3 comments/ 19855 views/ 10 favorites Felicity By: rikkitampa2014 Two Years Ago The young woman standing uninvited on my doorstep was nearly as tall as I was. And equally slender. She had Italianate features—thick dark hair to the shoulders, dark eyes and full, sensual lips painted a very deep red. Her breasts may have been modest, but that only served to make the plunging cleavage her neckline bared that much more alluring. I got the feeling she wore no bra. A tasteful gold chain adorned her slender throat, while a black, three-button jacket stylishly covered most of the otherwise revealing crimson blouse. Most alluring of all, however, was her black cotton miniskirt paired with sheer black stockings—my favorite combination on a woman. Her slender model's legs, as they say, seemed to go on forever. And black, stripey half-heel sandals adorned her slim, if longish feet. Wow. She did not appear to be a Jehovah's Witness. "Can I help you?" I asked. It was a Saturday. 9:45 a.m. I'd been in the process of brewing up some morning coffee. "Are you Mr...?" and here she inserted my last name. "Yes," I replied, warily. "Mr...?" this time inserting both surname and given. "I am. Is this...some kind of survey? Census?" She extended a slender, chilly hand. Which I shook. "My name is Felicity. Can I come in?" she asked. "I have some very important—vital—information to share with you. I guarantee it will be of interest to you." I was dumbstruck. Had this been a guy, or a woman even one iota less beautiful, I would have told them to take a hike. Leave me alone. No soliciting. I don't believe Jesus Christ is my personal savior. I have housework to do! But this exquisite piece of womanhood... "Would you like some coffee?" I asked. "No thanks." I splashed some dark Puerto Rican expresso into my mug and followed the stranger into my livingroom where she'd made herself at home, sinking onto the edge of the stuffed chair across from the couch. Before I sat, I took advantage of my vantage—and her forward lean—to peek down her blouse. I could see nearly to her braless nipples! Once seated I slurped down some coffee. Thinking about milk. Black-stockinged thighs crossed, the hem of her skirt now reached nearly to her hidden pubes. What a pair of legs! "Would you mind if I slipped these off?" she asked, pre-emptively reaching down and unfastening the ankle strap of one stylish black leather shoe, then the other. Which clattered to the floor. Which clattered to the floor as she wiggled long, straight, liberated toes in the reinforced stockings, revealing, through a translucent screen, the painted red of her nails. Who was this magical woman! Did she know I had a thing for women's feet? Slender feet? In black stockings? Did she know I had a serious foot fetish? (And did she know, at this moment, she was giving me a serious hard-on in my sweatpants?) "You used to live in upstate New York," the stranger asserted. "Yes," I replied, after a pause. "How did you know that?" "In Ithaca." "Yes." I was already starting to perspire. Was it the hot coffee or my mysterious visitor's chilly, omniscient, prosecutor's tone? "But from there you ended up moving to New York City." "In a roundabout way," I said. "How do you know these things about me?" "But after moving to the City you visited Ithaca." "Several times. So?" "This would have been a particular time: around the middle of August, 1990." My eyes rolled toward the cathedral ceiling, with its stilled ceiling fans, as I sought the now three-decades' old memory. It was true. Upon arriving in Brooklyn my apartment had not been quite ready. So I decided to go upstate for a few days and see some old friends. I'd hooked up— "It's hot in here," Felicity declared, rising on those incredible stockinged legs and unbuttoning her jacket and tossing it aside. Her crimson blouse was sleeveless, and for the first time I noticed the gold bracelet adorning her slender left wrist, and the gemstone ring—opal?—on the middle finger of her right hand. Her left was ringless. Regardless, in clothes and jewelry Felicity had expensive tastes. She sat again, her quickly crossed thighs denying my eyes her ultimate secrets. In Ithaca, I'd hooked up with my former nextdoor neighbor Susan. In the evening we'd driven downtown to get a drink at one of the many bars. While we sat at a traffic light, my old friend Victor had staggered—literally—staggered across the crosswalk directly in front of us. I jumped out of the passenger seat and called to him. I don't remember what happened to Susan but Vic and I ended up sitting at a table in a nearby bar. He called a friend of his to join us, and she showed up a short time later. A drunk Vic got insulted by something the woman said—something sexual—and stormed out of the bar. And I abruptly found myself sitting across the table from a complete stranger. She was not unattractive but, on the other hand, being rather short and dark with heavy Italian features, she was not exactly my type, either. It was only later that I decided she had been Vic's gift to me that night, and that the whole insult-and-storming-out-of-the-bar scene had been an act. Thanks, buddy... "Why do you keep staring down my blouse like that?" Felicity frowned, drawing me out of my revelry. "It's making me nervous." "I...?" Felicity wiggled her beautiful butt deeper into the edge of the chair's cushion. "Anyway, that night in August you met a woman...You may not have even know her name." I didn't. "You had a few drinks with her at a bar and then she took you home with her. She was in her thirties at the time. She worked for the university..." This rang a bell, faintly. "You spent the night with her. The two of you had sex—unprotected sex—on her livingroom carpet..." Indeed we did. And for days after I had the rug burns to show for it. I also remembered her farting—involuntarily—in my face when I got between her legs to lick her thickly bushed pussy. "Sorry," she'd said. And I remembered coming, prematurely, silently, inside her. "Did you finish?" she asked, taking a cue from my sudden indifference, and inertia. Afterwards she made me something to eat—eggs and bacon if I'm not mistaken. And a glass of milk. Then we climbed together into her four-legged tub and took a hot soak. She commented on how hairy I was, calling me a bear. Then added fondly that I reminded her of her father... Or perhaps we took the soak first and then ate. No matter. I slept a few scant hours in her bed until the dreaded alarm went off. Perhaps we had sex again, I don't remember. But I'd had very little sleep over the past couple of days and asked if I could stay behind and catch up in her comfy bed. She kicked me out. That was the last time I ever saw or heard from the nameless woman. "At any rate," Felicity continued, "that was mid-August 1990. On May 19th of the following year I was born." And at this moment I felt the blood drain from my face and head and brain. I was beyond stunned. Was this young woman insinuating that I was...her father? Was any of this really happening? Was it some kind of set up? Put-on? "I was born at 6:19 a.m. at Ithaca General Hospital. My mother—the woman you fucked on her rug nine months earlier...her name was Anna-Marie. She was a second-generation Italian, the daughter of immigrants. My mother worked for over twenty-five years in the university library system," a distant memory bell once again clanging in my bloodless brain. "She died of breast cancer last year." "I..." "What?" Felicity asked, leaning over even farther. "I'm...sorry." "I'm sure you are. Did you ever even know her name?" I shook my head. Maybe she told me that night, maybe she didn't. Regardless, I was speechless at the moment. Numb to the core. "You may question this—that you're my biological father. That's perfectly understandable. But I have to tell, based on my research and what I see in front of me now, I'm 99% you're my dad. I mean...look at us." "Research...?" I said, in a daze, looking up from Felicity's curled-under, stockinged toes. "Fair enough," she replied. "It started with what mom told me. The business on the rug and all that. Mom and I never held anything back. Sexually, that is. And to be quite honest, mom was rather promiscuous back in the day. But I guess she and you had a mutual friend? A guy named Victor?" I looked up. Again. Still involuntarily open-mouthed. A woman in her early thirties, a woman I'd never seen before, and knew nothing about, was sitting not two meters away from me claiming to be my long-lost daughter. What? "Vic is still alive," Felicity continued. "I tracked him down in Long Island. He remembered you very well. Although his memory—he's a recovering alcoholic, I gather—his memory of the night in question is kind of, shall we say, blurry. But he spoke very highly of you. Said you'd bailed him out of jail once back in the bad old days. Said you were one of the few white guys he'd ever truly counted as a genuine friend. You remember Vic?" "Very well," I nodded. "It took him awhile but he finally came up with your last name. Emailed it to me a few weeks after we met. From there it was simple. Driver's license records in the state of New York. That led me to your social security number. Once I had that..." Felicity snapped manicured fingers. "Now here I am," she added, rather gleefully. In response I buried my face in my hands. My head was spinning. What the hell was going on? Could this be true? "I can well understand your skepticism..." I looked up. "I'm not—" "We could do a paternity test—I'm not after anything from you, by the way. Frankly, I'm a very successful attorney and quite well off. I live in Boston. I couldn't do it this trip—the blood test—but I could perhaps do it on a future visit. We could nail this down, once and for all. If you're interested." I shook my head. It was buzzing like a beehive. And it still buzzed after I shook it a second time. "I'm sorry. Why are you 99% certain again?" I asked. "For all the reasons outlined," she said. "My mother told me—and I believe her—she had no reason to lie—that she had not been with a man for at least two months before that night she met you. And she didn't have sex again—because she was pregnant, I guess—didn't have sex again until months after I was born. Her doctor confirmed she was pregnant about six weeks after the night you slept with her. That would've put it at the end of September or so. "Sorry," Felicity continued, "but I'm afraid you're the unlucky guy." "I'm—" I choked. "I'm not unlucky. Not if you're my..." I rose off the couch, tears in my eyes. "Would you excuse?" "You OK?" "Need a..." Headed for the kitchen cabinets. Opened one door after another. I was normally a beer and wine guy. But today... Locating the rarely used bottle of Early Times—a two-year-old Christmas gift from a client—I uncapped it and started to take a swig. "You, um..." Off to my right, in the livingroom, Felicity was standing now also. Hands behind her nape, she was fidgeting with something. "You want a drink?" I asked. "I don't drink," she said, with a somewhat superior air. "Would you help me undo my...?" I tipped the bottle up and drank. Tipped it a second time. The sweet Kentucky bourbon burned going down. "Wha...?" I asked incoherently. "My...?" When I returned to the livingroom Felicity turned her back to me, her fingers still fiddling at the top of blouse's zipper. "Would you undo me?" "Why?" I asked. "Unzip me?" "No I know but...WHY?" "I'm your daughter and I want you to see me," she said. "It's been 32 years." My trembling fingers replaced hers. I was thankful for the double-dose of whiskey. It took me a few tries to undo the hook. But the zipper went down easily. Before I could even finish the descent, however, Felicity yanked the tail of her blouse from the waist of her skirt, pulled blouse over her head and discarded it. And I was left staring at the pointy articulation of her shoulder blades, and at her spine's hollow disappearing into the trim waist of her skirt. Then she turned to face me. My mouth hung open. Yet again. A smiling Felicity cupped a hand under each low-hanging, perfectly symmetrical B-cup and lifted it slightly. Her breasts were pale while the surround of olive skin was nicely tanned. She'd been sunning herself in a bikini top recently, I gathered. "Jesus, darling...," I heard myself say. "Darling? Did I turn out well?" my daughter asked brightly. "Beautiful..." I was sinking to my knees. "Kiss them," she said. "You've been staring at them ever since I landed on your doorstep. Now...kiss them." I was more than happy to comply. I was, in fact, delirious. And I leaned forward, mouth open, poised. Taking each pale breast in a hand, I gently squeezed the liquidy softness as my tongue and lips played over each of her small brown nipples. I sucked them and kissed them. And as I did so I breathed in the light scent of the peppery perfume she wore. Fendi? This girl wore only the best. I kissed and sucked and felt my daughter's exquisite, pouty, low-hanging breasts until, wanting more, my head dipped toward the front of her skirt. Felicity held me back. "Wait. I have an even bigger surprise for you." I kneeled in front of her, fairly well panting by now, as she unzipped her miniskirt on the side, let it fall to her ankles and kicked it aside. Then, inserting a slender hand into each side of her sheer ebony pantyhose, she lowered these down to midcalf, before high-stepping out of them and, likewise, kicking them aside. Now her beautiful feet were in full view below me. Long, slender, with perfectly stair-stepped straight toes, their nails pedicured a bright cherry red. I longed to prostrate myself and kiss my daughter's feet. And suck each precious toe. But a more pressing matter met me at eye level. It was only now that she was down to her shimmering, silvery-black panty that I recognized the little bump at the bottom of her pubic vee. I stared in disbelief. Was she a...? As a final act my daughter wiggled out of her pricey, French-cut panty. And there it was in full view. There they were. Not so much dangling as clumped tightly in front of me was a penis and set of balls. Felicity's male genitalia were completely hairless. As was her surrounding shaved pubic region. Her little flaccid circumcised penis was about the diameter of a nickel and perhaps—perhaps—two inches' long. Her little balls about the size of two large grapes. Not for the first time this memorable morning I stared in disbelief. Towering above me, arms folded under her pendant breasts, Felicity said: "I was born with both female and male genitalia." Lifting her little male package out of the way she continued: "I have a uterus and even ovaries but they're dormant. Sealed up as you can see. Over the years I've thought about having surgery, to trade in one set of sexual organs for the other, so to speak, but the doctors have assured me my female organs are useless. Sterile. What's the point? Besides, since an early age...highschool? I've realized that nothing turns males on more than, as you guys call them, she-males." Felicity laughed. "I even had a boyfriend—two boyfriends actually—twins, very famous—who...Well, while one was fucking me the other shot it with his camcorder. The funny thing is, if you watch the video...You think it's one guy jumping in and out of the scene when it's actually two! Anyway, they posted it on some sex-video site and, last time I looked, it had received like 36 million views. 'Real-life she-male.' Something like that. I wore a blonde wig, of course. I work for a very prestigious Boston law firm. Don't think the old-fart partners would appreciate having one of their attorneys popping up in a XXX-rated she-male video, do you? Or maybe they would. I can send you the link if you want. If you'd like to see your she-male daughter in action..." "Mmmm," was all I could say. For, throughout my daughter's monologue of explanation, I'd been kissing and licking and sucking her genitalia. And when I gathered her little grape-sized balls in my mouth, and suctioned them deeper, she let out a pleasure cry that made me, well, proud. "God, dad," she said after a while. "You're pretty good at this. I get the feeling this is not the first cock and balls you've sucked." Hastily adding, "Don't worry. I have an open mind." After several delicious minutes, when I came up gasping for air, Felicity asked: "Would you like to fuck me?" I looked at my daughter, panting. "I'd like for you to," she added. "Would you—" "Yes. YES!" I cried. "Can we go somewhere more comfortable?" Rising to my feet I took my naked daughter by the slender hand and led her up the stairs to the master bedroom. As she climbed on the bed I opened a drawer and tossed a tube of lubricant onto the mattress. She had no vagina, after all. Or no opening, at least. "God," my daughter said, as I climbed naked onto the foot of the bed. "Look at you. We have the same body. Except for the tits and hips, of course." "And the genitals," I added, holding my seven-incher in my left hand. "True. I'm seriously lacking in that department. But I'm a girl, so that's good thing. Hm, I see we both shave our balls..." I ignored the comment and went about smoothing KY jelly up and down my rigid cock. As Felicity lifted her legs, a hand behind each knee, I lubed her beautiful puce-pink asshole and pushed my fingers inside. "You'll find I'm very roomy," she said. "I've been doing this a long time." "I bet," I replied. Not exactly sure what I meant by it. I entered my daughter slowly and gently. And yes, she was quite "roomy" inside. Her pretty ass had played host to countless cocks since highschool, I speculated. Once I began fucking her she said: "Stroke my little cock, OK?" Since my own penis had entered her, anally, her little thing seemed to have grown a bit. It was about three inches now. Though hardly thicker now than when I first saw it, on my knees, in the livingroom. Was she fully engorged? It, I mean? Whatever. As I slowly fucked my daughter's spacious asshole I took the semi-soft little thing between the two fingers and thumb of my right hand and began to stroke it. "Is that good?" I asked. "Yes," she said, somewhat breathlessly. And for the first time since her improbable arrival I felt my daughter, if she was my daughter, was a little bit at my mercy. I was the daddy! I was in control! Fucking wise, I was able to pace myself. The first sign I had that Felicity was giving into to the dual pleasures was when her head arched back on the pillow. She emitted a pleasure-sigh. Then her hands went Joe Cocker—the late Joe Cocker—above her flat belly and her back arched. "Oh!" she cried. Just before her little cock spooled out a few small streams of semen. Her sperm was bright-white. In fact I'd never seen ejaculate so white, and pure-looking. Even from a distance I could smell its fruit. Its exotic sexual perfume. Pulling out of my daughter's ass, I bent over—I couldn't help myself—and began to lick it up. It was delicious! I'd never tasted sperm so fruity and sweet! I licked and licked until her belly was dry except for the wide, spermy traces of my tongue. "Oh god!" I gasped, raising up. "Thank you," my probable daughter said, in the form of a sigh. But when I tried to enter Felicity's ass again her hand blocked passage. "No," she said. "Cum on my belly. I want to mingle our two sperms..." Though, frankly, after my tongue's work, there was little left to mingle. "I..." Once again I was speechless. "I'll help you," Felicity said, and as I lay my own hard cock onto her spent little one, she took it in her hand and began to stroke it with a backwards fist. Felicity Felicity's asshole may not have been tight but her gripping hand was. So it was over within seconds as I shot my load, five times what her little balls had produced, onto her belly. I looked down, cross-eyed, as some of my jism pooled in her belly-button. "Goddamn!" I exclaimed, after the fact. "I wasn't expecting that," my daughter said. "That soon. Look at all of it..." She dipped slender index and middle fingers into it and brought them, thickly dripping, to her lips. "I LOVE the taste of cum," she said, dipping a second time. "But this is so profound. This is the same seed that created me! Unreal! What time is it?" Hunh? Her nonsequitor caught me off guard. Come to think of it, she'd been catching me off guard for the past hour. I looked left—at the bedside clock. "It's about 10:45," I said. "Why?" "Oh, god. I need to get going. Would you mind cleaning me up?" No, dear, I thought, as I scuffed heels to the bathroom. I let the water run until it turned warm and then bathed a washcloth in it, and rinsed it out. Then, head buzzing again, or still, I brought it back to the bed and gently wiped my daughter's lower abdomen off and, even more gently, her precious little male genitalia. She lifted her legs and I wiped her crack clean of lubricant. Even her ass-crack was beautiful! She thanked me for the second time. "You can't stay?" I asked, hopefully. "I can't. I met this guy on the plane last night and I promised him I'd meet him for lunch." "Dinner, then?" I pleaded. "My treat?" "This guy seemed like the wine and dine type. Sorry, dad." Dad. I could feel my heart breaking. Literally. I decided to continue pleading my case after we returned downstairs. And there I stood, in sweatpants, watching my naked daughter quicky and methodically pull on panties, hose, blouse, skirt and then sit, edgewise on the chair, to reattach her stylish shoes' thin ankle straps. She led me to the front door. "You're welcome to stay here overnight," I offered. (It was more of a plea.) "Thanks, daddy. But I imagine I'll be spending the night with this guy. Besides, I booked a hotel room." Felicity flashed a smile. When, during all this, had she found time to refresh her red lip gloss? And where did she keep it? She wasn't even carrying a bag! "You see," she said, "I'm afraid I inherited my mother's appetite for having one-night-stands with complete strangers." "Well...make him wear a condom then," I said, trying to sound halfway fatherly for the first time in my life. In our lives. "You're one to talk! Daddyo!" Felicity laughed. Then my daughter did the unexpected. She leaned over and planted a very sloppy kiss. And I thought a hole was going to melt through my right cheek. Tears flooded my eyes. "Bye," she said. It was only after I'd opened the front door for her that I realized, blurrily, no rental car was parked in my driveway. "How did you get here?" I asked. There was no reply. Felicity Becomes Aware Felicity lazed around the house; her body still ached pleasurably from the intense sexual activity that she had experienced a couple of days ago. Her husband had returned on the Sunday and as usual they had gone to his church and as she met with the rest of the church leaders, she wondered if they could see any difference in her. Now on the Monday morning she was trying to work out how her stepson Robert had managed to obtain the photographs that he had used, to blackmail her into a sexual orgy, with him. She heard the phone ring and was pleasantly surprised to hear Robert’s voice. “How do you fancy another good fucking.?” He said Immediately she felt a rush of sensual lust shoot through her body, “ Oh yes please” she said, “I can’t wait to feel you prick ploughing into my cunt and arse again” Bobby chuckled and said that he was pleased to hear that she had remembered his lesson and that he would be in the hotel that evening if she wanted a nice surprise. Felicity realised that she could get away that evening as she had arranged to go shopping in the city that afternoon and had told her husband that she would have dinner in the city before driving home. Eagerly she told Bobby that she would be there and that she wanted to know how he had got old of the photographs, he told her that all would be revealed that night. Felicity quickly got dressed, (in her usual plain vicar’s wife’s clothes that hid her magnificent body so well) and left for the city. She was going shopping and one of the shops that she intended visiting was a boutique that, according to their ads, sold sexy lingerie and clothing. Felicity drove to the hotel, parked her car and took a taxi to the shopping centre. She quickly bought the household items that would allay her husband’s suspicions and made her way to the advertised boutique. She walked past the shop a couple of times plucking up the courage to enter, after all this was one of the shops that she and her fellow church ladies had condemned as being immoral. Eventually she persuaded herself to enter, a young female assistant, who had noticed her nervousness, came over to her immediately and invited her to go into a private dressing room which was there for first time buyers like herself, she was handed a magazine which had photographs and descriptions of all of the boutiques wares and she was invited to make her choice in the seclusion of the room. Felicity looked through the catalogue and selected a couple black mini skirts, a sheer white blouse and a red satin camisole top, 3 lacy bra and panty sets in black, some garter belts, black and red nylon stockings and a black basque with a half-cup bra. The shop assistant though surprised at her choices, brought the items and then asked Felicity if she wanted to try on the clothes and if she required any help in fitting the brassieres, explaining that the flimsy type that Felicity had purchased were not like standard ones. Felicity was a little embarrassed, explaining that she had never undressed in front of another woman before, the assistant introduced herself as Lucy and assured Felicity that there was no need for any embarrassment and to treat Lucy like a nurse in a hospital. Felicity finally agreed and began to remove her day clothes, Lucy noted that though plain they were expensive and clean and folded them and put them into a bag, thinking she’ll not want to wear these again if those outfits are anything to go by . Felicity in the meantime had put on one of the pairs of lacy panties and had picked up the matching bra, and stood waiting. Lucy turned around and let out a low whistle of approval as she saw Felicity’s lovely figure. Lucy started to help Felicity with the bra and in the process glanced down at her lace panties and saw that Felicity had a clean-shaven mons veneris, this woman has hidden talents she thought and deliberately let her hand run across Felicity’s bare breast. She was delighted when Felicity gasped and Lucy saw her nipples harden. Lucy apologised and said that in fitting the cups properly she would have to touch Felicity’s breasts especially with the basque. Felicity who had felt what she thought was an electric shock when Lucy had touched her, remembered what Robert had said about her breasts sensitivity nodded her assent, her mouth was too dry to speak. Lucy who was experienced at seducing customers lost no time in arousing Felicity even more by touching and caressing Felicity’s bare tits whenever she got near them. Finally it came time to fit the basque, Lucy insisted that it was best done with no panties on, by this time Felicity who found herself more and more aroused and was even wet between her legs had realised what Lucy was doing and was only thinking of the lovely sexy feelings running through her body. When in fitting the garment Lucy actually ran her fingers along the lips of her vagina, Felicity looked at Lucy smiled and said, “I have never been touched by a woman before but I would love you to finish what you have started and bring me off”. Without saying another word, Lucy placed Felicity on the divan in the room and dived between Felicity’s legs, her mouth and tongue quickly going to work on Felicity’s vagina, Felicity pulled Lucy’s head further into her groin and whispered, “That’s it lick my cunt, put your fingers in, make me cum”. Lucy lost no time in following these instructions and inserted three of her fingers and worked them in and out of Felicity’s cunt causing Felicity’s vaginal fluids to flow even more and then inserted the fourth. Felicity had never felt such pleasure coursing through her body before and began to moan in time to Lucy’s thrusting hand. Lucy then placed her thumb alongside her fingers and pushed until her hand was in up to her wrist, she then made a fist and plunged it rapidly in and out of Felicity’s wide open cunt. Felicity was mewing with pleasure as Lucy’s tonguing and though not aware of the term, fisting brought her to a glorious climax. Felicity could hardly believe that her rarely used vagina could have engulfed a woman’s fist and she said as much to Lucy. Lucy laughed and said, “ If a baby’s head can come out, something as small as my fist can certainly go in.” Felicity laughed in agreement, stopped Lucy’s ministrations and stood up, kissed Lucy on her lips, she then laid her onto the divan, Felicity lifted Lucy’s dress up and pulled her panties down, Felicity’s tongue quickly delved into the warm moist cunt on display to her and though a virgin as far as this was concerned proved that she was a quick learner by repeating Lucy’s action and bringing Lucy to an equally satisfying orgasm. Both of them licked the juices off their fingers, kissed each other and Felicity dressed herself in one of the outfits that she had just bought, ordered a taxi and made her way to the hotel to meet Robert. On the way she marvelled at her boldness, from being such a prude only last week, she had been fucked rigid by her stepson and today had made love, no she thought remembering Robert’s words, I had sex, I was fucked by and did fuck another woman. And I want more of it too she thought. She looked up into the taxi’s mirror, aware that the driver could see right up her mini skirt and was looking at her lace-covered cunt. She decided to give him a bigger thrill and opened her legs as wide as the skirt permitted, she then placed a finger under the lacy edge and pulled it aside. The car lurched and she knew that he was watching. “Don’t expect another tip on top of that.” She said smiling innocently and grinning into the mirror at his startled look. On reaching the hotel the driver, who was as black as coal looked at Felicity and said, “ If you let me finger that bare pussy there will be no charge lady.” Felicity smiled and replied. “ I would love you to finger my cunt but I’m afraid that it wouldn’t stop there and I’m late for my date as it is, perhaps we may meet again.” She left the bemused taxi driver clutching his money and went into the hotel …….continued in Felicity Comes of Age