Popsicle Girl Ch. 04byCre8tiveBliss©
Heather was an eager learner. Her appetite for sex was insatiable. Although I was supposed to be her “teacher,” I think I learned more from her than she did from me. I know I learned more about love from her than anyone I had ever known. Heather gave freely, asking nothing in return. She was never afraid to experiment, and there seemed to be nothing sexual that she didn’t like. Sometimes she was the aggressor, sometimes I was. Hardly ever was our sex life planned; more often than not it was spontaneous and wonderful. Although I am basically a morning person, if you get my drift, she had to ability to perk me up any time of day or night.
Because we had most of the next day to sit around and relax, we soon discovered that Saturday nights were perfect for our longer forays into making love. Most often we enjoyed a romantic, candle-lit dinner at home before getting into the serious stuff. A glass or two of Forest Glenn Merlot seemed to put a perfect glow into our libidos. On nights like this, she was not the normal, chatty person she was most of the time. In fact, her quiet solitude contrasted beautifully with the “other” Heather. Perhaps it was the sweet anticipation of what would soon be happening. Perhaps it was the deep love we felt for each other when we had time to relax and have a romantic time together, just the two us.
Despite not leaving the confines of our rented house, we usually dressed more than casually for our Saturday festivities. If fact, it was common for us to dress in separate bedrooms and surprise each other with our respective outfits. It almost felt like we were going on a date, and Heather had a way of making each “date” feel like it was our first one. We didn’t try to dress too sexily, just enough to give the evening a more than casual atmosphere. We were against going out for a romantic evening of dinner and dancing, but being alone together, just the two of us, was always sweet.
It was summertime in the Rockies. That usually meant a nice day of sunshine followed by an evening thunderstorm. The beautiful part of it was that we had a delightful view of the western mountains from the window in the dining room. Storms usually came over the mountain in an array of glowing lightning bolts and loud claps of thunder. As the storms moved eastward, they seemed to gather momentum once they were free of the high terrain and explode upon us before we knew it. We loved watching the approaching storms.
We had just begun dinner when noticed a storm gathering over Pikes Peak. It was hard to judge a thunder storm’s direction. Sometimes the storms would hug the foothills and never move further eastward, making the area far more green than the eastern plains. Sometimes they would veer north or south and miss us completely, giving us only a thunder and lightning show without torrential downpours of rain. No matter which way a storm went, we were always in awe of nature’s strength and beauty. And there was always the calm after the storm that brought a quietly romantic solitude.
Scary novels often use thunder storms as a backdrop for fear. Maybe the storms have their frightening moments, but as for Heather and me, we found them to be very romantic. There is something soothing about the sound of rain on a roof or against a window. We sometimes held each other under our blankets and just listened quietly to the pitter-patter of rain drops, knowing that when the rain ended we would be making thunder and lightning of our own.
As the storm clouds gathered to the west, we sat at the dinner table. I looked at Heather and smiled. I couldn’t imagine anyone being more beautiful. She was wearing a tight-fitting, canary-yellow, short-sleeved dress with a thin, black leather belt. Although the dress had a “V” cut at the bodice, it was, unfortunately, too form-fitting to reveal any cleavage, but it did hug her breasts quite nicely. The deep yellow of the dress contrasted beautifully with her red hair. Her deep blue eyes glistened brightly in the candlelight. The atmosphere was perfect.
I had chosen a white, cotton, button-down blouse, also short-sleeved, and a tight black skirt hemmed just above the knees. The blouse was not exactly sheer, but provided a sexy outline of my lacy-white bra through the thin material. The bra was the only undergarment I wore. I felt really sexy, sitting next to Heather, knowing that under my skirt was nothing but me, and it was all for her. I found that the longer I stayed with Heather, the less I needed panties. Panties were always in the way anyways. Why should I mind that she had quicker, unrestricted access to my goodies?
It was her turn to cook. Prime ribs. Sweet potatoes. Asparagus. Red wine. Our knees touched from time to time as we slowly ate our meal and chatted about a thousand things. Girl talk. Lots of it. Sounds of a soft guitar played sweetly on the stereo. We seldom had desert, but who needed it when there was some delicious after-dinner, extremely low calorie, eating pleasure between both of our legs?
“Care for another glass of wine, babe,” I said, already holding the bottle over her empty, long-stemmed glass.
She smiled. Her eyes were already slightly glassy, making them look even more sparkling and bright in the soft candle light. “Just half a glass,” she replied. “Or I might think you are trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me. I hope you are not thinking wicked thoughts, young lady.”
“Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker,” I quipped as I poured the wine. I was already feeling a little giddy from the two glasses I had already consumed and I needed Heather to catch up with me.
She picked up the freshly poured wine and took a sip. A crack of thunder over the top of the house was soon followed by the sound of rain splashing against the window pane. The storm had finally reached us. I placed the bottle down, reached over, and placed my hand on top of Heather’s, squeezing softly. Even in the glow of the candles I could tell she was blushing.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” I whispered.
“And you do, too.”
She smelled better than summer roses. “Mmmm, what’s the perfume?” I asked.
“White Diamonds,” she replied. “I just bought some today.”
I brought her hand to my face and smelled her wrist, where she had obviously dabbed some of the perfume. “I like. Very sweet smelling.” I kissed her fingertips as she circled my lips with her index finger.
“I want you so badly, Beth. I have never needed anyone as much as I need you. You have brought something into my life that I had never even dreamed of. Now I wouldn’t trade it away for all the money in the world.”
“You say the nicest things,” I whispered, looking deeply into her soft, blue eyes.
“Only because you are the nicest thing,” she said. “It’s so easy to love you. Thank you for coming into my life.”
Still holding her fingers close to my lips, I moved my other hand to Heather’s downy-soft bright red hair and ran my fingers through it, brushing it away from her ear, exposing a diamond earring that sparkled like her eyes in the candle light. Moving to her face, I caressed her cheek with my fingertips, then ran my index finger over her eyebrow. I loved to touch her and I did so whenever the opportunity arose.
Heather smiled. “If I didn’t know any better, young lady, I would think you are trying to have your way with me.”
“Oh, should I ask first?” I quipped.
“I think you just did,” she whispered as she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and kissed me.
Heather’s kisses always started slowly, then quietly built into unbridled passion. Her lips were unbelievably soft and pliable, tasting of the wine she had just sipped. Her hand went behind my head and pulled me deeper into the kiss. It was never a real kiss until I felt her tongue. She jutted her tongue into my mouth quickly, two or three times in quick succession, teasing me. She ran the tip of her tongue over my teeth before she drove it all deeply into me. I sucked it in even deeper. The kiss lasted for several delightful moments. She was already stirring the pot between my legs.
I explored her eyes with mine. She was truly beautiful. “Would you like to go the bedroom?” I asked.
“I thought you would never ask,” she replied with a sexy wink.
I arose and took her hand in mine. Hand-in-hand, we walked to the bedroom, each of us deep in our own thoughts and anticipations. We stopped in front of the full-length mirror, Heather standing in front of me, facing the mirror. Her legs looked gorgeous in the yellow dress. Suddenly I had an idea.
“Don’t do anything but look in the mirror,” I said. “Keep your arms at your side. And don’t say a word.”
As Heather looked at her own reflection, I moved closer to her, my breasts pressing hard into her back. I looked into the mirror as well, watching my hands move to her waist and hold her tightly. I moved my hands up and down the front of her dress, often nearing but always stopping just below her breasts or above her pubis. Her tummy was flat and firm. Her exercise classes had done wonders for her body. She swayed back into me and smiled.
“Like what you see in the mirror?” I asked in a soft, breathy whisper that fell on the soft red hair covering her ear.
“I love it!” she cooed.
The mirror was doing wonders for my own voyeuristic tendencies. I felt like I was watching a pornographic movie, with me and Heather its only stars. I watched our reflection as I finally brought both of my hands just under her breasts. When I finally cupped them over the bodice, she sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and smiling softly.
I noticed her closed eyes. “Hey, girl, keep looking!” I insisted. “You are going to miss a great show.”
She opened her eyes just in time to see my hands press inward over her breasts, grasping the goodies beneath the thin cotton of the bodice. She moaned as I squeezed her breasts. I pressed my lower abdomen against her perfectly rounded ass while I watched and toyed with her tits to my heart’s content.
“Beth, that feels so good!” she said in a thick, lust-filled voice.
If the receiving felt nearly as good as the giving, Heather would be in the same heaven I was in. Her breasts were not big, but they were just big enough for my hands to cover completely. Her bra was slightly padded, precluding me from feeling her nipples that I was sure by now had risen steadily. Her breasts, like mine, were very sensitive. Sometimes I would “accidentally” brush against them with my arm and she would soon become putty in my hands.
I moved my hands lower, pressing against Heather’s body the whole way, until they came to rest on her dress-covered thighs. The edge of my thumbs pressed lightly into her groin, oh so close to her sex. I pressed the material of the dress tightly, forcing the pubic bone to jut out against the cotton. I moved my thumbs over the mound and pressed inward from two sides. I could feel the hairs of her pussy through the covering layers of clothes.
Using my fingers, I started to pull the skirt higher, slowly revealing, inch by sweet inch, her pantyhose covered legs. I looked at her face in the reflection of the mirror; her eyes were following my every movement. She had absolutely gorgeous legs, looking tanned and sleek in the light-brown mesh of the pantyhose. As the skirt moved higher, just above mid-thigh, the mesh turned into a darker and far more opaque shade of brown. Looking over her shoulder into the mirror, I watched the skirt move all the way up her body until it bunched around her waist. Through the dark mesh of the pantyhose I saw the distinct outline of white panties. With her skirt raised as high as it could go, I liked what I saw.
Heather moved her hands back until her palms pressed hard against my thighs. She kneaded the flesh over my skirt. I reached under her completely raised skirt and eased my thumbs into the elasticity of the waistband of the pantyhose. Her eyes widened as she looked into the mirror and saw the hose being slowly lowered to uncover the shiny silkiness of her undergarment. The almost alabaster skin of her thighs contrasted nicely with the dark brown mesh that was now slowly making its way down her legs. She lifted one leg up at a time to allow me to draw the hose completely off of her legs. In the process of taking her pantyhose off, her dress had fallen slightly, but I quickly raised it higher to bring back the reflection of her sexy white panties.
“You look so sexy like that,” I husked. “But your underwear is in the way of something I really want to see.”
She blushed, then bit her lower lip nervously. She cocked her head back slightly, still looking at the mirror reflecting our bodies and our growing love. Her hands continued to toy with my legs, making sweet music. Her fingertips were as soft as butterfly wings on my bare thighs, sending shivers all over my body.
“Wanna see Heather’s pussy in the mirror?” I asked teasingly.
She smiled. “Not as much as you do.”
We both looked into the mirror once more. I moved the silky material of the panties slowly downward. I held the garment in place, just as the first glimpse of light-red pubic hairs came into view at the elastic panty top. The scene was unbelievably erotic. It was almost surreal. The pretty, light-red pussy hairs peeked invitingly over the top of the white panties. I was teasing myself with this little show, and I loved every moment of it. I slowly pushed the material lower, finally revealing more and more of Heather’s forest of beautiful curls. When we had first met, she was shaved completely. I had talked her into letting the hair grow, and I was glad I did. It was a bush made for the ages, one made to be adored.
Using my left hand, I held the front of the panties in place at the top of her thighs as I ran the fingers of my free hand through the wonderfully soft down of the triangular forest. She closed her eyes once more, reveling in the feeling of my fingers moving through the outer boundaries of her pussy. I allowed my middle finger to come close to, but never quite touch the already slightly engorged clit that peeked invitingly out of Heather’s slit through the sea of curls. The look on her face told me that her clit was literally begging for relief.
I felt Heather’s hands pulling up my skirt, inching it higher and higher as it revealed more and more of my own bare legs. Her fingernails lightly scratched my thighs as the material rose slowly upward. Since I was standing behind her, her body covered most of what she was doing behind her back; the mirror captured only fleeting glimpses of her hands on my bare legs.
I eased Heather’s panties further down until, upon reaching mid-thigh, they fell silently, of their own accord, to the floor in the circle around her feet. She stepped out of the circle and turned around to face me, my skirt already well above my ass. She looked down at my partially naked body. Her eyes widened and she smiled. She moved her face toward mine. “You aren’t wearing any panties, you stinker,” she breathed into a passion-filled kiss.
“Panties only get in the way,” I whispered into her mouth. Her lips felt softer than they ever had.
When we finally broke the kiss, I looked into the mirror once more. This time the reflection revealed Heather’s absolutely beautiful backside. Like my skirt, her dress was pulled high enough to give me an unobstructed view of the perfectly rounded buns that had caught my attention even before we had formally met. I reached behind her and grasped the globes tightly, feeling the firm fleshiness beneath my fingers. She did the same to me and we stood like that, for several wonderful moments, playing with each other’s asses.
Still in awe of the beautiful reflection in the mirror, I moved my right hand to the back of Heather’s dress and drew the zipper down all the way to her waist. As the dress opened into a wide “V”, her delightfully freckled back came into view. I used my fingernails to scratch the skin, ever so lightly, from one side of her shoulder to the other. She swooned in my arms.
She leaned back far enough to allow me to pull the top of her dress down her arms. Her bra, like her panties, was made of a silky-like material with no lace or embroidery. Only a slight amount of cleavage showed. I reached in front of her body and undid the leather belt at her waist. Looking in the mirror, I watched the dress fall down, soft as a handkerchief, to the floor around her feet. Then, reaching behind her once more, I unhooked the back of the bra. The straps glided slowly down her arms. I pulled my head back and looked at Heather’s totally naked body. Her pink-tipped breasts were absolutely gorgeous. She allowed me to feast on the eye-candy for only a short time before she plastered her body against me and kissed me once more, long and hard, telling me without words how much she wanted me.
When the kiss finally ended, I whispered, “Dear Heather, I think I am over-dressed for this occasion.”
Heather laughed. “Not for long, sweetie.”
I stepped back, allowing her to unbutton the front of my blouse. Her eyes followed her hands as she moved from button to button. With the last button undone, and my blouse opened wide, she pulled the garment from my skirt and let if fall behind me. She soothed the sides of my skirt down my hips before unzipping me and pushing the skirt all the way down and off. I turned my back to her, giving her easy access to the bra clasp in the center of my back. She unclasped it and slid the straps over my shoulders. When she lightly kissed the nape of my neck, my whole body shivered.
I turned around and faced her once more, the both of us now totally naked. This time our embrace was warm and soft, skin to skin, breast to breast, belly to belly. Her soft pubic hairs pressed against my right thigh. We kissed until our lips became tired, rested for a brief moment, then kissed some more. Our tongues fought each other for territory inside our mouths. I don’t even remember how we did it, but the next thing I recalled was being next to her, on the bed, embracing once more, our legs tangled together, our bodies pressed tightly together.
Breaking the latest of our sweet kisses, I looked down at my sweet Heather and smiled. She smiled back and my heart melted on the spot. The love I felt for her was almost overpowering. To know her was to love her. It was a simple as that.
“I want to try something new tonight,” I whispered.
“Uh-oh,” she laughed, “why do I think I am about to get ravaged by you somehow? ”
“Maybe because you are right. But would that be so wrong?”
She laughed again. “Well, I have never complained before. You have made everything so wonderful. Each time we make love is like the first time. I could never get tired of you, Beth.”
“And you trust me, right?” I asked.
She looked at me quizzically. “Of course,” she replied.
“You’ll need trust for this next little session. Lots of it. But don’t worry. You will be on the receiving end the whole time. My pleasure will come in the giving.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said with a wry smile.
I arose from the bed, walked over to the closet, and pulled out a brown grocery bag filled with a variety of new “toys” I had purchased just for an occasion such as this one. I reached into the bag and pulled out a black blindfold. I moved slowly toward her, a sexy look on my face. She looked at me, wide-eyed, as I approached the bed with the blindfold dangling from my right hand.
“The blindfold is to make sure you can’t see what I am going to do, only feel it.” She gulped slightly as I drew the blindfold over her head and covered her eyes. ‘Be honest, no cheating, can you see anything?” I asked.
“It’s dark in here,” she giggled.
I moved back to the brown back and took out four pieces of nylon rope, each a little over two feet in length. I sauntered back to the bed, looking down at her delightfully naked flesh. Her legs were slightly parted, offering me a exceedingly pleasant view of her reddish, down-covered crotch.