Very Casual Fridays

Amy's eyes were open now, and they locked onto Julia's mouth and the cock that that slid between her lips.

"Take him deeper, Julia," she urged, as her hands spread themselves over Julia's quivering breasts. "Feel his whole cock inside your throat."

Instantly, Julia could feel Michael straining to plant himself deeper inside her. She felt her teeth pressed against his pubic bone, felt her nose buried in his flesh, and still the two of them strove as one to lodge his cock deeper in her throat. She pulled him out of her, almost savagely, and gulped down air before greedily forcing herself over him again. A second time she ripped him from the comfort of her mouth, and again she took his whole length and more, running her tongue under his balls. Again and again she brought him out, only to sink him so deep inside her a moment later, until she felt his testes contract, saw his whole body clench, and he flooded her throat with with his thick, funky essence.

Amy pried herself from the couch, now, and pulled herself to her knees. There was a crazed desperation in her eyes as she sought to suck and lick Michael's testicles even as his cock remained buried in Julia's throat. She grabbed him by the hips and began rocking him back and forth, the friction and the excitement ensuring he remained rock hard while she made him fuck Julia's face. And with that gentle rocking came the prize she had hoped for - his precious cum, oozing out the corner of Julia's mouth. Amy lapped it up, sucked it into her mouth with such exuberance that Michael quickened his rhythm out of excitement. Now Amy grasped Julia's head, one hand wrapped in her hair and the other around her throat, holding her steady so that Michael's powerful thrusts could find their target, time after time after time.

Michael was dizzy with excitement, powerless to do anything other than Amy's bidding. She urged him on, deeper, harder, again and again, cajoling him to plant himself so deep in Julia's mouth that he wondered how she didn't scream in pain. Yet with every thrust, Julia's mouth engulfed and cradled him, accepted him, even drew him deeper, until he came again with a ferocity that might have drowned Julia, had Amy not claimed his cock at the last moment and sucked down every single drop that surged out of him.

Thrilled with her victory, Amy reached for Julia and kissed her. The two women savored the last of Michael's seed on each other's lips.

It was Michael's turn to appear unsteady, so space was made for him upon the couch, and the three of them curled around each other, aimlessly touching and kissing and moaning and desiring each other. They played with the unhurried grace of lovers who knew their exploits would continue until all were well satisfied. Besides, Michael was only now growing comfortable in his role, accepting the freedom to explore and celebrate the bodies around him, taking handfuls or mouthfuls of them on a whim, enjoying them at his leisure.

Amy's thong had finally been discarded, and Michael had launched a two-fingered exploratory mission into the deepest recesses of her vagina. She was tight and wet, and she writhed each time he stroked her vaginal wall. Her cunt was greedy for his touch. Her mouth, however, was locked with Julia's, and her hands were at Julia's breasts. Her body contorted to press against Julia, to cover her, to engulf her, as one might cover a fire with a blanket to smother the blaze. The frenzied moans and cries that escaped her lips, however, showed Julia's passion was only growing, and Amy yearned to feed the fire even more. She trailed hot, wet kisses down Julia's chin and gorged herself on Julia's long, graceful neck. She sucked and nibbled at her ear. And while she licked and nibbled and nuzzled and sucked, she whispered, "I told my husband all about you. I want him to taste you on my skin. I want him to taste you on my face."

She didn't wait for a response. Amy's lips, her hot breath, her insatiable tongue immediately forged a trail down the length of Julia's body, her hands pushing Julia's thighs wide to expose her pussy, shaved smooth and glowing a deep, magnetic pink. Julia felt secure in her place at the center of all things, and she stretched back on the couch to feel creation flowing out of her, from her core, though her clit, through Amy's tongue, through Amy's husband, all the way to the farthest reaches of the universe.

There was lightning. There were earthquakes. Tsunamis burst from the seas, and fires raged through ancient forests. Julia knew that all of the energy consumed in those ferocious events, all the energy consumed throughout the world at that moment, flowed out of her body, coaxed by Amy's lascivious tongue. Amy teased and tickled, pushed and probed, caressed and cajoled until Julia's whole body was ringing at the furious frequency with which Amy's tongue lashed at her clitoris. A slower, deeper, more fundamental rhythm mirrored the movements of Amy's fingers inside Julia's pussy. Her body pulsed with those polyrhythms, and it was all Julia could do to hang on to her consciousness - until Amy's urgency abated.

And the urgency did abate. Briefly. Amy liked to tease. She pushed Julia to the precipice, maneuvered her to the point where she might lose control, and then soothed her and calmed her, allowed her to breathe. Then she whipped her into a frenzy once again.

For a while, Michael was mesmerized by the way Amy toyed with Julia's body. He could almost feel the ripples of Julia's impending orgasm buffeting his own body each time Amy worked her tongue furiously into the core of Julia's sex. But it wasn't long before he found himself distracted by the availability of Amy's flesh. With her head buried between Julia's thighs, Amy presented her magnificent ass rather invitingly to Michael. He knew exactly what needed to be done. Positioning himself behind her, he pushed her thighs apart until her neatly trimmed bush hovered at the appropriate height. His cock, rock hard and hungry, was poised to take her, but he took a delicious moment to run the head of his penis along the lips of her engorged pussy.

Amy inhaled sharply, and instinctively she tilted her hips to welcome Michael's cock. Her heart beat a million times a minute, hammering out the urgency of her cravings - for the sweetness of Julia's cunt and the graceful, erotic response of her lithe, flawless body; for the brutal power she knew Michael would channel through her with each thrust of his hips. But amplifying her excitement was the sweetness of her deceit. Only that morning, she had tantalized her husband with descriptions of Julia's body, boasted to him that she would claim her as a sweet prize, and promised him he would taste Julia on her lips and on her skin afterwards. But she had said nothing of Michael, and, as he entered her for the first time, Amy claimed her secret triumph over her husband. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than for Michael to fill her with his steel and with his cum.

Gripping Amy's hips like he owned them, Michael eased himself slowly inside her. He was surprisingly gentle, and Amy moaned once, twice, three times, mostly from surprise at how wide he stretched her, and how deep inside her he reached. He felt huge and strong, strong enough to skewer her, to tear her apart, and Amy was thankful for that gentle entry. She readied her body to accept him over and over again, to withstand the delicious power with which he would take her. Julia, too, understood the storm that was brewing. She raised her legs and hooked them over Amy's shoulders, her thighs firmly bracing Amy's head. She felt Michael's second stroke directly, his power shooting through Amy's body and onto Julia's clit. Amy even worked a third finger inside Julia's cunt, so she might feel something closer to the exquisite thrill of Michael's impressive girth.

The three-fingered experiment was short-lived, though. As the speed and power of Michael's strokes increased, Amy needed both hands to steady herself on the couch without ploughing headlong over Julia. But her tongue remained locked to Julia's clitoris, so that the two women continued to share every thrust. In an odd moment of synchronicity, the same image flashed in both Amy's mind and Michael's: his cock rending Amy in two and impaling Julia in a single, mighty thrust. In fact, as Michael looked over the entwined bodies that stretched out before him - the sumptuous curves of Amy's ass; her tiny waist; her broad, strong shoulders draped in Julia's long, sensual legs; Julia's pale, perfect breasts crowned in ruby nipples; her auburn hair splayed across the couch - he couldn't help but think he was fucking both women at the same time.

Amy's position was tenuous, perched with one knee on the couch and one foot on the floor. Every breath she took was heavy with Julia's scent, and was accompanied by another of Michael's forceful thrusts. The three of them moved as one. Michael speared his way deep inside Amy, and she in turn worked her tongue inside Julia. All of this played out in a magical, almost mechanical rhythm, each body responding unquestioningly to the next. But the force of Michael's thrusts drained Amy's strength at an alarming rate, and soon her outstretched leg began to tremble. Without withdrawing himself from her, Michael lifted her by the hips and settled her onto the couch. Both her knees were now wedged into the seat, her feet tucked beneath her hips, her saturated pussy still raised, presenting itself for Michael's pleasure. Her increased stability allowed Michael to quicken his strokes, and both women were soon groaning and grunting with every thrust.

Michael was the first of them to cum. His own legs were weakening, and he gave up his body to the intense, intoxicating thrill of fucking both women at once. He didn't hesitate to flood Amy with his essence, and even as he spurted his last, he continued to pump himself into her. Amy exulted to feel him fill her that way, and she allowed herself a moment to savor the fact that this pleasure was stolen without her husband's consent. The thought lasted only a second, however, for Julia promptly erupted with screams and convulsions of her own. Orgasmic fireworks ripped through her body. Her thighs clenched around Amy's head, her back arched, her hips bucked, and she pulled Amy into her with a strength that neither of them knew she possessed. But even in that moment of Julia's wild, unfettered abandon, Amy was spellbound by the fact that Julia remained elegant and effortlessly graceful. She felt her own heart leap for joy, thrilled simply to have brought the younger woman such a beautiful moment of intense pleasure.

By the time Julia's orgasm had subsided, Michael had withdrawn himself from Amy and collapsed onto the couch. Julia couldn't deny that she was happy about that. Sitting at the center of the universe, she knew she should have been focused on facilitating the events the would unfold around her. But right now, she just wanted to claim Amy as her own. It turned out that the center of all creation wasn't always where she wanted to be. Sometimes, she needed a more intimate connection. RIght at that moment, she wanted Amy. She wanted Amy to climax. She wanted Amy to cum for her, and she wanted her to cum because of her. She wanted to watch her face at the peak of her pleasure, wanted to hold her close as the fire of her orgasm died away, wanted Amy to know the depths of her desire. And so she left the universe to fend for itself, and wrapped herself around Amy. She held her close. She whispered to her, confessing her desire for her body, for her passion, for her sex. She kissed her again and again, stroked her skin. And as her fingers found their way to Amy's clit, she looked deep into her eyes. Her gaze plumbed the depths of Amy's soul, hoping to catch a glimpse of some sensual secret that would allow them to maintain that embrace indefinitely. She whispered, "I want you to cum. I need you to cum for me. Loudly. Ecstatically. For me. Just for me."

With a gentle, reassuring smile, Amy signaled her assent. She allowed her eyes to close, and she surrendered herself to the magic of Julia's touch.

Julia's fingers worked inside Amy until they were slick with a heady cocktail of her own nectar and Michael's semen. Raising her hand for a moment, she and Amy were able to share a salacious taste of the commingled juices. When Julia returned to the vital task of bringing Amy to orgasm, she wasted no time with exploration. She touched Amy as if she had known every inch of her body for her whole life, tending to her sexual core with the gentle but insistent ministrations of a sublimely skillful and deeply devoted lover. Her quick, light touches blurred the boundary between fingers and clitoris, so that even the slightest motion of Julia's hand scattered delightful sparks throughout Amy's body. Unlike Amy, Julia did not tease. She moved directly, inexorably to her goal of Amy's total satisfaction. But she did it slowly. Almost imperceptibly, she increased the tension in Amy's body minute by minute, so that Amy herself was unaware of just how tightly wound she had become until her breathing was ragged and her heart was hammering against the inside of her chest. And still, Julia coaxed her further along, oblivious to the pain from Amy's fingers digging deep into her exquisitely formed buttocks, immune to the scratches Amy left along her back.

She continued to whisper to her lover, urging Amy onwards with her simple, frank, often beautiful, occasionally filthy, expressions of her desire. "You'll cum harder for me than you ever have for your husband," she purred. "You'll always cum harder for me."

And Amy, half-delirious with pleasure, moaned, "I will....I...fucking...will...Every...fucking...time..."

After that, words became impossible for Amy. The tension in her body had built to a level she could barely stand. Her body heaved so much when she inhaled that she tried not to breathe at all. Her hips squirmed involuntarily with each subtle movement of Julia's fingers. Her body cried out, almost unable to bear the exquisite pleasure.

Then, in an instant, something snapped, and the tension inside her began to unravel at a furious pace. Her body began to wrench itself in every direction at once, simultaneously burrowing closer to Julia and also straining for separation; longing for the comfort of her body and fearing the white-hot touch that threatened to drive her out of her mind. She ground herself against Julia, recoiled from her in the same instant, and felt her body turning itself inside out with the merciless waves of released tension that juddered from the very center of her being. She wanted to scream louder and more violently than she had ever screamed before. But on opening her mouth, she released something closer to a chant, a low, guttural tone, not in her own voice, but the voice of the rapturous waves that crashed through her body.

Julia watched all of this intently. She watched the expressions on Amy's face flicker between agony and bliss, watched her lips as she struggled to form words, watched her eyes as they rolled back in her head, watched the sweat spring suddenly to her brow. She could feel the thunderous pounding of Amy's heart, and could hear the tension exiting her body in the deep, unnatural moan that emerged from her throat. She watched her writhe and pant and convulse through her climax, and gloried in every second.

By the time the orgasm had subsided, Amy was a limp shadow of the bold and confident woman who had burst into the office that afternoon. She curled herself close to Julia. Her body was spent and she felt she might have fallen apart without Julia's arms and legs and lips and desire wrapped around her, holding her together. Her mind held onto ideas only in a soft focus, edges blurred by the thick veil of bliss that blanketed her consciousness. All she knew for certain was that she wanted to feel that way again and again and again.

The two women shared that sweet exhaustion of the deeply, truly satisfied, clinging to each other as their heart rates slowed, brushing the hair from each other's eyes, cradling each other, until sleep took them both.

Julia awoke with Amy still sleeping in her arms. A smile spread across her face as she felt the warmth of Amy's body and heard the gentle whisper of her breath. She lay there simply watching her for some time, admiring her, studying her, consumed by her. It wasn't until Amy began to stir that Julia even noticed that Michael had left, or that he had draped a light blanket over them before slipping away. With some excitement, Julia noticed that Amy's drowsy, half-opened eyes gave her a wonderfully seductive look, so she squeezed her ass appreciatively and kissed her sweetly on the lips. Amy's waking response was to roll Julia onto her back and swing her leg over her, so she straddled her slender waist. They kissed unhurriedly, relishing the quiet, private chance to enjoy their closeness.

Julia wondered what the time was and how long they had slept. She could tell that night had fallen by the dark, blank windows high on the office wall.

"I guess I'll have to let you go home to your husband," she lamented, as she gently nuzzled

Amy's cheek.

Amy, still hovering above her, sat upright for a moment and offered a slow, thoughtful nod.

"Yes," she said with a heavy sigh. "I guess you will have to send me home. He's still expecting to taste you smeared across my face."

At this, Amy ran her tongue lasciviously over her upper lip before lowering her mouth over Julia's and kissing her once again. When they separated, each woman struggled to hide her disappointment.

Without thinking, Julia suddenly blurted out: "If you were mine, I don't know if I could bear to share you with anyone else."

Immediately, she worried that she had said too much. But Amy swiftly calmed her fears with a sweet, encouraging smile and a tender caress of her cheek.

"If I were yours, I wouldn't want to be shared."

They clung to each other for a few more moments before Amy spoke again.

"You know, if you kidnapped me and took me back to your place, we could probably talk some of this through in the morning."

Julia felt her heart burst with excitement, and a broad grin broke out over her face.

"Or maybe the talking can wait until tomorrow evening?" she suggested.

"Maybe Sunday would be best," concluded Amy.

"And what would I do with you until then?"

"Anything you like, Julia. Anything you like."

They both giggled as they sprang from the couch and began to scour the office for all their discarded clothes.