Bobbie Baby

I met Bobbie at Lisa and Jake's housewarming party. By the time the party started, I was already tired -- I'm not exactly a social butterfly, and I'd spent the afternoon helping Lisa get her house ready and setting out food. I'm friendly enough, but I'm not outgoing. Even though I said hello to everyone and even mingled a little, I spent more time sitting out on the patio with the dog, eating chips, and occasionally slipping the chips to the dog, which is why I suspect the dog was finding me such good company.

"Pardon, do you have a light?" I handed the woman my lighter and tossed the dog another chip.

She lit up, illuminating full lips painted dark red, and handed it back. "Thanks. You out here getting away from it all, or do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Sure," I said. "Please sit down." I smiled at her automatically, then looked again. Most fabulous looking girl! She had blonde hair -- bombshell blonde, unapologetically out of a bottle, worn in a 40's style updo with the cliché Bettie Page bangs, but instead of framing the Gawth-pale face with drawn-on eyebrows, her skin looked soft and natural, and her brows were perfect arches over big dark eyes -- again lined retro-style, with heavy dark lashes, but on her it was done right. Add in those lush red lips, and oh, yes, be still my beating heart. Not too perfect-looking, mind you; gorgeous, but not intimidating and unattainable-looking. She was just this side of plump, with voluptuous curves barely contained in a poison-green satin wiggle dress. There was a rose tattooed on the upper curve of one of her breasts. I'm not huge on tattoos, but she was so damn easy on the eyes it added rather than detracted. This woman looked so soft and pleasing, and lovely, and when she took a drag off her cigarette, those perfectly-uptilted tits raised in a way that made me catch my breath.

"Sorry, didn't mean to stare. You look...great," I said.

She grinned; one of her front teeth was slightly chipped. "Thanks. You're not too bad, yourself."

"Thanks," I didn't look too bad tonight -- I'm small, curvy myself (though not to the full effect this pretty critter was), and a bit exotic-looking; I'd decided to wear a sundress with a pattern of blue roses -- also vintage in cut, and showing off what I have. But next to this angel? Chopped liver.

"It's nice to see someone else who likes retro looks. Would you mind standing up so I can see your dress better?"

I complied, twirling campily, ending with a little curtsey. I had a fleeting moment of thinking I was an idiot, but she smiled and looked me up and down, the tip of her tongue caught between her front teeth, and I realized that yes, I was flirting. And she was responding.

"Nice," she nodded. "That's perfect on you. You're lovely." The dog, realizing that he wasn't getting enough attention and the chip distribution had paused, had wandered down into the yard. The girl took one last drag on her cigarette and leaned over to put it out in the ashtray on the table between us, causing a minor commotion in the top of her dress again.

"I'm Bobbie, by the way. I used to work with Lisa's boyfriend Jake. We started hanging out together back then, and we're still buddies. Don't know Lisa as well as I'd like to yet, but she seems to be good people."

I took her proffered hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Lula. I've known Lisa for about...seven years? Jeez, it's been that long...I don't know Jake that well yet, myself."

She shook my hand. But she didn't quite let it go as quickly as one usually does, and she squeezed my fingers gently when she finally did relinquish it.

We chatted for a while, in a way that might have been completely innocent, but had an undercurrent of flirtation. I'm really pretty shy and not demonstrative, and as a bisexual woman, I move really cautiously especially when it comes to girls I find attractive. I swore, though, she seemed more than casually interested about my relationship status: I'm engaged, my fiance is geographically distant, and while neither of us would want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship, he knows my tendency to like girls...and it turns him on. Me playing with girls is all right in his book. I tiptoed around that, but she did get that I sometimes play with girls. So it was out there.

"I prefer girls, myself. I don't date a lot, and I do date guys sometimes, but...I like women better." She said, finishing off with another adorable, seismic shrug. I could have sworn she was suddenly even warmer toward me, and sitting a little closer. She reached out and touched the back of my hand. "Do you want to go in and get another drink?"

We both chose Diet Cokes from the ice-filled cooler in the kitchen. While we were standing there talking, someone jostled my elbow. Diet Coke fizzed out, scoring a direct hit on the front of my dress.

"Dammit," I said, swiping my fingers at it uselessly.

"Hang on -- let me see if they have any seltzer or something." She went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of club soda and a cloth napkin.

"I don't think it'll be too bad..." I muttered, swiping at my chest with the napkin.

"Cola stains. Come on, let's get as much of it off as we can." She led me to the little bathroom by the kitchen, closing and locking the door behind us.

She was all business as she poured club soda onto the napkin, and began dabbing and blotting at the Diet Coke. "Now your top's going to be kind of wet...but it'd be a shame to have a stain on this gorgeous dress..." I could see the gray-brown spill diluting as she dabbed and blotted. I was so close to her, I could smell her: she smelled like jasmine and vanilla, maybe something underpinning it like talcum powder, with a slight tang of salt and cigarette smoke. And here she was, casually blotting a stain on my breast. It seemed like her touch was lingering, and I was conscious that I was breathing a little faster and deeper.

Her fingers ran along the side of my right breast, caressing along the fabric of my dress. I stiffened. Was she...? She gently cupped the curve of it as if to answer my unspoken question. Yes, she was...so I relaxed against her touch, releasing my held breath. Bobbie was pleased at my reaction; I felt her hot breath against the skin of my neck, the lightest touch of her nose there as she kissed my neck softly, nuzzling against me. She kissed me more firmly there, parting her lips to graze her tongue across my skin. Every nerve ending in my body stood at full attention when she did that, and I arched my neck toward the sensation. Her hand on my tit because more insistent in its caress, she thumbed my stiffening nipple before slipping her fingers under the top of my dress and bra. Her touch was hot against my skin; the gentle caresses became more aggressive. I inclined my head toward where she nibbled my neck; she raised her mouth so our lips met in a soft deep hot kiss.

She was working on the side zipper of my dress with the hand not fondling my breast when a knock on the door made us both jump.

"Be out in just a minute!" She trilled sweetly. I had to stifle laughter. She pulled her hand free, and then pulled me close into a deeper harder kiss. She took my hand and guided it under the skirt of her dress to her pussy, pressing my hand against the silky wet panties. Wet? They were soaking. I could tell her pussy was waxed or shaved like my own, and I could feel the hot bump of her engorged clit between puffy labia. I slid my finger under the elastic and rubbed the hot wet slit, my own pussy responding in kind when my effort was rewarded with a little pussy juice. I pulled my finger back out and brought it up to my mouth, sucking the tart sweetness from my fingertip. We kissed again, and arranged ourselves into innocence, ready to cede the bathroom to whomever needed it.

"You know...my house is only down the block. Would you want...do you..."

I kissed her neck. "Yes." No doubt!

Our hosts were busy, so with a few waves and "see ya"s we were out the door pretty quick. And down the block almost as quickly, giggling like girls as we bantered and touched each other under the lemon light of the streetlamps. She wrapped her arm around me and rubbed my hip as she unlocked the door, remarking, "I have a housemate, but she's out at her boyfriend's for the night. Even if she comes back, it's cool." She kicked the door closed behind us and pulled me to her, our mouths finding each other, her hand groping my ass through my skirt. She moaned when I pulled my mouth down and nibble-kissed her cheek, her ear, her neck. I wanted to get her breasts out of that green dress so I could play with them, so I moved my hand on her back from her waist to the top of the dress, finding the zipper and tugging it down gently. As the top came undone, I pushed one of the shoulder straps with it, exposing a beautiful big round breast encased in lacy pink bra cup, like a delicious dessert displayed in a frilly pastry cup. It was so beautiful and succulent; I eased the bra strap off her shoulder and slipped her tit out, giving it a closer look. Very large and plump, round with just the smallest bit of sag, the nipple like a pebble on large pale areola. This was the one with the rose tattoo; it was better work than usual, and it only added to the prettiness of her breast, really. I lowered my head, filling my mouth with the taste of her jasmine-and-vanilla scent and all of that areola, sucking hard. I was enraptured by this simple act, thinking about how sweet her pussy was also going to taste. Still sucking, I reached up and pulled the other strap down to free the other tit. She cupped the breast in her hand, pretty, pale and wobbly, offering the nipple to me, so I transferred my oral attention, while gently pinching and toying with the other tit.

She moaned loudly as I sucked and squeezed, stroking my hair. Then she stopped me with a finger under my chin, raising my mouth to hers for another long deep kiss. Bobbie pushed my skirt up roughly, hooked a finger in the side strap of my underpants, and tugged firmly at them.

"Let's get these off now," she said. I pulled them down and stepped out of them. She stopped me when I started to unzip my dress (I noticed totally irrelevantly that the stain was gone and the dress was dry.)

"Leave it on for now. Get on the sofa, baby." I sat; she gestured, her dress and bra still half-pulled down, sweet pale breasts begging for more attention. "No, sit up on the back. Come on -- up." I moved to sit on the back of the sofa, my back against the wall, legs apart and feet -- still in shoes -- on the seat of the sofa. She climbed onto the sofa, kneeling between my parted legs, stroking the skin and kissing my thighs with gentle pecks as she pushed my skirt up further until my bare, wet pussy was exposed, slick lips splayed open in anticipation, clit swollen. Then I felt her hot breath as she leaned in to kiss my cunt.

At first she was gentle, nibbling my outer lips and running her tongue along the creases and folds of my inner lips and cunt opening, pushing her tongue gently into the hole, making me moan and get even wetter. I felt like I could come any second with all that gentle lapping and exploration going on. She sensed I was close, and pulled back a little.

"Please, please keep eating my pussy," I asked, stroking her hair. She grinned up at me, her chin already slick, and licked her lips. Then she pushed my outer labia apart roughly with one hand and plunged two fingers of the other straight into my juicy cooze, eliciting a long gasp as the fingertips wriggled their way to the g-spot. She bent down and drew my engorged clit into her mouth hard, beating it with her flicking tongue as her lips sucked on the hood. She was really sucking my clit, working fast and hard to make me come, fingers pumping into and out of my hole, the stimulation of the spot inside me making my thighs shake.

Sucked so relentlessly, my clit betrayed me before my g-spot could, and I wrapped my fingers deeper into her hair, keeping her in place as I came against her sweet hot mouth, cresting each wave of pleasure against her probing tongue. She locked her arms around my thighs and changed from sucking to licking my clit hard as I was coming; it was becoming too much sensation, but she only relented when I squirmed away from her tongue, laughing and gasping as I did.

"Wow..." I started, when I could catch enough breath. "Oh my...that was fast. And...hard. Wow." She chuckled, her mouth pressed against the flesh of my inner thigh, sending post-orgasmic twinges and shivers through my cunt. She licked my thigh and moved her mouth back to my sopping-wet pussy, poking my clit with her tongue. I couldn't help it -- I squealed. "Easy on that!"

Her response was to wriggle that hard little tongue-tip on my clit, making me squirm and wriggle. "God your pussy tastes so good," she murmured, then kissed it again for good measure before releasing me. She pulled away and took my hands in each of hers. She was so pretty, sitting there in the half-light, the white-blonde hair gleaming and mussed from my hands, her lips puffy from all the oral work, and slick with my juice. Her dress was still half-off, the full ripe breasts spilling out over the disheveled pink lace of her bra cups. She tugged my hands.

"Been wanting to do that since I first saw you tonight," Bobbie said. "Now let's go downstairs where there's more room to play, O.K.?"

"Downstairs" proved to be a fully-finished basement, fitted out during the 70's but updated recently.

"This your section of the house?" I asked.

"Nah, my room's upstairs. Down here is the play area..." She pushed open one door and flicked on a lightswitch. "This we use as the guest room, or...the play room, for the very lucky guests." She swatted my ass as I went in. It was cute and comfy, done in a kind of funky boho thing with shades of purple, orange, and pink, lots of cushions and pillows everywhere, and a large low futon with an impossibly-cushy-looking mattress made up in white and hot pink. Two walls -- one at the head of the bed one on the side -- held large mirrors, positioned on the wall so they were level with the futon. The lightswitch controlled two pink-shaded lamps on a bedside table and a chest of drawers; the low pinkish lighting made the room even cozier and sexier. I wondered what the chest of drawers held, because I had a feeling it wasn't clothes.

"Music?" Bobbie picked up a remote, hit a couple of buttons, and '50s-era mambo danced out of small speakers. "Maybe a little too fast. What do you think?"

I started dancing in response. I dance well, even when I'm hamming it up. She watched my hips sway and raised her eyebrows. "Sweet. I'm leaving it right there, then." She grasped my hips as I danced and moved with me, our bodies moving into a tight embrace as we danced. I swiveled my hips against her, certain I could feel the heat of her pussy through our clothing as our mouths met. Still moving to the music, I worked the zipper of her dress the rest of the way down, letting the green satin slide like water to puddle on the floor.

Along with the pink lace bra, she was also wearing a matching pink lace waist-cincher, and tiny frill-edged pink panties. That, and the black suede pumps. Nothing else, but the sumptuous expanse of fair juicy flesh, pink lace, and golden hair -- all wrapped up in the scent of jasmine, vanilla, and aroused woman -- was positively rapturous. "Oh, yum," I thought. I might have said it out loud.

I lifted a breast again to my mouth, sucking hard, while she slid my zipper down and worked on untying the halter straps of my dress. It too fell to the floor.

"Let me look at you, baby," she murmured. I stood facing her. "Ohh, my, you're hot." I was really glad I'd worn the good underwear tonight -- an eyelet-lace white strapless bra and matching panties. I kicked off my flats while she unhooked my bra.

"Beautiful. Just beautiful," she said. "You have the most perfect tits." I have to admit they're not bad at all, really; they've got a nice shape and are fairly big. I caught our reflection in one of the mirrors, while her lips enveloped one of my nipples. We looked good together: I was shorter, smaller, and more muscular, with dark hair and pale olive skin, but we were both curvy, and with the light lacy panties we still both wore, our differences made the tableau -- her blonde head barely moving as she sucked and nibbled, my hand wandering down the curve of her back to stroke her full round ass -- all the more arousing.

She traced down my belly to slide a hand over my pussy. "Oh yeah....you're wet."

"Of course," I answered in the same light tone. "You just ate me good." I did the same to her, letting my fingers explore the delicious rounded curves of her breasts, the rough texture of the lace cincher, the soft roundness of her lower belly leading me down to the silky damp panties. I gently pulled my breast from her mouth and rubbed her cunt a little harder, kneeling slightly. "My turn," I said, slipping them off over the round soft ass. The scent of her cunt -- sweet and tart, musky and floral -- filled my nose and I licked my lips in anticipation as I knelt, parting her slick shell-pink folds with my fingers to reveal the darker pink inside. I made a few exploratory teasing licks at the inner labia, eliciting a happy "Ooo!" from her. I pushed the lips apart with my tongue, savoring the juices while sliding my tongue into the tight seam of her opening. "Mmm..." she said, her hand on my head. I tonguefucked her, poking my long tongue in and out of her pussy, loving the thick juices and the way her muscles pulled at my tongue, inviting it deeper. She was thrusting her hips gently, almost in time with the music.

"My clit..." she gasped. "Lick my clit." Well, who was I to say no? Her poor button had been ignored for too long, so I flicked at it with my tongue's tip, then took it between my lips and sucked gently. I switched back to lapping at it rhythmically, using both the tip and the flat of my tongue, while she kept up the pumping of her hips. I wanted to feel her even more, so I slipped a finger into the soft slippery hole. She was so juicy her pussy made slurping sounds as I fingerbanged her.

"Unnnh...unnh...ohh fuck, yeah..." Her fingers dug deeper into my hair as she pumped harder. "Right there, yeah...keep doing that...ohhhh...oh yeah, lick me baby...I'm gonna...ohhhhh..." She gasped as she came; I felt her pussy clamping hard around my finger with each contraction, the juices running down and coating my finger and tongue.

She gasped and shuddered as she slowed her hips' movement and released her grasp on me. I licked all the juices from the soft skin of her pussy, cleaning her girl-come up with my tongue, sucking the stickiness from my fingers.

"Fantastic, Lula."

"Mmm," I agreed. "You are delicious." I was going to ask what she wanted to do next, but she was already working on it, rummaging in the chest of drawers.

"Get on the bed on all fours, would you? I want to look at you from behind." I was happy to do that, sticking my bottom out toward her teasingly.

She stopped rummaging. "All right! That's nice," She said, rubbing a hand along my ass. She used her fingers to push the cheeks apart a little; the warm wet tongue on my anus made me jump a little, but she just kissed it and moved her fingers lower to part my pussy lips and give me a rapid, hard, juicy tonguefucking. I moaned when she slipped her tongue out.

"You're very wet still, but I'm going to use a little lube anyway, OK, baby?" I heard a jingle, and turned my head slightly to see her adjusting the straps on a harness. The dildo poking out of it was maybe eight inches, not too thick, and a frosty translucent blue, encased in a condom. But it wasn't cock-shaped; it was rippled into a series of ball-like shapes down the length of it. She poured lube into her hand and rubbed it along the length of the dildo. "This is OK, hon?"