You Are What You Eat

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
krr1957
krr1957
1,559 Followers

With one last backward look at the mirror I made my way downstairs and out to the pool. I was so caught up in thoughts of my own self image that I had passed by the shaded sun lounger before I even realized that it was occupied.

"You look nice."

I froze for a fraction of a second and then turned to see Izabel sitting up in the lounger nursing a glass of orange juice. She was wearing the same robe that she had worn in the studio and I wondered guiltily if she was wearing anything underneath it but I managed to keep my eyes fixed on hers. The problem was that she was wearing a particularly dark pair of sunglasses and I could not shake the feeling that she was looking me up and down.

"Izabel, we need to talk."

"Come and sit here."

She drew up her legs and made a space on the lounger. There were no other chairs at hand and it seemed churlish to make an issue of it. I sat down on the space that she had created and tried to strike as maternal a pose as I was capable of before I continued.

"I think you owe me an apology."

Her face remained impassive and I found myself staring at my own reflection in her glasses. Only slowly did her face break into a smile.

"An apology? I was only giving you what you wanted."

For a moment I was lost for words but I quickly recovered.

"Whatever you may think, I have no interest in other women and particularly not you."

She seemed to ponder this before she replied.

"Why do you continue to delude yourself?"

Her condescending attitude caught me off balance.

"Look, like it or not, you and I are going to have to get along. I suggest we make a fresh start and never speak of this again."

It was not quite what I intended to say but now that I had made the magnanimous gesture I felt as though I had gained the high ground.

There was another long pause during which I struggled to read her expression and, for reasons I could not explain, I found my heart beating faster. I was about to get up and leave when she broke the silence.

"I am going to make you this offer just once. If you choose not to accept it will never be offered again."

What happened next shocked me into immobility. The fixed gaze of her sunglasses was unwavering as she slowly parted her knees allowing her robe to slip open. She was completely naked beneath it and, whilst her breasts were not quite revealed, nothing else was left to the imagination.

She held her legs wide and her scent teased my nostrils causing me to look down without thinking. Her sex stood out pink and raw against the blackness of her pubis and she had obviously been masturbating.

"You may go down on me."

I was stunned by her audacity and I tried to lift my eyes but they slid down her tanned, flawless, legs towards the beckoning pit. The rest of the world faded out slowly into the periphery as my whole awareness became focused on that one spot.

In my mind I could hear the voice of reason bellowing at me but I was falling prey to a subconscious desire the dark nature of which was settling over me like a heavy shroud. Beneath its weight I felt myself begin to bend and at the same time a phantom taste passed over my tongue.

She was saying something to me. Her voice was seductive, siren-like, but I did not hear the words, only the tone lulling my senses. I was dipping lower, my head between her thighs, and her scent wreathed about me like a miasma.

Somewhere, in the receding distance, I was reprimanding her, reminding her of the respect that I deserved but it was merely a spectre in my imagination.

I was so close now that I could feel the heat of her. I hovered, hesitatingly, just centimeters over the jungle canopy of her pubis and then, in a final surrender, I pushed my tongue down into the undergrowth seeking out the warm reeking mire.

That first taste, as my tongue flattened her puffy, welcoming, labia, was sharp and I felt an almost petulant disappointment but as I tried to delve deeper I was rewarded with a warm syrupy rush which filled my mouth.

Once I had her taste I wanted more; it was an almost primal urge and I could not fight it. I pressed my mouth to her, forming a crude seal, and pushed my tongue clumsily inside. It was like turning a tap. I could feel the pulse of her excitement and, with every beat, came more heavy dew.

I do not know how long I remained locked there but at some point her thighs closed about my head and I felt her hands pulling me in. I realized, in an oddly detached way, that I was not breathing but there was a strange comfort in surrender.

The pressure on my head grew and, with a final heaving shudder, my mouth was assailed by a final gush of moisture.

As she slowly relented I was able to draw a normal breath but, as my head cleared, the hideous realization of what I had just done came home to me.

With disgust threatening to overwhelm me I sprang away from her and as I stumbled across the patio it was with her mocking laughter ringing in my ears.

I slammed the bedroom door behind me and dashed into the bathroom. For a moment I hovered over the toilet as nausea swept over me but then, having regained control of my stomach, I opened the basin tap fully and sloshed water over my face flooding the floor in the process.

I must have stood there for minutes on end trying to cleanse myself and at some point I began to cry. For a few seconds I fought to get a grip but soon my body was being racked by a series of heaving sobs.

Finally, I grabbed a towel and dried myself off but I still felt unclean. I tossed the towel aside and went back into the bedroom and then I started to feel anger. In some twisted way it was focused on Mateus. He had invited me to his home and made me vulnerable. All logic dictated that my ire should have been directed at Izabel but I must have unwittingly given off a signal suggesting an attraction which she had simply tuned in to.

I had to get away.

My suitcases were in the dressing room, not even emptied as yet, and I heaved them back into the bedroom. Within minutes I had my clothes and personal effects stuffed inside and, with a strength fueled by anger, I dragged them out to the car.

I was almost at the airport before sanity kicked back in. I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to think straight. I did not want to lose Mateus and why should I? It was not implicit in our relationship that I had to get along with Izabel and in a few weeks time she would be back at University. I had had an aberrant moment but I just needed to pretend that it had never happened. Izabel was certainly not going to raise it with her step-father and if she chose to bring it up with me I would put her straight in no uncertain terms.

Now that I had a plan I began to feel more in control of myself. I phoned Mateus and, pleading a headache, I cancelled lunch and proposed dinner instead. That done, I returned to the manor and unpacked my bags. I was minded to seek out Izabel and clear the air but decided that I would wait and see how she reacted the next time we met.

Dinner went well and represented a return to normality. Mateus invited a client and his wife at the last minute but they were pleasant company and I was pleased to make a good impression.

When we arrived home Mateus was feeling particularly amorous but, whilst I was anxious to expunge the morning's events, I did not feel up to making love. He was disappointed but understanding when I hinted that my headache had not quite disappeared.

Shortly after retiring to bed I began to regret my decision. I had trouble sleeping and when I did manage to doze off I was plagued by unwanted images. With the seed planted I had dreams of making love to Mateus but each time we broke apart I found that it was Izabel sharing my bed.

Finally exhaustion overtook me but only to present me with the most vivid dream of all. I was back at the pool but this time it was me occupying the lounger whilst Izabel licked me to a shattering orgasm.

To my embarrassment I woke myself by crying out and found that I had my hand between my legs with two fingers deep inside myself. I remained frozen as Mateus stirred but, having turned over, his breathing steadied and he surrendered to sleep once more.

My body was clammy with perspiration as I slowly withdrew my fingers and then, without thinking, I brought them to my lips. For a second or two I inhaled gently through my nose and then I touched them with the tip of my tongue. Almost instantly I shuddered and thrust my hands down by my side but I had disturbed Mateus once again.

He nuzzled into me and planted a soft kiss on my neck. I could have remained still, and I am sure that he would have left it at that, but I turned slightly so that I was lying on my back. Taking this as a sign of encouragement he lifted his head and placed a second kiss on my cheek and I could feel his cock coming to life.

He ventured further, kissing me delicately on the lips, and I felt my own body beginning to react. I brought up my hand and tousled his hair but, at the same time, I pressed gently encouraging him to move down to my breasts.

I think he was surprised to find my nipples already fully engorged but he did not miss a beat. I gasped as he took the rigid teat into his mouth and began to work his own brand of magic with his tongue.

Mateus was in love with my breasts and would happily apply himself for as long as it took to bring me to orgasm but, whilst I could come this way, I now had a more urgent need.

With my hand still on his head I applied a steady downward pressure but he did not yield to it. It may have been that he was reluctant to give up my breast but there was another, more likely, possibility.

In common with many Latin men Mateus showed reluctance when it came to going down on a woman. To his credit he did extend the favour from time to time and he had proved skillful when put to it but I did have one complaint. He was very fastidious and he could only be called upon to do it immediately after I had taken a shower. This removed any element of spontaneity and, on one or two occasions, this had made me resentful.

We remained poised, with an awkward tension between us, but this time I was going to put my own needs first. Whilst still guiding his head I slid myself upwards and sideways in a single movement. Taken by surprise he now found his face between my thighs. He instinctively tried to jerk away as he was confronted by my sopping sex but I held him fast.

"Lick me."

I had never asked him straight out before. I think, psychologically, he could only come to terms with it if he believed that it was his choice.

He hesitated for an instant and then simply acted as though he had not heard me. He started to rise taking hold of his erection as he did so. For some reason this angered me. It was as if he were suggesting that I did not really know what I wanted and that he knew better.

With rather more force than I intended I pulled him down onto me.

"Lick me!"

His expression was pained but there was no doubt that he had heard this time. For a split second I was tempted to give in but Mateus was trapped by his innate sense of chivalry. He could not refuse a lady and, as I watched, he bent to his task. I am sure that he flinched as his tongue made contact with my sex, which was still hot with excitement, but he quickly hid any qualms that he may have been having and started to lick with a firm steady rhythm.

It did not matter that his heart was not in it, it was enough for me to have him down and dirty. I think that Mateus saw our lovemaking as beautiful as defined by the art that was so much a part of his life and I realized that I had gone along with him. I was beginning to forget just how fulfilling a simple, lust-fuelled, fuck could be.

With that, I surrendered to a simple animal passion and used both hands to pull him more tightly to me. He stopped licking but it no longer mattered I rubbed myself against him and grunted as I reached a wrenching orgasm. Only as the final spasms passed, and I was coaxed back to reality, did I realize that I still had not let him go.

He got up and, with a slightly strained smile, he padded off to the bathroom. I heard water running and then the buzzing of his electric toothbrush which, for reasons I could not quite explain, I found mildly offensive.

When he came back into the room his erection had wilted and, without another word, he got back into bed next to me and quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, as was becoming his habit, he was gone before I woke and I went downstairs to take breakfast alone. I had already decided that I would drive into Sintra to sketch the Palacio National de Vila with its curious conical chimneys. I had a regular buyer who collected paintings of historic buildings and I hoped to interest him.

I wanted to take a blanket so that I could sketch on the grass and the cook directed me to the linen cupboard in the upstairs hall. As I made my way I had to pass by the guest rooms and my natural curiosity drew me to look inside. The first two were tastefully furnished with period pieces and both were immaculately kept. The third came as a surprise. Its centerpiece was an exquisitely carved four poster bed but it was a bed that had been slept in. The bedclothes were strewn halfway onto the floor which was littered with women's clothes. Stepping cautiously inside I realized that this must have been where Izabel was staying not withstanding the fact that Mateus maintained a room for her in the family wing of the house.

I hate untidiness and almost without thinking I straightened the bed and started to pick up clothes. Beneath a carelessly discarded skirt I found a pair of black panties and, with a feeling of distaste, I was about to leave them just where I had found them but then I noticed the gold motif. It was a pair of limited edition Janet Regers exactly the same as a pair that I owned.

Now my suspicion was roused and I picked them up to check the label.

"You've taken to sniffing my panties now. Is that it?"

I turned around to find Izabel standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She was leaning against the doorframe and her tousled hair and short red silk chemise suggested that she was not long out of bed.

I had no idea how long she had been watching me and I felt my anger rising..

"Don't be so impudent. Can't you tidy up after yourself?"

She came into the room.

"What are you? My mother now?"

This was not an argument that I wanted to get into and I was frustrated that I had not got a good enough look at the label to be able to challenge her.

As I struggled for a reply she put down her coffee on the bedside table and then, having plumped up the pillows, she sat up on the bed.

"You don't have to resort to panties...all you had to do was ask."

She slowly drew up her knees parting them as she did so putting herself lewdly on display.

Once again it was her brazenness that confounded me; I could no more act like that than take my own life. She was a complete slut but then, with a pang of guilt, I reminded myself of my own behaviour just hours before with Mateus. Was I any better?

She cut through my thoughts as she spoke again.

"I'm prepared to overlook yesterday's impetuosity, after all, it was your first time, but today I want you to focus on my needs."

She spoke as though scolding a guilty schoolchild but her words triggered some deep-seated impulse. My mother was as good a parent as I could have wished for but I always had the sense that I could not satisfy her. Through school and university she was always chiding me gently, calling for more effort, and I was driven to please her.

Izabel was somehow tuned in to this vulnerability and she was playing on it. She gently patted the bed beckoning me forward and I was drawn in like a satellite in a decaying orbit.

Once I had taken the first step forward I was lost and her smile confirmed it. I laid down on the bed and put my head between her legs seeking out the comfort offered by her womanhood.

"Take your time...lick me gently."

Her scent clouded my mind and I simply wanted to consume her but I did as she asked, wanting to please. I licked at each of her labia in turn coaxing them to life.

"Suck them..."

I turned my head slightly and delicately drew a fleshy lip into my mouth before teasing it with my tongue.

She moaned with pleasure and shifted slightly on the bed.

"Don't stop."

For the next few minutes I teased each angel wing in turn as she leaked moisture on to an ever growing damp patch on the bedding. Fired with success I started to press my tongue inwards. I wanted the taste and the comforting pressure but she had other ideas.

"Not yet. Lick me some more...long strokes."

I wanted to rebel but the sheer depravity of what I was doing was acting on me like a drug. My heart was hammering and I could feel myself getting wetter.

I flattened my tongue and licked along the length of her sex . I soon found a rhythm and bobbed my head back and forth my nose rasping against the coarseness of her pubic hair with each stroke. I was getting so into it that it took a moment to realize that she was sipping at her coffee even as I laboured.

"That's nice...just like that."

I should have felt demeaned but, like the ambitious student I once was, I was simply spurred to try harder.

It was at least another ten minutes before she put down the cup and I did not flag even though my tongue was tiring fast.

The next signal came as she used two fingers to press herself open revealing the pink pearl of her clitoris. My first thought was that it was so much bigger than my own, almost masculine in it's prominence; I felt a curious envy but with it came a feeling of intimidation.

"Lick it nicely"

It was curiously smooth and tasteless as I lapped with the tip of my tongue but the effect on Izabel was immediate. Her body became taut with expectation, as though she feared that movement would break the spell, and I felt a subtle shift in the balance of power. Now I began to tease her, at one minute flicking my tongue rapidly and the next circling slowly around the retracted hood.

"You little bitch..."

It was an admonishment but there was the tiniest hint of admiration and I felt a swelling of pride. I redoubled my efforts and, as her body to jerk, I stayed with her ratcheting up her pleasure notch by notch until, suddenly, the pawl slipped and her orgasm took her with the rapid release of tension.

I wanted to go deep, to taste her at her moment of bliss, but she scissored her legs behind my head keeping me firmly pressed to her clitoris.

When she finally deigned to release me I wanted to lap at her ripeness of her sex but she peremptorily pushed me away and I felt, in some way, cheated.

"That was nice. Perhaps I ought to make it part of my breakfast routine."

I knew she was mocking me but I chose to ignore it as I summoned up courage. Moving down the bed, a little away from her, I raised my skirt a couple of inches.

"Will you..?"

She let the unfinished question hang in the air for a moment before answering with a cruel laugh.

"Don't you get it? I don't do other women."

Chapter 3

I slunk out of the room without another word, my humiliation complete. I recognized that my relationship with Izabel was deviant but I had believed that we were co-conspirators both sharing a common need. I was badly wrong. Our needs were completely different. Hers was a selfish pleasure heightened by her delight in belittling me and mine an unnatural appetite that stripped me of dignity.

I had to get away if only for a few days.

Mateus would have been upset if I had said that I was flying back to London, my preferred destination, and so, instead, I phoned to tell him that I was going to Seville for a few days. Claire, a contemporary of mine at University, was in the city for a month researching a new book and she had issued an open invitation. The good thing was that I had already broached the possibility of a visit some days earlier.

krr1957
krr1957
1,559 Followers
123456...8