Fantasy for Mara.

Had I known how frigid it would be in Ottawa, I would have worn more clothes. At least I was smart enough to wear jeans and a jacket and not the skirt and blouse I left in my travel bag. After a short taxi ride, I get to the quaint little coffee house she’d asked me to meet her at. We’d been talking for months online and finally a business conference landed me in her city. She was excited at the prospect to finally meet and cleared out her own schedule for our rendez-vous. I’m early, so I order a latte and sit down next to a heater in a corner to thaw. I thumb through the numerous pictures she had texted me. One was a daring pic of her doing a naked snow angel, my favorite. Mara’s toned pink body makes a great contrast in the virginal white snow, her mousy brown hair flayed out adding an even more alluring effect. The cleft of her bald pretty pussy had small darts of snow on it that looked as if like they were melting; enticing the viewer to discover on their own the heat of her love haven. Her delicious petite breasts displayed perfect hard nipples that could probably cut ice. Her pretty face, unobscured by make-up, flashed a smile that denoted innocence and seduction at the same time. I couldn’t wait to be with this woman, to taste her, feel her and to devour her. I was awaken from my daydream by a polite tap on my shoulder. " Petra?" asked a sweet little voice. I look up and there is my little angel beaming down at me. I smile and respond, "Hello Mara, ma cherie." I stand up and give her a full-on kiss on her delicate mouth. Taken aback at my forwardness she hesitates before inviting my tongue in her mouth. Her taste is delicious. She instinctively pushes up closer against me closing her arms around my waist as I cradle her face and head in my hands to kiss her more deeply. The first kiss is always the magic moment for me; the unsaid pact deciding whether or not lovers will be born. My connection between Mara has been sealed. I stop kissing her but we still hold each other in this tender embrace. I look into her eyes and see my own lust and needs mirrored in hers. The question of would we be together has been answered. But Mara asks anyway. " Petra, are you going to make love to me now?." she half whispers half moans. In her voice I hear a slight hint of fearfulness. Is it because she's afraid that she may not live up to unsaid expectations or is she afraid of abandoning her modest and controlled demeanor to a woman that knows no boundaries as myself. Maybe she is afraid that I will take her from her calm and safe little life and fill it with debauchery, lust and salaciousness. I respond calmly, "Yes, cherie, I intend to show you things and do things to you but they have nothing to do with love." Puzzled, she looks at me with wide eyes. "I think you'd be much happier if I didn't make love to you. Because, I intend to fuck you and you will love it. Is that understood?" She softly replies, "Yes." "Yes, what?" I ask. "Yes, mistress." With that I grab my purse and we leave the coffee house. She leads me to her flat in a nearby building. On the second floor, she opens the door and invites me into her charming, conservatively decorated little home. She puts our coats into the closet and invites me to sit on her couch. Before she has a chance to sit, I sternly command her to undress. Shocked, she starts to stutter a protest. Again, but more insistently I tell her to undress and warn her of the consequences if she disobeys. "Yes, mistress." is what I hear. In front of me, she takes off the turquoise cashmere sweater she had on. Next, she removes the brown leather calf-length boots then her tight designer jeans. Lastly, her wool socks. I admire her beautiful pink body for the first time in the flesh as she stands there in a red push-up bra and white silk panties. She is flush with shyness and tries to cover up as my long, lustful gaze makes her uncomfortable. I look at her and ask " Did I tell you to stop?" Again, a stutter emits from her lips and her face turns crimson with fear. "Come here!" "Yes, mistress" she says in a fright at the sound of my voice. I take her tenderly by the hand and ask "You want me to be happy?" "Yes, mistress, its just that this is so new and strange to me." "Well, first understand you must obey all my commands," I tell her as I position her body across my lap "And if you don't you will get punished. Do you understand?" "Yes mistress." she whimpers. With her now across my lap, I pull Mara's panties down off her butt and to her knees. I notice the crotch of the material is soaked and her puffy wet pussy lips betray her excitement. " Please don't mistress. I will be good, I promise." "Oh, cherie, I know you will. Trust me." Mara gasps loudly as she hears the loud clap and feels the sting of the first swat of my hand coming down hard against the soft plump flesh of her beautiful bottom. (To be continued).

Without so much as a knock, she enters my room. “You always leave your door open?” she asks with a sly grin. “Only when I know I’m about to get fucked really well.” I reply just as sly. “Ja, this is true. I am going to fuck you real good!” she says in her heavy Russian accent. With that she latches the door, puts down her purse and removes her short waist coat to reveal what it barely contained: her incredible sexy self all in black. Black lace peek-a-boo bra accentuating her perfect crème-colored breasts and dark nipples , tiny black lace thongs that seem more like decoration, black thigh highs that go for days on her beautiful, long legs and sleek black Patten leather 3” stilettos. As she lets the coat drop to the floor, she stands there, hands on her hips, to let me drink in the sight of her. The very definition of sex goddess or wet dream should have her picture. This statuesque woman stands well over 6’, has the face of a long curly black haired angel, full pouty red colored lips, a touch of sun kissed skin and the most well-proportioned breasts and ass I’d ever seen. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought a friend. He’s name is Billy” she giggles as I slide up to her then on tip-toe to give her a long and wet kiss that involves me groping her firm but yet soft breasts and butt. “I wasn’t up for a threesome, cherie. Are you trying to make me jealous?” I moan as she unties my robe to reveal my naked body. “Nyet, you will like Billy.” And with that she turns me around in front of her, kissing my neck, kneading a pierced nipple in one hand and teasing my clit with the other. After a while we end up on the bed of my little hotel room. Magda has me gasping and clutching the bed sheets as she toys with my orgasm. She is in between my legs, expertly licking, fingering, and sucking my pussy, lips and clit alternately bringing me to the brink of my pleasure then backing off. The intensity makes me want to scream. Before I know it, I’m literally begging Magda to finish me. This is when she decides to introduce me to Billy. She takes out a huge black strap-on from her purse. It is the first time I’ve ever seen one like it. It has the regular harness but two obscenely huge dildos in the front, one on top of the other to go in both holes of the “fuckee” then another curved one on the inside which I assumed went inside the “fucker.” As she removes her thong and steps into her contraption, my assumptions became reality when I hear her moan as she adjusts the inner dildo in her. She grabs a bottle of lube out of her purse and proceeds to slick “Billy” up until it ls glistening. As she strides back to me, all I could think was she looks like some modern version of a fertility goddess except with two big dicks instead of one. If Magda hadn’t made me so horny I probably would have ran. She kisses me long and deep then positions me on all fours. One of the dildos goes in and fills my pussy up. It feels so good to have it in me, filling and stretching my little pussy. She pumps in me a few times ever the expert at holding back my pleasure. She stops and maneuvers a bit and starts to put the other dildo in my ass. I tense as I glance in the mirror on the headboard to witness our escapade and to watch Magda slowly double penetrating me. My ass is way up I’m laying my torso as flat as possible so she can fuck me good. The sensation is incredible. I can feel both cocks rubbing on each other and rubbing every wall in my pussy and ass. Magda starts slow, increasing her thrusts ever so slightly. I am just putty in her hands as her thrusts become more aggressive, more insistent. Out of nowhere I feel this pressure building in me and then suddenly I start to squirt, and squirt, and squirt… and I’m moaning loudly almost half screaming. Magda slaps my ass hard several times to add to the intense pleasure building up. Finally, she pulls my hair back and I come and I come and I come….In rapid succession I am coming repeatedly and uncontrollably as Magda bucks her two dicks hard in and out of my pussy and ass. I let out a scream after about the 6th or 7th one then Magda finally lets go of my hair slumping on top of me, twitching from the intensity of her own orgasm. We fall asleep like this until late. Fucked well.

When I was younger, I rode the Metro a lot to get around especially during the winter months when roads were always congested. For some strange reason, I always enjoyed being packed in the subway cars rubbing up against strangers. After a while, I was able to recognize some of the “regular” commuters. One of these "regulars" was a man who particularly caught and held my attention. It was an older gentleman, about 50 or so, who wore stylish European glasses, was well dressed, had a salt and pepper goatee and mustache, kind brown eyes, medium build and sexy lips. He looked old enough to be my dad. One morning I found myself sitting across from him. Although the train was crowded, I knew he would be able to catch glimpses of my tanned legs and if I positioned myself just right, maybe he could see the crotch of my panties. I opened my legs slightly when no one was standing directly in front of me and looked for his reaction. I caught him looking intently. The thought of letting this handsome man look at me made me wet. His stare made me want to do more right there. Unfortunately, the train filled again but I stayed there legs open the whole ride just in case. Two mornings later I decided to be bolder. I got on the train and sat almost in the same spot and there he was across from me again. He glanced up from a file of papers he was reading and gave me a weak smile. I acted as if I didn’t know him and didn’t smile back (little did he know that his smile made my pussy do a flip). I pretended to be doing a crossword or something in a magazine and crossed my legs like a guy to make them like a desk. I knew full well that with my legs in this position that everyone across from me could see up my skirt easily, especially my intended. I peeked up and saw him glancing between my legs; the shock on his face was priceless. I had removed my panties earlier in the Metro station … He was looking at my bald little pussy: puffy, slightly opened lips and dripping with excitement. His stare made me lift my top knee higher to me so I could “write” my crossword answer, fully aware that this action afforded him a better view. I saw him squirm a little in his seat. The chilly air in the train did nothing to quench the heat between my legs. I thought I saw a bump in his crouch that he tried to contain with the file folder. That’s when I looked directly into his eyes and acted as if I were upset with his peeping and quickly closed my legs. His face went flush when he saw the disdain in my face. He fumbled with his file to compose himself. Once he resumed his reading again, I crossed my legs the same way just to mess with him. This time he was cautious not to stare but he peeked very often. This game only made me wetter. After a few mornings of this flash and peek game and after many long nights of rubbing my pussy to countless orgasms at the thought of this man, I decided to make a move. One morning instead of sitting, I stood right in front of him, the packed train made my actions and intentions less obvious. My heart fluttered just thinking about my pussy being just inches from his face and obstructed only by my skirt as I'd taken to the habit of removing my panties before every train ride now. I looked down as he sat and I could tell he was nervous in my presence, not attempting any eye contact at all. I wondered if he could smell or see my pussy juices dripping down my leg? Would I be lucky enough or for him to be so bold as to finger me under my skirt or better yet lift my skirt and suck my aching clit with those sexy lips of his? At one point he offered me his seat but quick thinking made me decline and instead I offered his seat to the old lady standing next to me. He replaced her at my side and I positioned myself very close facing him but not looking at him. I could sense he was uncomfortable but he made no attempt to step back or move to the side. His overcoat was slightly open and with the way I was positioned it was as if I was standing inside his overcoat with him. I could feel the heat of his body next to mine, making my nipples stiff and erect. I stood there with my left hand hanging on to the handrail, head turned to the side acting oblivious to him being there yet, I was fully aware of his breath quickening as I unzipped his pants with my right hand and pulled out his cock; the flaps of his overcoat offering us some concealment. He made no protest to stop me. His cock felt so good in my hand, the hot thickness growing larger with every stroke. I moved in closer, raised my skirt a little, tip-toed and closed my eyes as I rubbed his fleshy staff furiously across my swollen wet pussy. I didn’t know if it was the build-up, the anticipation or the excitement of doing this on a cramped train full of strangers because not too long after I had started I felt my hips involuntarily buck in convulsions at the start of my orgasm. I closed my eyes and bit my lip to contain my soft moaning as I rode the wave. I continued to rub the shaft of his dick on my wet pussy lips until soon he too exploded all over my thigh with thick, hot streams of come stifling his own low grunts of pleasure. I held him there until we both came off our own clouds. I let him go, smoothed down my skirt, walked away and out the door when the train stopped literally leaving him there with his dick in the wind.

As some of my friends know, I am an avid fitness fan. I started ballet at the age of five, football (soccer for you non-Europeans) soon after and Judo when I was ten. As I’ve grown, my taste has changed and I’ve added other disciplines. But,even though I don’t have time to commit to ballet as before, it still remains near and dear to me because of the following story.

Ever since seeing my very first ballet as a little girl, I had always dreamed of becoming a ballerina. My father says to this day, he had never encountered such determination in … My parents soon enrolled me into classes and I never missed a one. I heard words such as “talented,” “gifted” and “natural” being told to my parents so, they saved and enrolled me in a more selective and rigorous school. Seven years after my first lesson, I met Miss LaRoche. She was a thin, athletic,yet graceful brunette whose fragile, innocent features hid the power and beauty she expressed in dance. It also hid a darker side that I would find out far too soon. At her age of 27, she was already retired from the ballet circuit but declined to marry any rich benefactor as most ballerinas do . But, with her prestigious credentials she opened an exclusive ballet school. The day I met her was the day I was to interview for an open position. She ran me through my paces and I thought I did well. I thought she was very rude when she told my parents that I was too old and too fat (I was only twelve and a little thick in some places but not fat!) She did say however, that I showed great form and with some practice and discipline, I’d be fine ballerina. So, she took me on as a student.

Little did I know how much this unassuming petite woman would become the devil incarnate? She worked me to death 4 to 5 days a week and put me on a strict diet. For all the harsh words, the put downs and the constant drilling, she never was able to break my spirit or passion for dance, even when she warned me that she’d drop me if I got hurt in a football match or a judo tournament. I persevered for four long years until I became one of her best students.Then came the day she was offered a chance to teach in Russia.

I will always remember that last practice. She had me stay after all the other students were gone and we danced a duet. It felt amazing dancing with her. After we were finished I stretched as usual at the bar. And as usual she’d come up behind me to help me deepen my stretches, hands on the small of my back and legs, offering support. This time felt different however, she was closer, her touch more intimate more familiar. I felt the heat of her body on my back side. One of her hands was around my waist while the other caressed the inner thigh of my leg on the bar. I turned to look at her over my shoulder, into her deep blue eyes, my mouth slightly open, and my breathing ragged. She tenderly kissed me and I instinctively kissed her back. Her mouth was sweet and her tongue warm and pleasurable. I felt the hand on my thigh begin to explore higher between my legs while the other hand rubbed the hardness of one nipple making me breath even faster. I never before kissed anyone like this let alone had sex ever. Here I was a total virgin in front of her. She peeled my leotards off of me leaving me exposed and naked but yet on fire and lustful. Now with nothing on and my back against the bar she fingered my virgin pussy, tickling the clit ever so often while devouring my tits and mouth with hers. I was dizzy, … with lust, and scared all at once but I didn't want her to stop. She brought me to the brink of my passion over and over until it almost drove me mad. Finally, she knelt between my legs and took me to heaven. Never before did I feel such pleasure. I could do nothing but moan and grind my pelvis into her face as she expertly licked my pussy. My orgasm came to me almost in a shock as her suckling on my clit made me come in gushes and convulsions not once or twice but three times as if I were doing high flying ballet leaps. As things subsided, she stood and kissed me hard then left me standing there. I never got to say anything to this matron of ballerinas who doled out as much pain to me in class as she gave in pleasure that night on the dance floor. As I collected my clothes, I watched this little beautiful woman walk away, never turning back. I wanted to tell her how much I would miss her. I wanted to tell Miss LaRoche that I loved her…

Ok, so here's one when I was younger and lived abroad.

I used to date a classmate and fellow ballet student named Jeanette. She was a petite, lithe and muscular brunette who had small breasts and pussy but a king sized appetite for sex. Back then she had a boyfriend just for appearances and she would even let him fuck her once or twice but, for the majority of the time, she and I were inseparable. We couldn’t get enough of each other. During class we’d finger each other and then meet in the bathroom for a quick release. Many times she would eat my pussy in the back of the bus on our way to ballet making me come just right before our stop. After ballet class, I’d return the favor in the locker room shower once everybody else was gone, licking her sweet little pussy and twisting her nipples as the warm water cascaded over us. Going to the movies was just another excuse to get naughty in public; kissing and rubbing our hands over each other under our short skirts and inside our open blouses. We were insatiable. No one suspected us of being lovers because where we lived it was natural for friends, especially girls, to be real close. Sleepovers at her house (where we'd fuck all night) were almost a nightly occurrence often falling asleep in between each other’s legs as 69 was our favorite position.

I was in my senior year of secondary school when Jeanette’s dad, Jacques, asked me to work in his lingerie boutique. He told me that my exotic features (light brown skin, curly jet black hair, and full pouty lips) would be a good fit for the store and would bring more business. Jeanette told me to watch my step because she thought my dad had a crush on me. I dismissed it because Jeanette was very possessive and jealous. She didn't even share me with her boyfriend. (Whenever I felt the urge for some male attention I would fuck my English teacher from Africa in his office. I remember he would talk dirty in English to me as he slammed his huge black cock in me. After those encounters with him, my lust for cock would be tamed for a while because he hurt lol.) When I first started working for Jacques, he was all about business. He would make sure all the salesgirls knew everything about each product: the feel, material, fit, etc. He made sure we were all dressed classy and always had her hair done. Through a business trade he had with the cosmetologists down the street we were all well-coiffed and manicured. He even paid for us to go to a gym every day after work with a personal trainer. I was allowed to still do ballet every other day. He paid well, gave great discounts and worked us hard.

One day, I found out the store was closing for its bi-annual collection show. Twice a year the store was transformed into a mini theater complete with a runway. I asked another girl Angie what the fuss was about. She told me these events were the times when the boutique would make the most money. I asked her, since it was an invitation only event, if employees were allowed to attend. She looked at me and laughed. She said “Of course! Who do you think will be modeling the items?” I was shocked! We sold a lot of risqué stuff and I had gotten a glimpse the show's collection catalog: it had a lot of sheer items. Angie must have thought I was so naive. She asked me if I ever wondered why Jacques took so much interest in our looks. It cost him less money and brought in more profits to keep his models year round rather than hire them for just two shows. She also said the fringe benefits were great also. One girl went on to marry a rich politician's son who was a customer. Angie herself dated several many rich men and married a rich businessman. All these encounters were thanks to the boutique. She explained that she continues to work here for the occasional "encounters" with the rich and horny men and women. (I started to believe the rumors of other girls "assisting" clients in the dressing rooms.) It seems like Jacques turns a blind eye but he knows it’s good for business. Jacques himself has personally “helped” some of the women clients. I was fearful and excited at the same time. I was wondering if I'd have the courage to proceed.

I decided to approach Jacques about it. He pulled me into his office and explained the whole thing without the "fringe benefits" parts. He was very matter-of-fact about it. "You are a very pretty girl blossoming into a beautiful woman. You should not be ashamed to flaunt your assets. You will be very much appreciated by me and the clients as well. They will see our merchandise in a very alluring and beautiful way all because your beauty has accentuated it." This man was smooth, very good looking and fit for his 53 years. His second wife, (Jeanette's real mom die when she was very young) was a very sexy 30-something socialite. I heard Jacques was quite the pussy hound before her but she doesn't mind if he occasionally still "dabbles." I told him I was still hesitant about the show. He got up and walked passed me to his office door. He called out to one of the girls and said something to her. He closed the door and sat back down. “To calm your nerves, we will do as they say, a "test run." His smile was bright, his face chiseled, accentuated by dimples, hazel eyes and well-groomed salt and pepper hair. This was the first time I really "looked" at him and he was making me wet. A knock broke me out of my trance. One the girls came in with a small velvet box. He thanked her and told her to close the door. " Petra, cherie, do you trust me?" I nodded yes. He then told me his plans for me to be the theme for the show. I was to be the centerpiece of this lingerie buffet. I was to be the star. He pulled out of the box a very sheer white ensemble consisting of a lace bra, sheer lace string thong, garter and stockings and a pair of high heeled slippers. It was gorgeous. So dainty, so feminine. I loved it. He took my hand and said, " Please, try this on." He motioned for me to go behind the partition he had in his office (no doubt for his "private" clients). I couldn't believe what I was doing, I was about to be almost completely naked in front of friend/lover's dad. I was so wet, I was afraid my juices were going to ruin the thongs. After what seemed forever, I stepped out in front of him, He was beaming. "I was right about you. Your assets accentuate my product! Look at how your lovely unblemished light brown skin brings out the white. Your full breasts with their soft pink nipples just poking through to make the lace look so sensual. The curve of you lovely ass makes people want to follow the string of the thong to see you beautiful shaven pussy lips pouting in the fabric. The musculature of your lovely legs brings out the beauty of the slippers and the stockings. Just so lovely!" I flushed with embarrassment but I also was so turned on. He stood up and approached me. He was looking me over, then stood behind me. "Ah we need a few adjustments." I felt his hand unpin my hair and tussle it free over my shoulders. It sent shivers down my spine. I felt the heat of his hand all over my body "adjusting," Adjusting my bra to allow the maximum cleavage and to make my nipple standout through strategic places where the lace didn't cover well. He "adjusted" the top of my stocking running up and down the length of my quivering thighs. Finally he "adjusted the thin fabric covering my pussy so as to allow just a hint of lip separation. I knew he could feel the wetness and could hear the quickening of my breaths. Still behind me, he guided me to a full length mirror on a wall. “ Petra, you will be the angel of the show. The innocent virgin becoming a woman." I looked into the mirror and couldn't believe my eyes. I looked so beautiful. "However,” he whispered getting closer, “ we both know you are not a virgin. Non?" I looked at his handsome face in the mirror. And I shook my head. "I hear you in my daughter's room at night. And I know that you went out with my friend's son, Pierre, last year.” (true, I did fuck Pierre last summer and the bastard told everybody). I could feel him fiddling with his pants as he stood close behind me. "It’s a waste to be so sexy and not be fucked" he whispered in my ear. Soon, I felt his hard cock against the cleft of my ass, the heat of his sweet breath on my neck and his … cologne lingering in the air. I reached back to stroke his cock for a moment, to feel its warm, meaty thickness and to allow the reality of the scene to sink in. With glassy eyes I looked at him in the mirror and brazenly told him: "Well, let's not waste this moment then." This man brought out the slut in me. He casually bent me at the waist having me place my hands on the wall on either side of the mirror. He looked right into my eyes as he slid the thong over and guided his thick curvy cock into my sopping wet pussy making me feel the warm delicious fullness that can only come from a man. The image in the mirror was surreal. I closed my eyes and kept saying in my head "I’m fucking my friend's father" while he thrusted. "I'm fucking Jeanette's dad" as he plunged harder and quicker. "Oh my god, I’m fucking Jacques!" as he began to explode inside me. I opened my eyes to see this lovely man lost in the pleasure of the moment that my pussy was granting him and aware of the climax of my own lust about to peak. The heat from his juices made me yell aloud "Fuck me, Jacques!" as he kept pumping my tight little pussy full and then I came in an avalanche that left me shaking and weak.

From that day on, I developed a strong addiction for lingerie and the need to always have two lovers in my life, one male, one female. I love having the best of both worlds. Nothing compared to the rest of the school year and that summer, I was the lover to both Jacques and Jeanette. Father and daughter. A type of illicit secret threesome that kept my hungry pussy wanting more attention every single day. Doing both father and daughter at different times of the day and with Jeanette never voicing any suspicions regardless of how many times she would almost catch us either at the house or in the car when he’d bring me to their house after work. She wouldn't even object when many times she'd lap up the cum out of my freshly fucked pussy believing it was that of the black English teacher's seed (whom she admitted she fantasied fucking as well) never suspecting that it was her father's that she was swallowing so enthusiastically. The secret in my head while she was doing that always made my orgasm even more intense. I only wish I could have had them both at the same time. Still, what a great time that was…

This fantasy is for Shayla, sorry for the wait.

I texted her, “Shayla, where are you?” She was late for our usual Friday Happy Hour dinner. She responds that she’s on her way. Her creepy boss had her detained at work under the false pretenses about “misplaced files and job advancement” which really meant he was trying again to get in her panties; key words “trying again.” I knew she needed the job and the money he paid her was good. She decided early on that he was easy to handle and not a bad person except for his occasional horny gestures. Shayla knew he was married to a real bitch that hardly gave him any and who would leave him with barely a quarter of his assets if he messed up. So, Shayla, being the big flirty tease that she was would dress provocatively from time to time just to … the poor man. I didn’t blame him for his obsession. Shayla was gorgeous. I’ve always wanted Shayla myself and had a far better chance than him. He didn’t know Shayla only liked pussy. Finally, she arrives and she’s looking gorgeous in heels, short skirt and a tight lycra tank top. I can see, as does everybody else who is staring at this beauty, that her nipples are hard and by the jiggle of her bouncy breasts that she doesn’t have a bra on. We embrace with a light peck on the lips. She sits and squeals, “I got a raise!” She’s only been at the job for 6 weeks. I know she’s good at her job and works her pretty ass off despite her drooling boss but I’m curious to know how she pulled this off. She explains that she bought in some major accounts to the company recently and her boss thought it was time to move her up (already). I congratulate her with another light kiss and we order some drinks and shots to celebrate. After the shots she tells me there was a catch, “I knew it!” I thought to myself. She said he alluded that he wanted some type of “favor” from her. He told her he wanted to taste her pussy. She flatly told him no but felt sorry for him because of how many times she’s teased him by bending over him his desk so her breasts grazed his arms or the numerous times she’s “accidentally” flashed her panties at him in meetings. “He was so pathetic Petra. I had to do something for him.” So, she told him she’d let him smell her panties and look at her pussy from a distance but he’d have to jack off in front of her and let her take a picture as “safe-keeping evidence.” Goodness, I thought, here was this wealthy successful man putting his whole life in jeopardy for a piece of ass. But then again, Shayla’s is no ordinary piece of ass as I would soon find out. She showed me the video she took with her phone (she’s a sly little fox). There was this chubby little man with his pants down around his ankles jerking his tiny little cock while sniffing what appeared to be a pair of lace panties. “I let him keep the panties. Besides he cleaned himself with them after he was done so I saw no use for them ever again” As soon as she said that I immediately thought : Shayla’s pussy is exposed at this very moment. The thought made me wet instantly. She whispers in my ear to confirm my suspicions and then says, “Want to check for yourself?” And with that she discreetly pulls my hand under the table and under her skirt to let me feel her bald soft pussy. I feel it a little more to discover a swollen clit wet with moisture. She purrs her approval to my fondling, “I was so wet thinking about how exciting it is to have control over someone like that.” I try to remove my hand but she holds it there. “Believe it or not Petra, you have that kind of power over me” she says. I slip a finger in her and she moans. “Really?” I smile. Shayla says “I don’t know why we’ve never hooked up before but, right now, all I can think about is how much I want to taste you and you taste me, until we cum.” Wow! I think. This woman is on fire. She grinds on my hand a little more and pulls my finger to my mouth. I taste her and she is delicious. She slides closer and kisses me hard and passionately. Her hand is under my blouse kneading one of my nipples, sending shivers down to my pussy. After what seems like an eternity I hear “Ahem, would you like to order now ladies?” The pretty little cocktail waitress waits for us to compose ourselves and takes another drink order with a side of appetizers. “Wow, Shayla, you certainly aren’t shy.” I say. She giggles as we look around. The restaurant is packed but the booth where we are seated offers us a little seclusion. If the patio were open, people would definitely have gotten a show; as it stands only an occasional restroom venture or wait staff can really see us. “I’m not shy or ashamed of what I want. And right now what I want is you.” With that Shayla coxes her hand up my skirt and starts to rub my pussy through my soaked panties. I’m helpless as her assault is so expertly performed. Before I know it she has my panties off and my blouse open. Her middle finger is making my G-spot do flips while her mouth is devouring my nipple. I look through half open eyes to see a beautiful brunette casually staring at our scene as she walks slowly to the restroom. It looks as if she approves by the slight smile in the corner of her mouth. Our waitress suddenly comes up behind her with our drinks. I tap gently on Shyla’s head and she sits up leaving my breasts exposed and her fingers still inside me. The waitress cautions us to be careful while staring at my chest the whole time. Shayla says, “We will. Hey aren’t my friend’s tits amazing? I love her nipple ring too. Don’t you?” Shayla cups my pierced breast with one hand as to show it off and my pussy is on fire from being fingered by the other hand. “Yes, very pretty.” the waitress says admiringly. “Your appetizers will be out in about 10-12 minute. I’ll be back then unless you need something else.” “No, I’ve got everything I need right now in hand,” Shayla snickers. I can’t open my mouth for fear that it will all just be moans. The waitress leaves, Shayla drops to her knees and in between mine. She raises my skirt high and finds what she wants, my pussy. She scoots me to the edge of my seat and begins to eat me out like it was the last pussy on earth, sucking hard on my swollen clit and flicking my G-spot incessantly. I open my eyes momentarily to see bathroom girl come out. She just stops in her tracks, hand over her mouth but looking intently at the scene of our shameless abandon. I don’t care because the tension that Shayla has been building in my pussy is about to explode. I try to be quiet but I’m squirming and moaning too much. I grab ahold of Shayla’s head and start to squirt and as I do my orgasm hits me like an atomic bomb. Shayla is moaning and giggling as I continue to ride her face to oblivion. As things settle, I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of bathroom girl walking away. The thought of her having watched me cum excites me. Shayla is smiling up at me from between my legs with her face, some of her hair and her lycra top drenched in my juices. She giggles and says she didn't think rain was in the forcast that she should have brought an umbrella. Lol.