Descent into Depravity – Chapter 4.2

Latest erotic coupling stories: Descent into Depravity – Chapter 4.2

“Gina?” I asked when I had recovered from her assault on my nipple.

“My college professor.”

“Oh . . . Her name was Gina?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t be that good,” I said feeling insecure.

“If you can lick my other lips like you kissed me, you will be great.”

“Oh. Is that what it takes?”

She dropped her head and began to nibble at my neck with her lips, softly and wet right in the hollow just above my collarbone.

“Ahhhhiiii!

She pulled back and used both hands to hold my face so she was staring into my eyes. “You have the most beautiful eyes,” she said. Then she kissed me again, running her fingers through my hair as her tongue probed my mouth.

The kiss lasted almost as long as the first one. When she pulled back she was staring into my eyes again. “Listen,” she said, “the secret to making love to a woman is to focus on her joy. Lay back and let me show you. Then you can do me.”

I rolled to my back, feeling wanton to be lying naked and exposed next to my best friend, who I had never thought of in a sexual way before. Joan was on her knees now, her big tits hanging down from her chest. As she moved they brushed across my hips and abdomen. She was nibbling and kissing my neck again. She pushed my hair aside and used her tongue to lick just below my ear and then her lips worked their way down to that sensitive spot at the base of my neck again. This time she sucked harder, not enough to give me a hickey, but enough to make me cry out in passion.

I reached for my breasts with my hands, but she pushed them away. “No,” she said, lifting her face from my neck. “Let me do you. This is me making love to you. Not you masturbating. Let me make love to you. It’s been so long. Just lie back.”

Oh, I thought. So that’s how it is. No one’s ever done this for me before. Not even Larry. With Larry it was all about him for five minutes. Then he would finish, fall asleep, and I had to finish myself off.

I pulled my hands from my breasts and lay them beside me on the sheet. Sensing my acquiescence Joan began to work her lips down from my shoulders to my breasts. Soon she had a breast in each hand massaging them ever so tenderly. Then she brought her so talented tongue into the game. First she just lowly licked my breasts in ever-narrowing concentric circles. As her circles narrowed to encompass only my areolas, my sensitivity heightened. And then she was licking a nipple and then sucking on it. I had a fistful of sheet in each hand and I was whimpering. So much better than what I could do with my own fingers.

Joan repeated the process with the other breast, but now she was letting the fingers of one hand trace a slow sensitive path down my side, across my belly, around my belly button and then down until the hand was cupping my sex. She was just holding it with enough pressure from me to know she was there, but nothing that distracted from what she was doing to my left breast. Again I was crying out softly, not in intelligible words. Just sounds that expressed the passion I was feeling.

Joan rose up on her knees and pulled the hand that had been covering my sex up to her face. “Oh my you’re wet.” She smelled the palm of her hand and then licked it. “So wet,” . . . she paused while she licked again, . . . “and so sweet.” As she talked she was staring down at my naked form. Not at my face but at the body she had promised to ravage.

I pulled my leg that was away from the side Joan was kneeling on and bent it at the knee, letting it fall away so I was wantonly exposed. Resisting the temptation to reach down and begin to play with my sex, I just lay there swinging the bent leg from side to side. I still had two fistfuls of sheet as I struggled to avoid masturbating.

“See anything you like?” I asked.

Joan smiled. “I see a lot that I like.” She used a hand to softly push my knee to the side. I felt so decadent lying here exposed like that to another woman. Sure, I had enjoyed masturbating to some of the lesbian porn Larry had collected, but I had never imagined this.

Joan was slowly dragging two fingers down the inside of my raised leg now. Softly but surely approaching the V where my legs met. When she got to the top of my leg she slowly dragged her finger around the cleanly shaven outside edge of my vulva, lightly brushing my clit at the top and then tracking on down the other side. I gasped and raised my hips when she touched my clit. “Not yet,” she said. “We’ll get to that, but not yet.”

As she began to draw her fingers down my other leg I lifted it at the knee and pushed it to the side like the first one. It was resting against one of Joan’s big soft tits, but I barely noticed. She had licked her fingers to savor the flavors seeping from my cunt that had coated them on their trip around my vulva. The fingers were wet and slippery as she dragged them down the inside of my thigh.

When she got to the top of my knee she stopped. Leaning on my knee she moved herself around so she was on her knees just between my feet looking straight up at my swollen pussy lips. She reached down and picked up one foot and pulled it up to her mouth and began to sensually suck on one toe after another. No one had ever done that to me. My god! What a sensation. Since when were toes an erogenous zone? I grabbed a fistful of sheet again and held my breath as she seduced my feet—first one and then the other. When she finished with the tops she began licking under the arches of my feet. I thought it would tickle, but it was erotic as hell.

After torturing my feet she slowly worked her way up each of my legs, holding it out so it was spread out from the other one but not bent. Eventually, when she had finished licking both legs all the way up to my now dripping cunt, she sat back on her haunches holding both legs up and spread as wide as my body would allow and stared at my pussy.

“Do you want me to eat you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Do you want to?”

“Oh fuck yes,” she said softly. “More than anything else in the world.”

She started to lean forward, but her long dark hair fell in her face. “Wait,” she said in frustration. “This hair!” she rose up and pulled her hair back tying it in a loose knot that would keep it out of her face long enough for her to fuck me. Then she dropped back down between my legs, stretching out so she was lying on her belly, her legs extended behind her. She used one hand to spread my outer lips and slid two fingers of the other hand into my cunt.

“Oh . . .Yes!” I cried out. Her fingers felt so good. I had been wanting something to penetrate me for at least half an hour now—a cock, a dildo, a cucumber, fingers, something, anything. But that was just the beginning. Next she began to lick my pussy with her tongue, that same tender sensitive tongue that had been ravaging my neck, my throat, my breasts, even my toes a few minutes earlier. But now, as it stroked my inner lips, I realized that all of that had merely been a warm up for the main show. I grabbed two fistfuls of sheet and lay groaning as Joan licked me and finger-fucked me.

We went on like that for what seemed like forever. I could feel the orgasm I had been working towards ever since we were in the pergola building and building in my core.

“Oh shit, Joan. Shit, shit, shit! I’m getting so fucking close. Make me cum. My clit, lick my clit. Oh fuck yes, yes, yes!”

My babbling meant nothing in words, but the passion with which it was expressed meant everything to my new lover. She shoved a third finger into my cunt and began to finger-fuck me rapidly and forcefully.

“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god yes. Finish me, finish me!”

Then without a word of warning, she leaned forward and without changing the pace of her finger-fucking put that magic tongue of hers to work on my clit. She barely had to touch it before she sent me into orbit.

“Ayyyyyyiiii,” I screamed. I could feel my cunt muscles clamping down on Joan’s fingers. And then I was lost in the orgasm that roared through my nervous system.

Eventually I came down. I let go of the fists full of sheet I was holding and used my hands to push Joan’s head away. “Oh god. No more. No more. I can’t take any more.” Joan was sitting up now, looking at me like a cat that had swallowed a canary. Her face said, “Look what I did to you.”

I lay there staring at her big tits until my pulse returned to something approximating normal. Then I said, “Now it’s my turn. Get on your back, slut, and let me fuck you!”

“Oh yes, yes,” Joan said as she flopped on her back next to me. I got to my knees and spent the next twenty minutes trying to duplicate what Joan had done to me. Based on the noises she made, I must have come close. When we were done the wine took over and we both fell asleep, ignoring the juices we had leaked on the bed.

By some miracle I awoke the next morning in time to toss down some ibuprofen, throw on some clothes, and hurry off to teach the remedial English class I had committed to. Joan was still sleeping, so I left her a note written in lipstick on the mirror in the bath: “Lover, Gone to work. Don’t leave. Back by Noon. I want more! Take two,” followed by an arrow pointing to a bottle of ibuprofen on the counter.

The lipstick was a bitch to get off, but it worked. Joan was still there when I got back. She was sitting naked in my living room perusing Larry’s porn collection on my big screen TV.

She stayed for four more days. Neither of us ever put clothes on except when I had to go out to teach or get food. We watched porn, we used my toys on each other, and we made love again and again all over the house including the back yard after dark. It was a marvelously erotic week.

Like all good things it had to end. On Friday afternoon, we walked naked through the back yard to reclaim Joan’s clothes we had left on the pergola that first night. They were a bit damp from the sprinklers, but Joan didn’t care. She just needed to have something to wear to get home before Hervé returned from his trip that night.

As we stood at the front door, she in her damp clothes, her bra and panties wadded up in one hand, her tall heels clutched in the other, and me in my around-the-house mostly see-through gown, I asked, “Will I see you again?”