Lesbian, hole play, tribbing, effusive climaxes
Lust flared at first sight. The chemical body hit surged through me, starting from my ogling locked eyes, informing my brain—God, that is one hot bod!
Science states that —a fifth of a second is all it takes for the craving to instil itself.
I don't know if it was her hair, a cute blonde ponytail, her sharp facial features, her eyes looking straight back into my desire with their own —great tits —toned, worked-out body.
I only knew I wanted to rip mine and their clothes off.
Why aren't we naked already — circulated in my head?
Along with — How come I haven't seen you at one of Joel's regular hot parties?
Raunchy, needy desire dominated, but the cognition, the mental unbearable yearning to smoulder sex-filled bodies together — the response was twofold —as was the saturated intolerable craving.
There had to be touch.
Oh, nothing polite or introductory.
The feel-up would be feral.
Wild rapacious fingering.
Base groping.
An exploration of whole bodies but with an immediate beeline for the most private and rewarding intimate features of each other's being.
It was strange because my guy was here somewhere, drinking! Probably her's, too!
However, I was like a giddy schoolgirl. The anticipation was unbearable.
The dimension of sure reward was mine in mere seconds of lustful eye contact across a crowded party room.
I luxuriated in the sweeping tingle of being mentally undressed by her eyes as I reciprocated.
Wow! We mentally had it off like a dressed-undressed rehearsal.
The visceral gut instinct was there. No need for pointless introductions. No need for casual small talk. No rituals of body language were required.
Eyes speak the language of shucking clothes faster than a pole dancer swivels and spreads alluring butt cheeks.
Ah, the stranger.
Oh, the supposed danger.
The real menace was not following my aching impulse.
I would forever castigate myself if I didn't eat this woman across the room.
Feast my senses on her absolute need to be with my body.
Lust intensified — a body soaked into me through my eyes.
My breathing quickened, and my pussy had the tingle, the quiver, and the palpitations of wetness building immediately after our eyes penetrated each other.
We needed complete mutual infiltration of erogenous zones —post-haste.
We knew where we were going to hook up.
The blonde was already up a few stairs.
I was moving through dancing tight bodies. I was only focused on the lithe, sexy organism moving away from me.
There was a naughty touch of a hand on my butt, but I ignored the deft pat, pat.
I felt like a vixen chasing a deer.
My quarry moved towards the upstairs landing.
My mind was on a high, and no male could distract me from this beckoning feminine charm, which I was magnetically attracted to.
I was at the foot of the stairs.
I received a wicked, devastatingly complete sexual come-hither glance whipped back over her shoulder.
Her ponytail flounced around, her butt delicately wobbling under her shimmering tight fitting red party dress.
I wanted to scoop and mould handfuls of that arse. To bury my head between those shapely butt cheeks. I craved my tongue, teasing her arse crack till she moaned in complete abandoned, smutty delight.
A heaving pang of utter momentary loss hit my chest as she entered a door.
Out of my sight — but not out of my filthy mind.
It was the bathroom. The door was left ajar. I went through it speedily, shutting it firmly behind me with a forceful push. I only looked forward.
Oh, the provocative blonde minx, her hands were around my face, her tongue in my mouth, but her leg was pressing into my crotch between my open thighs.
My hands peeled her dress from her shoulders.
Her tits popped over her bra cups. Beautiful, stunning, shapely melons, scoops of soft flesh, pliant and wobbly, jiggling and joggling, and her nipples so impertinently taut.
Demanding my fingers tweak them with no remorse until she released a satisfied yelp.
"Ahh!"
You know how you are going to proceed.
There are the obvious targets on her body, but your steps are strangely not choreographed.
An instinctual exploration of flesh and orifices dominates both of you. There are no shame lines to negotiate, no bodily embarrassment here—one intent, one purpose, one goal, to be naked, sexy and accessing all areas.
The sensational inspiration for fast-forward lust was our naked bodies, only minutes ago, entirely covered in a party scene.
Now naked close flesh fires the mind, motivates roving hands, and — makes eyes take in everything in close-up detail.
Together, we lick, we smell, we press together.
We appreciate the murmurs of satisfaction from our efforts and realise the sounds are mixed back through our ears and minds with our quickly released groans of pleasure.
"Nnghh! Ugh!" from the slattern.
"Uaah! Ah uh!" from me.
On the surface, it was so uncomplicated. Still, the euphoric dynamics are within as it unfolds exponentially in aroused pleasure and its culminating release.
We are fixated on each other, entrapped by body needs. We had to explore one another. We knew we would bring out the heat in each other.
She knew the art of finger fucking. Her digits were drenched in her spit. The slow hooking index finger. Then her middle finger joined a party inside my pussy.
Back and forth.
Yum! Yum! Yum!
Expressed as, "Mmm, mmm, mmm."
It was an unexplained together factor, a complete synergy of raunchy playful fun unpinned by intense manic selfish desire multiplied through two minds, pleasure crafting purely for pleasure's sake.
Anything and everything to reach our orgasm and give a motherfucker of a climax to another.
I paid her efforts back in full using the devastating sensual finger rake. Her inner walls scrapped and rasped, creating the pleasure, panging twinge like dripping candle wax on a belly.
"Ooh, ah! Ah! But don't stop that clawing in my cunt! Ooh, ah! Ah!"
To hear a female use the C word for herself upped the ante.
We can do no more in life than amplify the pleasure in another to the max — wonderful togetherness.
We were suddenly consummated as two beautiful girly bodies should be.
I turned her around, bending her body over the water basin. Her arse cheeks in my face, her thin black G-string — so pretty — in its promise as it disappeared between her thighs, momentarily covering both her sought cracks.
I slowly drew her panties down.
Approval was a coo, "Mmm, mmm, mmm!"
Her arsehole was mine. She gave her swaying buttocks.
My tongue blades her patootie ring as slick as the runner of a skating boot glissades across freshly smoothed ice.
Her glittering chrysanthemum beckoned beyond any taboo.
Her cored apple was mine to lap. So sweet. So divine.
Her mussy tushie was delicious as I slosh my spit into her runnel rills.
My tongue invaded into her puckered knot. Her body pressed back into my tongue.
Mutual pleasure instantly.
I lick and prod and spit and gape and frenzy lick till she is a writhing mass of craving body for new dirty delights.
God, my tongue work is good. I'm enjoying myself.
The beginning of the real party.
I bend her farther over the basin…her hands gripping hard to avoid lurching forward, too far from my fingers and tongue. She can barely control her body squirm.
Contorted deep groans fill the small room, reverberating the touch of my fingers on her pussy lips, her flappy sex slightly quivering under my persistent finger patronage.
"Ugh! Ugh!"
My digits tease her lips, and my index and middle fingers draw out her internal wetness and smear it over her clitty. Boy, does that get the moans flowing from my partner in lust.
My tongue has to taste her clitty.
Aha, my mind demands it.
My body craves it.
Ooh, my sensitive pink tip pinpoints her dot of sexual power.
It's a hot-blooded combination.
I flick harder as she moans louder.
"Orrgh! Orrgh!"
Of course, I get a finger in her anxious arsehole. I couldn't deny her that double pleasure or myself the added filthy delight.
We are shameless whores on a one-way mission — communal orgasms.
My stabbing tongue is near numb with its strenuous, repeated, blissful effort. My fingers get to work on her pussy and engorged love bud.
Her clit was so sensitive.
Any touch drives her beyond untamed. She enters the feral sexual stage.
Her body was a predator of need, and — my fingers were marauders of urgent self-indulgence.
She cums effusively.
No fake bedroom climax.
"Hngh! Fugh! Fugh! Aaahhh!"
It's real. It's heightening of self. It's all as it should be.
Boy, does she show intent on reciprocation?
She urges me onto the basin bench.
I need no urging. I'm there faster than a slut gulps her morning-after pill with her breakfast orange juice as her mother unexpectedly enters the kitchen.
I anticipate what's coming for my pussy.
Well, I think I do.
We create the thought of the outcome in the instance before it starts based on previous sexual encounters.
But this is beyond hot. Her approach to me is near slavish. She seeks to please. But equally, she is dominating.
She will deliver.
She wants my pussy.
I want her to want my pussy. It's the most potent combination.
Want sought. Want acknowledged. Want sexually defined.
She burrows in between my thighs. My shaved slit was already over-moist from my happiness at licking her out.
She sucks and plays and shapes my coochie with her whole mouth and expert tongue.
God, she is good. A natural pussy licker. She was probably a frickin regular in the zone, but it's — my pussy — getting her flair and flamboyant touch.
Oh fuck it feels good.
"Ooh! Yes! Right there! Ooh! Yes! Ooh! Ooh!"
I hit — self pussylicious.
I hold handfuls of her hair and grab her ponytail as she pushes her tongue into my arse crack.
But I can't sustain looking down at her talented work. I lean backward towards the full-wall mirror.
Her tongue and her face chase my pussy. There is to be no rest for my privates. I don't want a moment's separation.
I would literally die if I were denied my climax.
Suddenly, her thumbs stretched my starfish. Her tongue sloshed from my puckered girly hidey-hole, over my aroused perineum, delving into my wet pussy and smashing into my erect clitty.
My peaking was insistently close. I had that moment just before it flooded through me.
The sweetest of mini seconds when indescribable bodily pleasure is injected through your entire skin.
I anticipate.
I'm ready.
It comes.
I cum.
Nothing had prepared me for the awesomeness of my response. I'm excited—yes, very excited—and my body rewards my state of excitement. My body likes this scene. It is like the giver. It likes the mood. I want my body's gift to me.
"Oh fuck yeah…Orrgh…Ahhh…Ahhh," as I collapse forward over her face —digging my fingers into her shoulders.
I bear down on her as she fills me up.
My body lifts through itself.
Oh shit…I feel great…so fuckin great.
Surely, that is it. We could ask no more. To seek more would risk disappointment and take less from our incredibly speedy encounter.
It was held now memorable—two pleasured bodies.
But the blonde was insatiable—a practitioner of exquisite continued layered excitement.
A blonde sex-machine.
She urged me to spread my legs, and she nested her fleshy pussy right into mine.
I had never tribbed before but moved instinctually into the fleshy, sticky, unique pairing of girly bits colluding in pleasure. She pressed into my clitty, and I got one of my legs around her hip.
Our bodies, though, only truly joined at our genitals.
Mushy and terrifically sensitive already, they launched into a new fulfilment seeking. The pleasure gradient swept through us both incredibly fast. The grinding was delicious.
Pappy, tacky, crinkled flesh spreading, defined as mutual labial kisses. Our fem- lips pashed, canoodled, scrunched and curled.
Bunting, bunting — paired gummy, syrupy, treacly — vertical petals.
A quintessential girl experience.
My fulsome lips were so generous in their dispensed happiness.
My pussy was taking itself, my body, my mind, and my life to a new plateau of experience and orgasm saturation.
To make another girl cum is one beautiful experience.
To let a girl make you cum is rapture for self and her.
Yet, to cum together — tribbing — so wondrously intense.
"Ah- aahhh!"
"Nnghh-Ah!"
Synchro climaxes while tribbing —remarkable.
As for the colossal spasms of gratification —the double arching upward, mutual moany tingles of sparking internal pyrotechnic pleasure…indescribable actually…but life held in actuality.
To describe it — simply abso-fucking- lutely miraculous.
So hot together, the mirror steamed behind us.
We both knew it was a current summit of sex—our personal sexual Kilimanjaro. Well, I'm not discounting ever getting Everest.
We kissed and fondled, clasping each other's bras.
We flicked each other's knickers before our dresses were back on.
Yes, there was a party downstairs.
But we had had our party?
We kissed deeply.
Who knew if we would party again together?
However, in the sweet, satisfied moment, it didn't matter. We had had it all.
I needed to pee.
She left me in private.
With my thoughts. With my body. With my life.
Where to next?
It's always that — the subsequent encounter.
God, my boyfriend was getting my arse tonight.
He didn't know it yet and would never know where the desire emerged.