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The Frigging Forties, Two

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To read part one of this story, click here!
To bring yourself up to speed, and to spare me having to capsulize what I have already written, scroll up several items to something called The Frigging Forties, which tells you all you need to know. You will find me sitting on the couch, happily masturbating alongside a woman friend, Melissa, enjoying the touch of my fingers on my pussy, loving the sight of her hand going up and down her groin. We kept at it to climax, which came essentially simultaneously, me first by a few seconds, followed by Melissa's gasps and moans.
When I masturbate to orgasm, I like to clamp my thighs tightly around my hand, as if clutching it tightly to my cunt, and to squeeze so that I derive maximum pleasure. This I did with Melissa, and noted that she did things a bit different: spreading her legs even wider, and managing to put part of four fingers into her cleft as she made happy sounds. No matter: we both "came," and we both enjoyed it. And we both kept our hands on our pussies during the "come down" period, laughing and smiling at what we had done together.
And, without a word, we slid across the couch until we were sitting shoulder to shoulder, bare flesh touching. I put an arm over Melissa's shoulders, and she responded by cuddling close to me, and letting one of her hands drop down to my lap. I could feel the back of her hand rubbing gently against my mons, and I parted my legs slightly, as if inviting her to play further. She was content to rub, and she turned so that one of her naked breasts rubbed against my bare chest.
Who could resist? I offered my mouth, she took it, we kissed, deeply, tongues darting to and fro, hands now all over respective naked bodies -- breasts, face, tummy, legs, and yes, pussies. She was the first to penetrate my cunt, sliding the middle finger of her right hand expertly up into my cleft, finding a passage so moist and welcoming that the full length came to rest inside me. I moved my hand down to reciprocate. No, no, she said, pushing it away, let me play with your pussy all by myself, I want to bring you off while you just lie back and enjoy it.
So sweet, so tender, so gentle -- a rather longish finger, and a strong one, deep inside my body, the flat of her hand teasing my clittie and labia as it moved in and out. Motions of her hands suggested that I get into her lap, one leg cocked up so that her access to my cunt would be easier. Our mouths locked again in a kiss, and I began having a series of mini-orgasms, one after the other, so close that it seemed like a "perpetual come."
Dear Melissa kept me in a state of joy for perhaps half an hour. How many individual orgasms? A count was impossible; what she gave me was incessant pleasure, until I had to gasp and say, "Darling darling darling, no more, I am exhausted!" Only then did she slide her finger out of my cunt, hold it before her lips, give it a long lick and smile and say, "You have a most tasty pussy, sweet Jessica."
I wanted hers now -- to bury my face in the cunt of the woman who had given me such joy. She permitted me to bestow a single lick on her haired mons before putting her hands on my cheeks and lifting my face away. (Her taste: salty sweet, and wickedly delicious. I found a pubic hair on my tongue when I came up. Ah, god, Melissa.)
"Slow, dear Jessica, slow, let's talk about what we are getting into before we go any further. Are you really ready for this -- all out sex with another woman, and one you barely know?"
Her hesitation, frankly, brought me up short. Our shared masturbation, and then her frigging of my pussy, were acts that I had taken for foreplay. And, despite my satiation for the moment, I was certainly ready to find the energy to continue -- and specifically, to give her the same intense orgasms which I had experienced. I leaned over and licked the crook of her neck and her ear and her cheek and whispered, "I'd love to eat your pussy, I am obsessed with you, let me do it to you, now, my darling."
She kissed me, she fondled my breasts once again, and she looked at me with a bemused smile and I took one of my breasts and rubbed nipples together. "Go ahead," Melissa said, "play with my pussy,. show me happiness, but fingers only dear, make me come."
Oh, what an intricate organ is the pussy -- soaking wet, juices matting her pussy hair, labia swollen, and yet the crevice tight as a crack to my probing fingers. So I did her the way I do myself: long up and down strokes with the tip of a finger, feeling her labia loosening for me, her hand reaching down to guide me to the "just right" angle and then inside I go, one finger quickly becoming four inside her snatch. Emboldened, I put my other hand at her groin and reached way behind her to tease her anus. She liked the touch, she wiggled "no thanks" when I tried to push a finger inside her ass. (By means of background, when I am fucking my husband Mac, he loves to have me slide a finger into his ass just before he shoots off, and he takes me anally perhaps once weekly, with his cock.) Such was not what Melissa wanted, however.
But she did want my fingers -- her body going absolutely wild as I fingered her cunt, tensing to my movements, wiggling furiously, her pubis thrusting upwards, as if trying to take my entire arm into her cleft. And her final orgasm was a long moan of primitive relief. Whew. Just hearing her made me climax again.
And the sweetest part. Falling into one another arms for another kiss, a long hold, gentle touches, Melissa's hands stroking my buttocks, cupping each in turn, lips finding and teasing my nipples. We even drowsed a bit. I thought, "I want this woman, I want more of her, I am going to have her."
A reality intervention. The phone. I let it ring, only to hear husband Mac's voice over the answering machine. He had finished his meetings for the day, he was going back to his hotel and then out to dinner with colleagues, he just wished to say hi and I love you. I picked up and told him that I was just finishing a cat nap -- a small lie, but a lie nonetheless -- and we chatted a few minutes and he said, "I love you, babe," and I said it back to him and we rang off.
Melissa was stirring around and finding clothes, and she paused to hug me again. "Do you want there to be a next time?" she asked.
My hand cupped her cunt. "Yes," I said, "and next time, I want this." She kissed my cheek. "Then, darling Jessica, that you shall have." And she was dressed and away, leaving me exhausted and happy -- and just a little terrified at what I had done.



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