yet another anxiety melted away, one she hadn't even been conscious of. She didn't need Greg! She felt the tension in her neck begin to release.

Charlie's fingers drifted across her shoulder and down, lightly dancing along the top of her breast, her nails just touching Emmy's stiffened nipple.

Emmy inhaled, giving into whatever the evening had in store for her.

"In-fucking-credible," Charlie whispered, pinching her nails into Emmy's nipple until the young woman cried out.

"Let's go." Charlie opened her door and left the car. "You can leave your clothes in there. You won't be needing them."

Emmy shook her head and followed her into the house, noting how neat and clean the garage and back hall were.

"You want a night-cap?" Charlie had set her purse down on the kitchen peninsula, and flipped on lights in the living room.

Emmy didn't respond, taking stock of how much she had drunk already. Charlie had already moved to a cabinet and removed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Too late. Anyway, given what you're about to do, I think a little more social lubrication will be required. Although when it comes to lubrication in general, you seem to have enough already."

Emmy just stood in the kitchen, naked. She shivered, not because of the temperature, but because she couldn't stop the stream of images flashing in front of her: spread eagled, sucking at Charlie's quim, Charlie's fingers in all of her entrances. She tried to distract herself, looking around, only to catch her naked reflection in the dark kitchen window. Looking down, she saw she still had on her stockings and shoes and she giggled.