Zita's New Apartment Ch. 03

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Zita continues her ride in the back seat with a lesbian.
2.3k words
4.39
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/12/2022
Created 09/30/2006
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After our communal laugh, with its mixture of relief, embarrassment, and flirtation (well that last one was less in the laugh itself and more in the confused and bashful exchange of eyes between Fed and me as the laugh subsided), I didn't know what to do or say; so I turned my head against my window with my elbow up on the door and my fingers in my bangs, and tried to spy the roadway ahead. It was a natural sort of position that just came to me, given how I was slumped back in my corner of the seat. Nonetheless, I could not possibly have been oblivious to how it was spreading my chest, particularly on the right side, prying the deep V of my satin slip apart and showcasing the inside round of my right breast for Fed. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been a big deal; just a sexy pose. But after the whole ride with her -- from my accidental but sluttishly suggestive ogle of her boobs before we even got in the car to my premeditated, pseudo-clandestine tit flash (oh my god!) just a few minutes ago -- the situation was anything but ordinary. Hell, what could she have been thinking but that I was ready, was practically begging to be converted. I mean, for heaven's sake, after everything else, I'd just felt up her boob, and my only defence was that I was only trying to get to her nipple so I could give it a good pinch.

And so I found myself asking myself: "Why am I not putting my arm down? She's looking at me, right at me, and why am I not moving?" I could feel my slow breaths heaving my sternum. I stared out the window like my life depended on it, because as long as she didn't know I knew she was looking, I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't TRYING to be sexy for the older, lesbian woman.

But it was impossible not to look at her, after enough seconds of contrived innocence. Yes, she was looking straight at my breast, and she let herself keep doing it even as I watched her -- even as I, evidently, permitted her. After enjoying the view for more than long enough to incriminate us both, she started to raise her eyes, gently, up to mine. I grew rapidly unsettled as they climbed. There was nothing to do but make a quip before they got to me.

"Planning a second strike?" I said, twinkling. Ha ha, that was it. I was smug, bemused. Tolerant of her eccentricity, but hardly given over to the (rumored) sapphic delights myself.

"Ah, no," she responded, and her demure lidding of the eyes disarmed me. It was such an adorable expression, really somehow innocent, and delicate. I felt coarse. I took my elbow down and faced her.

"Good," I teased, "because...because you're a much easier target now."

She looked to where I was looking and saw her right nipple, still plucky, assaulting her blouse. She smiled. "Look what you did to me." Then she shifted herself up out of her slump, brought her right knee up onto the seat, and squared her chest to me. She looked from one plump boob to the other. "I'm all uneven."

True enough, her left nipple was barely visible, although I reckoned it had done a little growing of its own.

Now I've said before that the car wasn't very large, and at this moment, Fedora's breasts were little more than a foot away from me. I was looking slightly down on the uneven nipples, taking in a decent helping of shady cleavage unavoidably. Moreover, because I was still slouching back on something of an angle, the silky shin she had brought up onto the seat was pressed against my thigh. I was run through by the feel -- the heat and the tender adhesion -- of her skin on mine, even as my eyes were filled with the sight of the cool, creamy pelt between her breasts. In a flash, like a revelation, I was conceiving of Fedora in the nude. I don't mean I was mentally undressing her, or daydreaming, or something; I mean her clothes suddenly became the weightless extras they were, draped over her but no more part of my notion of her than the car we were in. I was washed over with the awareness that she was actually all skin, from the hollow at the base of her neck down under her blouse and her bra and her panties and her skirt, all the way to her shiny knees and athletic calves. That sounds obvious enough, I guess, but it's really a rare way to perceive someone, even if you've seen them unclothed. For a second, I felt like I'd really walked in on Fed changing; I felt guilty. And then, of course, I felt a tad giddy, stoked by my discovery.

"What?" asked Fedora, spotting my face.

"Oh -- nothing." I paused, then looked away. "No." I shook my head. "Nothing."

"What?" she pressed inquisitively.

"Never mind."

"Oh come on."

I looked back to her, and she was made of clothes again. I had to focus to break their spell and see Fed as she naturally was. Thirty-four years old, and what a body! Those great big melons, hanging only slightly lower than their size demanded; the slender midriff; the flared hips and powerful thighs; the voluptuous calves and svelte ankles. Her arms, smooth and elegant. Her weighty, black curls tickling her collar bones, and her tinted Greek complexion.

Well, anyway, I had to say something, something believable, to get her to stop asking. "No," I began, "I just thought that you...have nice skin."

Fed gave me a puzzled look, and took a gander down at her cleavage, which was the only patch of skin anywhere near the uneven nipples that I had supposedly been inspecting. To get a better view, she pulled her little scarf from around her neck. Great. It seemed that in my attempt to be innocuous, I had managed to compliment Fed on the "nice skin" of her breasts.

"What, on my boobs?" she asked me incredulously.

"Naw, I mean everywhere."

She seemed to think about that, but then I realized that she was just gazing at all the skin on display where her shin met my thigh, which was still bare owing to the bunching of my already short "dress" at my groin. And then she let her eyes roam all over my young, shapely legs. "So do you," she said. The roaming didn't stop, but went on up my delicate arms to the exposed margins of my breasts and the long V of my chest.

And now, in a characteristic crazed moment, my brain struck on a lame pretext for doing something I wasn't supposed to do. And that was enough. Without warning, I pulled the wings of my slip completely off my breasts and bared them to her. I knew they were magnificent: full but only slightly large; tender, pert, and taut; with pale, triangular tan lines from my bikini and bright pink nipples ready to shoot off across the car. I figured they were her best fantasy come true. Certainly the look on her face was, as they say, priceless. Even before, with my little surreptitious flash, she hadn't seen them like this. It was like I'd injected her with something. But it was time for the pretext:

"What, on my boobs?"

I had forced the joke too hard, but wasn't sure she heard me anyway. Flushed with pumping blood and shame, I set the satin back on my tits and tried to look nonchalant. She took a glance at my face, but never really stopped looking at my chest. "Geez, Fed, you look like you've never seen a girl's tits before."

"I've never seen a pair like that." She was still looking at them. "Not outside of Playboy."

"You read Playboy?" I jested accusingly. But what the hell was I thinking? She probably actually did read Playboy. Duh.

Fed finally took her eyes off my tits. "No," she said. "I look at the pictures."

I laughed, having decided very quickly to treat it as a joke. And it was actually funny, which helped.

"Have you ever done any modelling?" she asked me.

"For Playboy?"

"Sure, why not? But for anything. I meant it when I said you're spectacular. You've got the face of a starlet and the body of a model. And I doubt Playboy is your thing, but we both know those breasts are really sensational."

"You're doing pretty well yourself."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, definitely."

Fed was leaning back in her seat again now, and her knee had come down, but I noticed she was "letting" her calf lean up against mine. She put her hands under her bosom and hefted it a couple of times. Then, considering it with sober, critical eyes, she began to unbutton her blouse. Her bra was lacy and black as it emerged. Once all the buttons were free, she parted the two flanks and pulled them back to her sides. I noticed she pushed herself out a bit. "Nothing like yours," she said.

"They're bigger."

"Bigger isn't better."

"Bigger is good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You think they look good?"

"Yeah."

"They droop, you know, when you get to my age."

"Those aren't drooping." I gave her an assured look.

She chuckled. "Well, that's the bra."

"I don't think so."

"Oh? Do you want me to take it off and prove it to you?"

I smiled and shrugged deferentially. "I don't think it's the bra."

"Is that a yes? If you think I'm afraid to go topless in the back of a car, you're wrong."

"We're almost there, I think."

"So?" She proceeded to slough her blouse off her shoulders and tossed it at me. It only took her a second to unclasp her bra, and then she was peeling it off, staring me down defiantly the whole time. It was all I could do to answer her stare and not look down at the show. When it was done, she handed me the bra, casually (but she was trembling!) and I took it from her. I looked at her bare breasts. They were indeed drooping a bit more than in the bra, but it was very natural and beautiful and fitting. They were impressive mammaries, that was for sure. She was a beautiful creature.

"Not so weightless now, are they?" she said.

I was caught without words. "Uh..."

"See, I told you."

"No," I stammered. "They're lovely."

"Lovely?"

Someone in a car passing slowly in the left lane looked in and saw her, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and he looked over too. Fed saw me watching them and turned, giving them an even better view. She did a cute little pose and blew them a kiss, and then we turned off to the right.

"Wow, I never pegged you for an exhibitionist."

"I could say the same thing about you."

"Me?" I'm not sure if it was all credible at that point, me feigning innocence.

An SUV with two young guys in the back came up on my side of the car and Fed pointed her nose at them, getting me to look. Then hadn't noticed her yet. "Come on," she said, and she pointed her nose now at my slip, a wild look in her eye.

"Oh..." I shook my head.

"Come on. Come on, he's turning." She put on a sultry expression in anticipation. I looked out my window and saw the near guy turning his head towards us. I looked back at Fed, topless and glorious.

"Fuck!" I said, and I pulled the slip right off my shoulders, worked it right down to my hips. Fed couldn't help her attention springing to me, to my fantasy figure, my fantasy breasts, all my miles of fantasy skin. Then the guys saw us and began gawking. Steeling ourselves with a mutual glare, we faced them and offered pouts and little dainty finger waves. They were a bit high up in their SUV, and Fed slid across to my side of the car so they could see her better. She slid right up against me. I felt a large, cool breast compress against my back. The guys rolled down their window to goad us on. In the front seat, Kell was keeping tabs on all this bemusedly. "Bad girls!" she shouted over her music. Then our two cars moved apart.

Fed put a palm on my shoulder blade. "See, now that was fun, wasn't it?" she chimed gleefully. Her bare tit was still pressed against my bare back, and we were hip to hip, so that, really, she was sort of half embracing me. I was terrified and giggly, and I couldn't help myself from leaning back into her. It was so slight as to be barely perceptible. But she curled her other hand around my upper arm and pulled us gently together, and held us there without any force at all. I twisted my neck around to search her face, and afraid of that, ended up looking at her free breast. It was so close. I could smell her skin.

Intoxicated, I swung my arm up and around her back, rotating myself properly into my seat, so that instead of pressing into my back, her right boob was pressed against my left tit and my thigh was up on top of her knee. Her right arm had followed my shoulder blade around, and so now we were half embracing each other. I was in love with this woman. I was totally, heart-to-tits-to-clit in love with her. I put my free hand on the round of her free breast, slightly underneath, and passed my thumb across her nipple.

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bigrimmstalesbigrimmstalesalmost 14 years ago
Beautiful

...though i can't go with the instant love bit. However, I can go with instant lust. You continue to write so well, though maybe this section could have been longer, e.g. the scenario with the woman in the corridor.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 17 years ago
Amazing!

This story was amazing. Please write more!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 17 years ago
Please write a new chapter for Leoni's Thrills

This was a great addition to this series, but please please PLEASE write a new chapter for Leoni's Thrills.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 17 years ago
Please continue! Soon!

I relate so completly to what you have written. Please continue. Its like you've written what's in my heart.

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