Succumbing to Menudia Ch. 04

"Aw, Angela! I guess I wanted to switch it up from the dress, and these were nice and casual and, you know..."

Angela reached around the back of Julie's tush and searched for the tag. At the same time, Julie began rubbing her right hand along the edge of Angela's skirt. By this point, they were standing centimeters from each other, a sense of unanticipated intimacy lingering in the air.

Menudia had wanted them to initiate Curt into the joys of erotic massage, but that was all she'd asked them to do, and now it was done. Anything else almost seemed like an ill-advised deviation from their task. On the other hand... maybe Menudia wouldn't have minded a little unplanned excursion?

Unsure if Julie was going to be into it or not, Angela placed her hand directly on Julie's denim crotch. However, when Julie responded by slowly sliding her jeans up and down against Angela's hand, Angela knew that her light brown-haired companion, so newly Menudian, was clearly into expanding her horizons a bit.

Julie had been all about feminism, right? Well what could be more empowering than a woman admiring another woman? As Angela gradually increased the pressure against Julie's jeans, she felt her formerly dogmatic classmate take longer and harder slides.

Julie shifted the fabric so that the seam of her jeans began pressing directly against her clit. Mmm, that was the spot.

All she could think about was how sensual and loving and warm Angela looked, and how those voluptuous breasts were practically spilling out of that crop top, and how beautiful it had been to watch her milk Curt's cock for God knows how long, and how nice it had been to help return the favor of Curt's earlier massage (ah yes, that had been one relaxing massage!), and how smokin' hot she felt in her jeans and button-up blouse, and she began to feel the sexiness build up all over.

Soon Julie was riding Angela's hand with complete abandonment, wiggling and squirming every way she knew how, her own hands gripping the massage table for support, her mouth wide open, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Angela could hardly believe it when she began to see the "glow" faintly forming behind her friend's chic spectacles, but she kept her hand precisely where it was.

After one last agonizingly slow slide, Julie clutched the table with all her might as her hideously vacant, creamy yellow eyes stared into Angela's stunningly blue eyes, her hips shivering inside her jeans.

"Succumb!..." The nefarious word dripped out of Angela's lips without thought. "Succumb!..."

Julie's slides instinctively grew shorter and quicker as she tried to milk her fully clothed cum for everything it was worth.

All the while, Curt remained soundly asleep on the massage table, blissfully unaware of the little scene unfolding directly in front of him.

Julie had finally learned the pleasure of a spontaneous orgasm that just kind of showed up out of nowhere. She happily came into Angela's hand for several minutes, unable to stop herself or attempt to do anything else. She felt a few faint spasms as her orgasm gradually seemed to wind down, but... fuck, man -- it felt so nice, Julie didn't see any point in moving on to something new.

The girl rode Angela's hand for at least a good hour or so, coming every few minutes, sometimes gripping the table, sometimes rubbing Angela's tits through her flimsy crop top, never even doing so much as unzipping the fly on her own jeans, which had grown noticeably soaked around the crotch area. She had no urgent deadlines, no pressing commitments, no reason to hurry. She was one pleased little Menudian.

Finally, Julie enjoyed one last mini-orgasm, stepped away from Angela's hand for the first time in a good long while, tousled her hair, and straightened up her shirt.

The liberated female could hardly suppress her sense of gratitude toward her blonde companion -- how she'd let her hump her hand like that, without moving or making a fuss or anything. As she gathered herself, it became clear to Julie that her companion was in need of a little stimulation in return. She'd never seen a girl looking so horny -- as if one slight touch in just the right spot would have done it for her.

What Angela obviously needed, in Julie's eyes, was a nice, good fucking.

She glanced down at Curt, lying on the table in blissful slumber. Nope, Curt wasn't going to be up to it. Besides, had they even taken his virginity yet? He'd sure given her one hell of a massage, though.

Julie looked around the room. Resting quietly, on a shelf in the corner, was a beige-colored dildo. Well, talk about convenient. She walked over and picked it up, pushed Angela back so that her rear was now resting against the table near Curt's feet, lifted up the bottom of her long floral print skirt, and began vigorously inserting it into her.

Angela rolled her head back, let out a full-throated gasp, and came practically within seconds -- just as Julie had figured she would. The comely blonde's juices flowed all over Julie's hands and filled the room with the odor of feminine sex.

This time Julie's lips did the devilish honors.

"Succumb!... Succumb!..."

After those first few minutes of hard thrusting, Julie adjusted her speed, allowing Angela to wind down and catch her breath a bit, and then, just as Angela appeared to be about done, Julie sped the ramming right back up again, gently stroked her friend's clit with her free hand, and pushed Angela over the top a second time.

Julie must have stimulated Angela with that dildo for at least as long as Angela had stimulated her through her jeans, never growing tired of it, while Angela was barely able to keep herself from groaning, shrieking, and falling onto the floor in a urine and female ejaculate-soaked mess.

Eventually, after one particularly gruesome climax, Julie yanked the dildo out of Angela's exhausted snatch and tossed it into the corner. The blonde wiped her forehead, straightened her white crop top, closed her skirt around her thighs, and acted as though nothing particularly interesting had happened.

Feeling highly satisfied, in their own distinctive ways, they gazed down at the still-resting Curt.

"Quite the nap, huh?" Julie observed.

"I guess our massage had really tired him out," Angela said.

But Julie wasn't so sure. Officially, their task had been completed hours ago, and Menudia had stressed that they needed to "go slowly" with him. Honestly, they probably should have just moved on.

But then she thought about how badly she'd wanted to show Angela all the massage techniques she'd learned after having observed her partner's masterly handjob. She thought about how much she'd enjoyed what Curt had done for her earlier, and how nice it had been to wake up, without warning, in a warm, candlelit room, to a sensual massage. She though about how sexy she'd felt having just rode Angela's hand through her jeans for an hour and then having fucked Angela with a dildo for another hour.

"One more quick massage for Curt."

Only too happy to oblige, Angela gently parted the white towel that had been covering Curt's now-soft genitals. Julie smothered her hands in oil, reached down, wrapped her fingers around the shaft, and began steadily stroking his still-virgin cock.

The sensation of Julie's hand on his sleeping penis did what Angela's whoops and hollers apparently could not, gradually and inevitably waking him. Within seconds, he grew to rock hard proportions, while Angela sauntered to the side of the table and began rubbing his belly, chest, and neck.

Julie had been eyeing that luscious schlong during the entirety of their earlier joint massage, and now she was thrilled to find herself at the controls of the joystick. She wasn't aiming for any sort of tantric, "build him up and build him down" bullshit like Angela had done. She wanted to make him squirt out his happy stuff as quickly as she could. The girls could hear him breathing through his nose, just as they'd taught him earlier.

When she noticed the milky yellow glare in his eyes grow more and more intense, Julie placed her free hand in front of his tip. This time his palms lay flat toward the ceiling, his back likewise. At the precise moment when Curt's cum began drenching Julie's palm, Angela bent down and gave him a tender, quiet kiss -- suitable accompaniment to the culmination of a skilled handjob -- all while rubbing his lower abdomen with her own soft palm.

This time the whispering came from Julie, along with, naturally, the audible hint of Menudia: "Succumb!... Succumb!..."

Julie had clearly gotten good at this, the student having learned from the master. Curt creamed and creamed and creamed himself senseless, unable to stop the little jets from being teased out by Julie, some of which had flown past her hand and onto his chest, the table, Angela's hands, and even the wall behind his head.

As he was quickly discovering, there was nothing like a nice, relaxing handjob to bring on some more much-needed shuteye. He soon fell back asleep, emptied and drowsy.

Julie and Angela methodically mopped up Curt's residue with a pair of clean white towels, then wiped their hands, before closing up the towel around his crotch again.

"He looks happy," Julie observed, giving his depleted organ two last quick pats through the towel for good measure.

They exited through the door on the left, their work fully accomplished.

*****

Snapping out of his slumber, Curt found himself resting in a plush pink armchair, once again dressed in his satin robe, which had completely dried out by now (through means outside his sphere of concern), in a room which he did not recognize. There was a door on his left and another on his right. Although he felt well-rested, he remained seated for some time.

The door on the right opened, and in walked a petite-chested girl wearing a pink t-shirt with a funky multi-colored design on the front, black high heels, and a pair of tight black leather pants. The t-shirt was a touch too small for her, allowing a hint of the girl's belly to peek through.

Whoever this was, the girl was hot.

Hold on a minute. She did seem vaguely familiar. He must have known her from... damn, the name would come to him. It took Curt several more seconds to even consider the possibility.

Karen?

But dear God. It was like a whole new Karen! A Karen he'd never expected to see. A Karen he could have seen himself... fantasizing about?

She'd always had roughly the sex appeal of a damp log, but now... sweet Jesus. Her dark brown hair fluttered over her shoulders in what could have only been described as a "perfectly coiffed" sloppiness, her hips swayed back and forth like they belonged to a naughty little leather bitch who always got her way.

He knew Menudia could change people, but this was something else. She was walking around in those leather pants like she couldn't wait for someone to come along and unzip them.

It wasn't just that she was hot; it was that she hadn't been hot, and now she'd become hot. There was something about the dorky girl discovering her inner sexpot. He'd always enjoyed Karen's company, and had been fond of her personal qualities, but now he was fond of her... in "other" ways? Like Mason earlier, Curt found himself unable to take his eyes off her, not merely because she looked stunning, but also because he was in disbelief at the thoroughness of her transformation.

If Karen noticed Curt's reaction, she gave no hint of it, sauntering right past the sitting blonde virgin and into the next room. As he stood up to follow her and passed through the doorway himself, he observed her make her way toward a brown leather armchair that was resting in the middle of the otherwise mostly empty space, and casually throw herself down into it.

Through what seemed like some type of uncanny telepathy, Curt suddenly understood exactly what kind of pleasure she was expecting to receive from him (and exactly the kind of pleasure he was now eager to give her). And, well, she would certainly deserve it.

As he placed a pillow near her feet, Karen didn't acknowledge him much. When he sat down between the legs of her leather trousers and spread them a little, she gave off an almost imperceptible smile, as if she were mildly pleased at the attention, but she said nothing.

Curt slowly loosened the top button of her shiny black pants, gradually unzipped the zipper, took a moment to admire her smartly-trimmed pubic hair (which had come a long way from its encounter with Ellis), and began orally stimulating her.

Karen ever-so-slowly tilted her head back against the chair, placed both of her hands on the opposing armrests, and let out a low purr, as if cunnilingus from hot boys like Curt were her birthright. While it was Curt's first delicious taste of pussy, it was certainly not Karen's first encounter with the male tongue. His pace was nice and slow. As far as she was concerned, he could stay there all day, or night, or... whatever the fuck it was.

But about five minutes in, she suddenly she felt a special tingle in her bottom, a tingle that suggested a certain female something on the way, and she wasn't sure if she wanted it to happen quite yet. All the while, Curt steadily licked and licked, like a loyal puppy, eventually moving his hands up to her leather-encased thighs and rubbing them tenderly.

The tingle grew more difficult to ignore. Honestly, Karen kind of just wanted to sit there with Curt's face buried in her pants till the cows came home, but she knew that if he kept this up, she was eventually going to lose it.

Her eyes closed, her lips open by the slightest crack, she almost felt as if she'd stepped out of her own being, watching the pleasure build in her mind, like she was slowly climbing a ladder one rung at a time, approaching the top with curious anticipation.

She started dragging her hands over her breasts through her pink t-shirt, savoring the constant, relentless speed of Curt's tongue. Really, she wasn't all that eager to get to the top; simply climbing the ladder was pleasurable enough.

Karen's body clearly had other ideas, however. For a couple of tension-filled minutes, she felt the energy hovering there, accruing behind an internal wall, unhurried, waiting. It was like the "old" Karen was still attempting to fight the pleasure, halt it, resist it. Finally, she knew that she was there, and she just hadn't felt it crest yet. Maybe three more seconds? All the while, Curt lapped and lapped.

Then BOOM, she thrashed and panted like a deranged fiend, her head rolling against the armchair in convulsive abandon.

"Smmcmmb!... Smmcmmb!..."

The word didn't sound too clear coming out of Curt's mouth for some reason, but Menudia's contribution, broadcasting directly into her brain, came through in stereo hi-fidelity. Despite the challenge of now having a moving target to stimulate, Curt doggedly maintained the same delirious pace.

Her hands fell to her sides, sliding along the black leather fabric that had so excited the cute boy at her kicking feet and had helped free her from her previously sexless, pleasureless existence. The glow that formed in her eyes could have practically burned a hole through the wall. Karen came for almost five minutes, her body gradually returning to a more composed state.

Curt, however, had hardly even budged, and continued his lubrication of her sensitive bud. Perhaps the good times were just beginning? Karen wasn't really sure what the end goal was, but she figured she might as well go with it, wiping the perspiration off her forehead and rubbing it into her already sweaty t-shirt.

If Curt kept this up, she would surely have another orgasm at some point. Or not. There was no rush either way, as the post-orgasmic oral stimulation was just fine with her.

Funny how Karen was about as talkative as she'd always been -- in other words, not very. Apparently, this was one pre-Menudian trait that seemed to have returned. Well, perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that the Menudian Karen was letting her body do the talking.

Then she felt it again: another tingle. This one was quite something. She envisioned herself traveling up that tantalizing ladder for another trip to the top -- an even faster trip this time. There was no delaying it. This one was going to be a quickie.

Before she could truly prepare herself, Karen came again, firmly wrapping her thighs around Curt's ears and rubbing his beautiful blonde locks with her right palm. Mmmm. This one was like a nice, sudden surprise.

She threw her arms up over her messy brown hair in delight, letting the bottom of her t-shirt slide up against her midriff and the lower portion of her breasts. To think, all those years, she'd never known that being eaten out by a hungry tongue like Curt's while dressed in tight leather pants and a cozy pink t-shirt could be so much fun!

After that sweetly abrupt additional cum, Karen drifted off into a contented sleep.

Curt licked his unconscious target for a few more minutes, before crawling over toward a pair of pillows on the floor and promptly taking a pleasant nap of his own.

*****

A slinky, flirtatious hand rubbed Curt's back, rousing him from his rest on what was perhaps Menudia's most comfortable mattress, his body having somehow traveled during sleep back into the room he'd initially found himself in immediately after he'd first rotated in front of her throne.

"Come dance with me again..."

He rolled onto his side and saw Vanessa, who had once again removed her tight dark green sweater in order to prance around in her white crop top with the little red heart graphic on the front. But now there was one extra addition: she had swapped her short black cotton skirt for a similarly-sized short brown leather skirt, which went well with the brown leather boots she'd already worn to the picnic.

He was certainly willing to dance with her again, and then some.

"Bailar conmigo otra vez..."

She tugged on his hand and pulled him back into the room they'd danced in earlier. Like before, soft music proceeded to play, almost on cue, and Vanessa spun Curt around gracefully, deliberately sliding her cute Mexican-American frame against his arousal, which was protruding prominently through his robe, just as it had done before. But Curt knew Vanessa was up for a hell of a lot more than just a little tango for two.

The girl spent at least six or seven minutes giving Curt her patented quasi-lap dance, dragging her hands up and down the front of his garment, enjoying the little "bounce" his erect package would make every time her palms would pass over it. Although she had unquestionably cherished wiggling her hips against him and making him stain his robe the first time around, she was glad to see that his tolerance for stimulation had grown substantially since then.

Something about the attitude she conveyed while striking little poses with her arms and fingers -- one hand down toward her hips with the other reaching toward the ceiling, then a quick, flawlessly symmetrical switch of the hands -- reminded him of some tarty dance-pop superstar, showing off her choreography skills in the middle of a concert for all the drooling dads to see.

At one point, Vanessa turned her back toward Curt, placed her hands on the room's burnished wood walls, and let her leather-encased buttocks playfully grind against his own satin-covered wood. Right about then, almost out of nowhere, Curt sensed an unfamiliar urge brewing. He heard Menudia's voice in his head:

"You're ready, Curt... surprise her... I think you're ready..."

After undoing the sash on his robe, he impulsively spun Vanessa around, slammed her body against the wall, lifted up her short leather skirt and, before she could even figure out what was happening, proceeded to slide his thick Scandinavian cock into her warm Latin snatch.