The Anniversary

And then she dropped to her knees in front of Nicole to measure her waist and her hips. Tara's face was level with her crotch and her nostrils dilated at the heady scent of my baby's arousal. When she was done, she trailed her fingers softly... Was it an accident? Was it deliberate? Did it become altogether too difficult for her to resist? ... over the slick skin of Nicole's thigh. When she got to her feet, she was again the soul of professionalism.

"I've her size. Make your choice, ma'am and I'll ring it up for you."

We picked the set of red lace and a set of virginal white – bra and crotchless panties, garter belt and stockings, all in shimmering silk. I could imagine the silk of the panties framing Nicole's plump pussy lips, the raw wet pink of her cunt a delicious contrast to the white of the fabric. I couldn't wait to violate her sopping hole while she still wore them. She would get the silk so drenched that I would eventually have to peel it off like sodden tissue paper.

Tara rang in the purchases with quiet efficiency, her movements sure and economical. When we were turning to go, she stopped me with a hand on my arm. She hesitated for a moment and then fished out a card with her name and number on it.

"In case you have any problem with your purchases, feel free to call me. I would love to help in any way I can."

I held her gaze for a moment and then bent over to brush my lips lightly over the back of her hand as I slid her card into my palm. The scent that rose off Tara's fingertips was unmistakable ... the rich spicy scent of Nicole's juices. When she saw my smile, she blushed. She knew that I knew. I knew that she knew that I knew. I was almost tempted to invite her home and serve her up as a dish that night for Nicole to savor. I had no doubt that she would be happy to come. I dismissed the idea, not without a pang of regret. I had already made plans for the night.

As I walked out arm in arm with Nicole, I couldn't resist telling her what I thought of our little fashion assistant.

"She could be yours if you want her, you know," I teased her, "She's even more of a fluff than you're. She would spread for you. You can borrow my strap on and drive it so hard and so deep into her soft little pussy that she'll choke on it in her throat."

"Oh God ... Justine ... stop it. You're driving me crazy. Take me home," she pleaded.

"Do we have to?" I said, sounding petulant, "Its still very early."

She was almost frantic now, her breath coming in gasps. She was almost doubled over, one delicate hand wrapped softly around her own throat. I gently supported her with an arm around her shoulders. An elderly couple, who were passing by, stopped to enquire after her, concern writ large on their faces.

"Thank you for stopping, but she's really quite alright," I reassured them, "Just a little dizzy, I think. I'm sure it'll pass."

She pulled herself erect with an effort, handed me the bags in her hand and gasped, "I need to use the restroom."

She looked around, confused, like a hunted animal until I pointed her in the right direction. She scurried off, with me following more leisurely in her wake.

She started when I stepped into the cubicle after her.

"What're you doing?" she hissed under her breath.

"Just making sure that you don't fall prey to temptation," I said briskly.

She groaned like she was dying. I stood in front of her as she sat down and I drew her face, now slick with sweat, against my body. She was trembling. I held her until I heard the flush and the sound of ripping tissue paper. She leaned back and spread her thighs wide apart delicately dabbing at her wet pussy with the tissue paper. The barest touch and it was sodden. I leaned down to plant a long, lingering kiss on the open wetness of her cunt and whispered, "Soon, baby, very soon."

She was restless during the drive home, squirming and shifting in the seat beside me. I drove carefully, sparing her any bumps and swerves that would tip her over the edge. We had barely stepped through the door before she was all over me, her arms around my neck, her lips drinking from mine. I tore myself free, cradled her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. Thank God she's light, I thought.

Almost before she landed, she was ripping her clothes off, wanting to be naked. She waited impatiently while I removed mine at a more dignified pace, folding each piece carefully and putting it aside. Her legs were wide open, her cunt leaking like a broken faucet, the soft mounds of her breasts heaving. She made a pretty picture – one that was making my pussy ripe and wet.

I had placed a single long stemmed rose in the narrow crystal vase by our bedside in the morning and suddenly I was drawn by the gaudy blood red perfection of it. I eased it carefully out of the vase. Tiny droplets of water clung to its surface, shining like stars. I gripped the long stem an inch from its sharply sliced end and trailed the luscious petals softly over the wet flesh of her cunt. She whimpered and her tight little bottom rose off the sheets, craving more of that contact, however fleeting.

As she hung suspended in the air, I flicked my wrist and smashed the rose wetly into the soft pulp of her cunt. She gasped as her body jerked under that gentle assault. So, I did it again ... and again, reveling in the soft thump of the flower against her sensitive flesh until finally, a solitary petal tore off from the impact and hung plastered on her flesh. She looked glorious, her engorged lips split open by that petal, deep red where it clung against her clit and then lightening into a pale pink and then an almost white where its narrow tip dipped into the leaking hole of her sex.

I reached forward and peeled the petal off her slit. It was wet where it had stuck to her flesh and a drop of her juice, thick and viscous, slid slowly down its surface. I licked her wetness off the dark red skin of the petal and then let it flutter to the ground, forlorn, forsaken. Its hour in the sun was over.

She moaned as I flattened her thighs onto the sheet opening her up fully. Her muscles, stretched taut, were quivering under my palm. I savored that delicious trembling before I dipped my head to run my tongue in a long lazy lick along the length of her cunt. She whimpered at that liquid contact, desperate now for the mercy of release. I had to be careful not to overstimulate her. She was close ... so close. I dipped my tongue into the weeping entrance of her sex and thrust forward burying my flesh in hers until the tip of my tongue bumped up against the metal of the sphere nestling inside her. I ran my tongue along the surface, its metallic tang softened by the sweetness of her juices.

When I withdrew my tongue from her cunt, she mewled like a kitten when a bowl of cream is swiped from under its wet nose. I sat up on my knees. I could almost feel the heat of her feverish eyes as they licked my skin, my face, the softness of my breasts, the brown stiffness of my nipples. I reached behind my neck and unclasped the string of pearls that clutched my throat. The pearls were lustrous, their creamy skin shimmering in the light.

I placed the string carefully along the length of her slit, bisecting it. One delicate length of chain lay along the soft swell of her mound and the other disappeared into the crease of her bottom. Between them, the pearls lay, soft and creamy. I admired for a long moment the sight of her cunt split open by the undulating outline of that necklace. And then, I gripped each silver clasp between a thumb and forefinger and began to pull, smoothly, evenly, to and fro ... to and fro ...

She went insane, at the soft insidious friction of the pearls sliding over her flesh. Her voice was trapped in her throat and she was thrashing about, her hips swiveling up and down and from side to side. Through it all, I calmly kept that soft shimmering arc of pearls flowing. I watched as each creamy sphere disappeared into the wet groove of her cunt and then emerged, slick with her juices. When each smooth little planet was dripping with her juices, I gently lifted her hips and slid a pillow underneath. The crinkled hole of her anus was now clearly visible, winking sweetly.

I gently massaged the liquid leaking from her cunt into the rim of her asshole, into the folds and crevices that surrounded its core of darkness. As the first pearl slid into her, she gasped and her eyes widened with surprise. As the others followed, remorselessly, inevitably into her tight passage, she trembled uncontrollably, her fingers scrabbling helplessly on the sheets, her eyes full of a mute entreaty. When I was done, she looked deliciously obscene, an inch of chain and the silver clasp dangling from her tiny puckered hole.

For a long moment, I stayed on my knees, just drinking in the vision of this body that I was about to ravish. And then my face dived into the junction of her thighs, my lips closing over the swollen nub of her clit. As her clit drowned in the wet heat of my mouth, she came apart at the seams. As her body began to thrash in release, I delicately gripped the metal clasp and pulled. When the first pearl stretched open her spasming hole and popped out of her flesh, she screamed. By the time I was done and the string of pearls ... now so innocent ... lay next to her on the sheets damp with her juices, her throat was raw and she was sobbing from a pleasure so intense that her body had been unable to contain it.

When her body finally stopped jerking and the platinum spheres that had tormented her all day slipped out of her cunt with a soft plop, I shifted upwards to lie down next to her. Her eyes were vacant and soft little noises were bubbling from her lips. She was oblivious to the world around her, her mind still reeling from the waves of pleasure that had just torn through her body. I knew it would be sometime before she recovered, before she was my Nicole again. I wrapped one arm around her shoulder to gently gather her into my warmth. I swept her hair, now slick with sweat, back from her forehead and whispered softly in her ear.

"Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart."

As I cradled her in my arms, I desperately hoped that there would be many more of those.

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... fantasy