20 comments/ 98014 views/ 77 favorites Marathon By: secrecy456 Hey everybody this is just a short story. There are no chapters after this one, but I had to write it because I was inspired by a song to write it. The name of the song is Marathon by Raheem DeVaughn and Floetry, hence the name of the story. I hope you enjoy this story and I might write more short stories after this I have to see first. Please keep the feedback coming and tell me what you think. Curious Virgin N.O. (those r my initials by the way :p) * Luke looked across the room at Charlie. She stood there with her plump lips slightly separated. She stuck her tongue out and licked the bottom lip causing him to moan out in the silent room. He smiled and slowly made his way towards her. She began to back up to the bed all the while watching him stalk his prey. She smiled shyly at him as she bumped into the edge of the bed. Her chocolate brown eyes widened in fear and excitement as he came up to her. Her coke bottle body was covered in black lace that complimented her chocolate complexion. He wanted a taste of Charlie and he wanted it now. Charlie began to pant as Luke came up to her. His large body hovered over hers as he pushed her deeper into the side of the bed. His gray eyes were dark with sex as he came closer to her. He lowered his blond head to her face and slowly traced her lips with his tongue. He dragged her into a drugging kiss making her moan. He slid his tongue into her mouth and began to wrestle with her tongue. He explored her mouth, licking and sucking while she ran her hands through his hair. Charlie began to unbutton his pants and pulled his cock out. He grabbed her hands and pushed them away. Luke broke the kiss and looked down at her. She looked at his lips and brought his head back down so she could suck on him. Luke pulled Charlie in closer to him. He grabbed her ass and slapped her hard. She moaned into his mouth as he massaged the sting out of her cheeks. He picked her up and she wrapped her long thick legs around his waist. He carried her to the other side of the bed and sat down with her in his lap. He grabbed her hips and slowly worked her core into his cock. He could feel her wet pussy through her lace panties. He broke the kiss and lowered his head to her lace clad breasts. He took the right nipple into his mouth and licked around it. She grabbed his head and held him to her breast. Charlie moaned in frustration as Luke teased her. He continued to lick around her nipple as she rocked her hips back and forth on his hard, thick cock. She threw her head back as he began to suck on her breast. He gently nipped her nipple causing another gush of wetness to soak her core. He raised his head and blew his breath over her nipple. He turned to the other one and did the same thing. She began to scream his name and pull his hair harder. Luke pulled away from her breast and tore her bra off. Her nipples got even harder as they were exposed to the air. He went back to sucking on them and she started rocking faster on his cock. Luke groaned sending vibrations through her breasts. Luke pulled away from Charlies' breast and growled. She was working his cock hard and he was on the verge of cumming. He laid her down in the middle of the bed and slowly slid her wet panties off. He slowly crawled up the bed between her legs and began to kiss on her thighs. He licked a trail up to her wet pussy, but he didn't get close enough. He turned to the other thigh and did the same thing. He smiled to himself as Charlie began to grind her hips in the air. He put his legs under her knees and spread her legs wide. He dipped his head down slowly and licked her pussy from the top the bottom. He closed his eyes and savored the sweet taste of her cunt. He looked up and saw Charlie watching him. He held her gaze as he slid down and slowly circled her clit with his tongue. Her head fell back and she arched her back. He flattened his tongue and licked her cunt like a lollipop. She screamed out his name in the dark room. He lowered his head and licked her again making more cum gush out of her. She ran her hands through his hair and tugged on his head. He smiled into her pussy and started to tongue fuck her slowly. He dipped his tongue inside her pussy then pulled it out slowly. She tried to close her legs, but he pulled them apart with his arms. She screamed out in frustration. He started licking her pussy faster focusing on her swollen clit. He pulled one arm from under her knees and dragged it down to his cock. He began to stroke himself in time to the strokes he was giving to her pussy. She was screaming loudly now as he increased his pace. He sucked her clit then began to lick her clit faster and harder. He felt her thighs begin to tremble and she wrapped her loose leg tight around his neck. She pushed his head deeper into her cunt while her orgasm rocked through her. Charlie threw her head back as the orgasm ripped through her. She screamed out Lukes' name. She felt cum gushing out of her pussy as Luke continued to tongue her pussy. She felt tears sting her eyes while her thighs started shaking. Luke kept licking her faster and faster and she felt another orgasm work its way up her spine. She arched her back and began screaming his name. Cum pooled between her legs and dripped into her ass. Her thighs were shaking hard and she pushed Luke away from her pussy. He licked the cum off his glistening lips and smiled at her. He worked his way up to her mouth and kissed her. She tasted her sweet juice on his tongue as he played with her mouth. She broke the kiss and nibbled on his bottom lip. She gently pushed him on his back and she slowly crawled down his body to his cock. She pulled his pants off his legs and threw them on the floor. She slowly stoked his cock from base to tip. She could barely close her hand around his cock. She looked him in the face and almost came again from the look he was giving her. He was biting his bottom lip and massaging his heavy sac. She turned back to his cock and began to squeeze his cock slightly as she stroked him upward. She looked down at his hand massaging his sac and slowly moved it away. He looked at her through heavy lids and smiled at her. Charlie moved up his body and lay down on his body with her head facing his cock. She took hand and started massaging his sac again and she dipped her head to the tip of his thick cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip and laughed when Luke slapped her ass. She lowered her mouth on his cock and took as much of him in her mouth as she could. She began to bob her head up and down slowly on top of his cock. She lifted her head and licked him slowly from bottom to top and sucked his head into her mouth. She took his cock out of her mouth and used her hand to stroke him hard and slow. She lowered her head to his sac and licked between them. She took his heavy sac into her mouth and ran her tongue all over his sac. He growled then moaned. Charlie laughed again as he slapped her ass again. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. She increased the pace of her hand on his cock and began to massage his sac faster. She replaced her hand with her mouth and began to suck his cock faster. She felt him grip her ass and massage her cheeks. He started groaning into the room. Luke threw his head back in ecstasy. He felt his balls tighten and his legs began to tremble. He felt his spine begin to tingle and numbness worked its way throughout the rest of his body. He felt his cum gush into Charlies' mouth and she continued to suck on him making sure to squeeze every last ounce of cum in his cock. She moved off his body and turned on her back in the bed. He grabbed her body and propped her head on the pillows in the bed. He raised his body over her and slowly entered his cock inside her wet pussy. Her eyes widened in surprise as he began to pump his still hard cock inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he began to slowly fuck her pussy. He felt her juices coming out around his cock as he slowly worked his cock in and out of her cunt slowly. She was panting softly as he started to increase his pace slowly. He lowered his head to her breasts and began to suck on her nipple hard. He felt her nails dig into his back. She was on the verge of cumming so he slowed down and began to grind his cock into her pussy. Charlie threw her head back in frustration as Luke slowed his strokes down. She pulled his head away from her nipple and pulled him down for a rough kiss. She bit his lip hard and pulled his hair. Luke laughed at her and began to increase his pace. He started pounding into her cunt harder and faster making more of her juices gush out. She began to moan low in her throat as Lukes' strokes became harder and faster. He grabbed her legs and pulled them apart and raised her knees in the air. He began to work her cunt harder and she began to feel another orgasm work through her. She started screaming as her legs began shaking and cum began to gush out of her cunt. Cum began to squirt out of her cunt on to Lukes' cock and lower stomach. She looked in embarrassment at what had to be her first ejaculation. Luke smiled at her then ran his fingers through the cum coating his stomach and dipped his fingers into his mouth. She watched as he sucked his fingers clean. He gathered her into his arms and carried her to the edge of the bed. He sat Charlie in his lap and smiled softly as she rested her head on his shoulder. He was beginning to regret working her cunt so hard. He slowly raised her body on to of his cock and lowered it back down. She whimpered softly as her sore cunt slid on his cock. Luke lifted Charlies' head then lowered his lips to her swollen lips. He sucked on them then dipped his tongue inside her mouth and began to tongue fuck her mouth. Charlie began to groan in his mouth and he started tongue fucking her mouth at the same pace he was working her cunt. He felt her cum drip down his cock and down his sac to his thighs. He growled at Charlie and tore his mouth away from her. He grabbed her hips hard and began to pound into her cunt. He watched as her breasts bobbed up and down from his strokes. He started fucking her harder and faster and watched mesmerized as she threw her head back and screamed his name. He slowed down and began to grind his cock into her pussy as her orgasm ran through her body. She was loud enough to wake up the neighbors next door. He picked her up and carried her to the carpet on the floor. He turned her over onto her stomach and raised her ass in the air. He spread her knees far apart and slowly stroked her pussy with his cock from behind. He entered her pussy slowly and dipped a finger into her cum soaked ass. He watched as his cock disappeared into her chocolate cunt then reappeared. He began to fuck her slow and hard slamming into her ass from the back. Charlie gripped the carpet hard as his heavy sac slapped against her cunt. She raised her head and started moaning loudly. Her nipples were rubbing against the carpet as he slammed his cock into her from behind. She bit her lip then began to scream as he began to fuck her faster. She felt the orgasm building then screamed in frustration as he stopped. She felt cum dripping down her legs as Luke began to fuck her again. He slammed into her cunt from behind hard and slapped her ass. He slowly massaged her ass then began to fuck her faster and harder. Charlie felt the orgasm building and moving through her body. Her body began to tingle and her legs started shaking uncontrollably. She started screaming as her pussy started to squeeze his cock tightly. She felt her pussy gushing cum out of her onto his cock. Luke threw his head back and roared into the room. His cries mingled with Charlies' as he began to cum. He felt his cock and sac tighten up before he felt hot spurts of his cock spray out of him. Luke lay down beside Charlie as he tried to catch his breath. He moved her hair out of her eyes and leaned in to kiss her. He slowly caressed her lips with his. He ran his tongue over her swollen lips. He rose up on his shaky legs and picked Charlie up off the floor. He carried her to the bed and laid her down. She began to whimper as he joined her. He laughed and pulled her to him. He held her tightly as she fell asleep. But the night wasn't done yet. He still planned on fucking her until the night was up. Marathon The ink from the nightclub stamps still stains my left wrist. It will take a few more long hot showers and lots of soap to wash off everything else. After one of the longest, mostly sober Saturdays I've had in a couple of years, I staggered home covered in sweat and come (mostly my own)... and an ear-to-ear grin. I'll confess right up front, I really like sex. Not the prim, romanticized kind women are supposed to want (although it can be nice sometimes)... you know, the kind where women are supposed to pretend they don't want it, mewl like wounded kittens, struggle not to show their pleasure. No, not that kind. I like real sex, happy, rough, athletic, ecstatic, like a wrestling match. If I'm going to the trouble... letting you mess up my hair and makeup and have your way, well then, we might as well make it count. I don't ever pretend not to want it. I don't act like its all being forced on me and I'm some sort of good girl. I like real fucking and I am a very happily naughty girl. When I am loud in bed, it is laughing, giggling, gasping, the same sounds I'd make on a roller coaster, snowboarding, or getting a really amazing massage. Fucking is a celebration, playtime, always full of surprise, discover, and parts of my nerve endings and mind that I only encounter right then. Last night was a marathon in celebration, the crescendo to an enormous day. It started pretty early, with an unexpectedly long hike with friends. Some of them brought other friends, particularly handsome ones. I played "just one of the guys" the whole time, and pretended not to notice them perving out on me. I kept up with the fastest hikers, challenging their manhood, let them see and hear me breathing heavy, behind them, in front of them, alongside them, as we practically ran up mountains. I pretended not to notice them watching me stretch at breaks, the bare spot on my back showing just a peak of lacy thong panties as I bent over. I acted oblivious when the cold wind made my beadlike nipples pop right through my white shirt. I shared beer and tales of much harder hikes like just one of the dudes, bravado and all. They were trying not to stare, to look nonchalant. They are not used to a girl, let alone one who looks like a pinup, beat them at the outdoorsy thing. But I knew this game better than them, and loved it. My cardio could tire out a horse and they feared that. There was friction in our group, I'd fuss with my hair and sing something silly, act girly while we ran up the trail. Then I'd casually parkour up a boulder while they were catching their breath, and balance on one foot. Yes, that definitely made them stare. Any minute I could have made them drop and give me 20, lick my boot, carry me behind a tree. They were so handsome, eager to prove themselvse, like hungry dogs waiting for a treet. I let them wait. At the end of the hike, I quickly invited the prettiest of three them to a party I'm throwing in a couple of weeks. with just enough edge in my voice as I suggested they come stag... for the pretty ladies and all. They goggled back at me, struggling not to show excitement, nodding "yes" furiously, willing slaves. Nervous eye contact, uncontrollable grins, you know the signals that subtly mean "Yes Mistress, whatever you ask, I will do anything." I'm starting to think that sort of squirm is sexy. With a gruff, mannish handshake I was off, driving home for a quick, steamy shower and clean clothes, then off to a girlfriend's house for some sewing. After that project, I took extra time getting ready for the night, "princessing." Trying on one outfit, then another, deciding who I wanted to be that night. The entire process of princessing is so important to me, it determines the entire course of my night. This time, after slathering on my favroite body lotion from Paris, I slipped on a tiny black lace thong panty and this ridiculous French lace bodystocking I've had for ages, but never quite known how to wear. It has long sleeves and comes all the way up to my throat; it was custom-made for me for a dance performance I was in. Unlike most storebought ones, this one had no crotch opening, so it was a pretty committed outfit, either you're in it or you're naked. The lace was strong and tight, made me feel like a very refined sort of cat burglar. Armored, but exposed. It was especially tight on my breasts, which have "grown" a bit since the bodystocking was made. They pressed up against the lace like a window. Over this I added a heavy tapestry miniskirt with lush satin lining and thick tassel trim, and a matching cropped vest that just covered the R-rated part of my chest unless I moved in a certain way. Big black roses in my hair and towering platform gogo boots with tassel trim finished the ensemble... I looked across between a lacey jewel thief, a black matador, and a gypsy acrobat. It was gorgeous and terrifying all at once. I resisted the urge to frizz and snarl my hair like one of those ultramodern runway models, little did I know that would happen later. My first stop after nightfall was a new goth club near my place; it must have been the wrong night, because it was too dark, sparsely attended, and reminded me of over-18 clubs I used to go to in my teens. I recognized a few faces, turned every head in the place, and ejoyed the one good gogo dancer. She was dancing in a red-lit window box like a peepshow girl. She moved well and her polka-dot miniskirt and croptop bared her best assets, a long, lean pair of white legs and a tiny, ballerina-like ass. I kept watching her but secretly watched everyone watching me... watching her. I was clearly the "new-meat" there, I would be remembered. The best part of that phase in a new scene is throwing smoldering glances around, watching interested onlookers twitch when caught staring, as if they were summoned, and then flatly ignoring them. A gang of large, beast-like guys in black eyed me with obvious intentions, whispering to each other like they were observing wildlife. I sensed they would approach with the slightest provocation, but decided I wasn't quite in the mood for that kind of strange. A cluster of giant goth dudes I'd never met before, practically wearing their dicks on their sleeves... that could end in all sorts of ways, not all good. I went outside to smoke. "No thanks, I've got a lighter." I brushed them off so easily, the cluster retreated, cowering like shunned puppies. I don't like being fucked in the ass, or complicating sex with elaborate fetishes. Good old-fashioned fucking with the occasional wholesome orgy is all I need. I'll come back some other day when I'm bored. The "industrial" music was too doleful and downtempo, and the gogo dancer could only enchant me for an hour, so I headed to the bigger nightclub a mile away. Passing through the VIP, thanks to friends at the door, was like a celebrity homecoming; the place was already packed with all my people. It was all hugs and catching up and inside jokes, and of course, everyone bought me drinks, like I'm doing them a favor just for being there. Bartenders love me for that, I'm very good for business. And I drink top-shelf like I've got a hollow leg. The outfit was working dark magic, even though the first few DJs did not get me dancing. I just chitchatted with friends, secretly savoring the slip of satin, lace, and tassels that caressed, squeezed, and brushed all over me. Like I said, preparation determines where my night takes me. A couple of guy friends fought to buy me drinks, trying to simultaneously pull the "one of the guys" act as I took off my jacket and flashed just a hint of squished nipple, followed by a "gotcha" wink. The reaction was seismic, I could see them coming undone and wobbling, even as they tried to carry on our dude-ish conversations about my last snowboarding trip, car repairs, UFC matches. Keeping on like it was nothing was delicious, and just a bit evil. Once in a while I'd speak too quietly so they had to lean in to hear me, smell me, wobble some more. By two in the morning I was pretty tired and starting to feel the earlier hike and the strain I'd earned that day in my hip flexor, so I got ready to call it quits, but then the DJ I'd been waiting all night for came on, and started throwing down the yummiest set, flogging every last ounce of energy out of my already-sore body. My little dance-engine fired on all cylinders and I danced like a gypsy, not caring if anyone was watching, though I'm sure some were... those who were still awake. Two hours later and just before closing, as I tore myself away from the club and out into the welcome cold night, I was drenched in sweat and buzzing high from the second massive workout of my day. The cold air outside was like water in the desert, I felt glued to the inside of my bodystocking, resisted temptation to peel it off in the car. A friend of mine had walked me out, and he snuck in a devilishly tonguey goodbye kiss, so I had to make a break for it before he went any further. He was wonderful but not my type, not enough. As I closed my door giggling and blowing kisses, my phone lit up, and it was a couple friends who'd left 30 minutes ahead of me. They were hailing me to some afterparty at this guy's house who I kind of knew from a few rager parties and snowboarding. We'd always kind of had a thing for each other but had been too tied up in relationships to act on it. He was hot, really hot... a former navy seal, clean-cut, stylish, funny, well-financed... one of the top "most-wanted" guys in our crowd. I wished he was just a little bit taller though... but finding anyone big enough to make me feel small is kind of unrealistic, it narrows to playing field to just a slim handful. I'm 5'9", and even in flats, I'm basically eye-level with most guys. Against my better judgement I headed over to his place, still in a buzzy fog from the workout and with no plans to stay long. I was dreaming of my bed and ibuprofen. As I parked on a dark corner, a couple galpals scooped me into their car for a quick 7-11 run. I wasn't about to into 7-11 in my outfit, so two of us hung back in the car, giggling in the back seat. She is one of my favorite girls, a lesbian goth pyxie with big flashing, catlike eyes, long doll's legs, and a very dirty mind. Kissing her in the back seat kep us busy all the way back to the house. I'd never been there before, it was a nice old craftsman with lots of balconies overlooking a canyon. Our handsome host was zipping around the house pouring champagne, making nachos, offering bumps of this and lines of that. It looked like he was setting up for a "rager" but it was already three in the morning and there were only 10 of us, six guys and four girls. I was way too tired for anything but the champagne, so me and my pyxie lesbian friend just slumped onto his couch, our endless legs tangled out into the living room like more decorative furniture. He had a really nice place and was really going out of his way for us, I was a little impressed. I'd never really noticed him properly, and enjoyed watching him in action, high as a kite and trying to hide it, act nonchalant, then be caught staring wide-eyed at my girlfriend and me. Eye contact almost made him stammer, made me want to just wrap my arms around him and tell him to take slow steady breaths. My lovely lesbian friend had her delicate white hands all over me in my black lace, and we'd slip into another world once in a while right in the middle of the living room, just her mouth and mine and nothing else existed. Everyone at the party took it in stride, they'd seen it before, maybe not with me... anyways, they acted like it was perfectly normal. Except things got real quiet when we kissed. Our host swirled by announcing something excitedly about fresh sheets and was quickly cleaning his bedroom, which was a spacious, creamy, softly lit setup with windows on three sides. The other guests were already slipping away, dozing off on the furniture, tiptoeing away. I was so eager for bed, so tired, so realitively sober... and sore. The next thing I knew it was me, my lesbian pyxie, and a third girlfriend in the fresh sheets, giggling, fondling, kissing, pulling off each other's shoes and tops, taking off our earrings. I was the only one really dressed, just down to my bodystocking and panties, since it was such a promise to peel it off. We lost ourselves in the sweet, warm, secret world of girl mouths and fingers, nipples and soft flesh. It felt like being in the middle of warm apple pie, and every caress felt like heaven on my tired, lace-bound body. Our third player was new to the girls-on-girls thing, straight as me, so fun to "turn." Once in a while more champagne would appear, our host would hover, ask if we needed anything, adjust the music. I hardly noticed him but every time I looked for him, there he was. He was down to just a pair of jeans, looking prettier than I'd ever noticed, and more flustered than ever, like a kid waiting for Christmas morning. I got up from the apple pie once, to check my massively smudged black eyeliner in his tiny bathroom, and like lightning, he was there, fixated on me like nothing else in the world existed. I flirted openly with him out of sight of my ladies, letting him watch me as I posed in my lace, naked but not, twirling one way, then the other, sliding my hands all over myself, giggling. He almost airlocked right then, leaning on the doorway, smiling and panicking all at once. I lavished him with this slow torture, bent low, snaked breathily up his side and into his neck, whispering, "Patience my dear. Breathe." His chest heaved, eyelids fluttered, I slid past him and back into the bedroom, feeling like a geisha trained to bring a man to his knees with a single glance. As I crawled back across the huge, cream-colored bed, I winked back at him over my arched back and tiny lace-covered ass, then giggled as he almost fell over. Then I dove back into the moaning, warm pile of breasts and pussy. Us girls took turns in the middle of the pie, making each other come with the most delicate touch, like witches conjuring majik. When it came my turn the bodystocking peeled off, and I felt so warm, naked, and soft. I made our third come for the first time with a girl, in seconds, whispering naughty instructions in her ear. Right in the middle of her screams I threw him a smoldering grin. He hid his face in his hands, his brawny biceps and washboard abs flexing defensively around him. All of us had come a couple of times, except for me, only my pyxie got it once, with her hot little mouth. Both the girls were starting to look tired finally, it was already way past sunrise and sunlight was streaming in all over the room .... that, and having shed my bodystocking and found more champagne on the nightstand, I had a second wind. He sensed the shift like a mating call and was on me in an instant, out of nowhere like a descending angel. His kisses were gentle without seeming too insistent, and bless him, he kept checking around that we were all OK with it. The other two were busy with each other but clearly drowsy. His hands and mouth closed out everything else, even the girls, and before I knew it I felt his burning hot, rock-hard body breathing feverishly against mine. In seconds we went from standoffish hallway-hellos to "knowing" each other, and I don't even remember where his jeans went. The girls snuck off, leaving us to each other, and it wasn't long before his fingers were exploring my breasts, then my cunt. He was no less than wonderful, and very strong. His cock was even gorgeous, perfectly thick, light pink, and somehow "fresh" looking. He was blonde like me, and had practically no body hair. At first, he was gentle, but whatever he was on called for more force, and I told him he could be as rough as he wanted. Then he fucked me eagerly, not holding back, overpowering me handily. I let him; my strained hip and tired, sore muscles let him. He seemed to want me to let him. I did. I love being overpowered, dominated, driven over the edge. I must be fun to control, I seem formidable but I come so easily. Sometimes, just a little dirty talk and I lurch and writhe, squealing like a trapped cat. I've damaged walls before this way. He locked onto this feature fast, flipped me on my stomach, entered me in one deliciously smooth, sudden thrust, bit my neck, growling "I've wanted to see you naked for so long. You have no idea. I can't believe you're here. Nobody can." His thrusts sped up, strengthened. I was speechless. "You are so ... fucking... tight!" he grunted. I swung one leg sideways, high up by my shoulder, around his head. Yoga comes in handy sometimes. His eyes flashed as he vollied more powerful thrusts at the deepest angle I know. I saw colors, then resurfaced, whispering "just... please don't come inside me... I wasn't prepared for this" and he nodded, and then flipped me on my back, folded me in half, crushed me with his weight. His heat and smell, all wonderful, enveloped me, his kisses rough and demanding, I knew he was too high to come, and I surrendered. I was pleasantly surprised he could so easily throw me around, and he drew gasps, cries, giggles, and yelps from me for hours. Try as we did, we couldn't finish him, and soon I was getting sore at both ends. I told him he had a very pretty cock, told him it wasn't fair he was so high. He laughed, asked if I didn't mind that he didn't like blowjobs. Delighted, I replied that I hoped he was OK with absolutely no strings attached. His answer was a raging hard-on, and another hour of relentless fucking, the best kind, ecstatic, athletic, relentless. His fresh sheets were soaked with sweat and (mostly) my come, the whole bed looked like it had been through a hurricane. I had to leave, yummy as he was, I had dance class in an hour and it was not to be missed. He was demolished and surprised I had to go, surprised I could even get up. I gathered my things, staggered to my car, soaking with sweat for the third time that weekend, leaving an ex navy seal destroyed in his wrecked bed, dreaming of lesbian threesomes. Two days later and I am still walking funny and get butterflies every time I think about it; a photo he sent me of himself almost makes me come. Friends ask me how my weekend was, I tell them "Active." My chiropractor can't figure out what I did to myself. Mr. Perfect texted, then sexted, offering himself at my beck and call, promising to be more sober and less rough. I reassured him, he had done everything right. More than right. Marathon The hardest part of a marathon is often around Miles 20 and 21. It's the terrible intersection where the body is exhausted and the mind knows that the finish line is still miles ahead. Lauren hit that low point around noon. She was in good condition, her small body lean and toned, but the day was simply too much. It was much hotter than expected, over 80 degrees even at the starting line, and she had been struggling since Mile 14. She was too hot, too dehydrated, and had pushed too hard for her first marathon. The last thing she saw before collapsing were the waves of heat rising from the roadway. When her eyelids next fluttered open, she had no idea where she was. Everything was unfamiliar, her mind was blank, and she felt a momentary panic. A hand came down on her shoulder. "You're awake," a woman's voice announced softly. "How are you feeling?" Lauren blinked, trying to comprehend. A world took shape around her. She was in a tent, one of those outdoor event tents that had a roof but no walls. People were bustling around her. She tried to move, but couldn't. Nothing held her down, but her limbs simply would not cooperate. The woman leaned over her. She was a friendly woman, probably in her early fifties, wearing a white top with a little red cross near her clavicle. "Did you enjoy your little nap?" Every thought took extreme effort. Her limbs would still not cooperate. "Wha -- what happened?" she rasped. "You went down on the course. You're severely dehydrated. We're giving you an IV drip now." "I can't move." The woman chuckled. "That's normal. You're so dehydrated that your body more or less shut down. You can move, but it's a lot of work, so just lie there and rest. You'll be okay. We've almost got you filled back up." With an extreme force of will, and just to settle her own mind, Lauren willed her right hand to rise. It did, quivering, but it felt like it weighed 30 pounds. She let it drop back to her side with a plop. The nurse brushed a sweaty lock of brunette hair from over Lauren's eyes. "We'll finish up this drip, and then you should be on the road to recovery. It's just going to take a while, probably the rest of the evening, before you feel well enough to move around." Lauren's energy was drained from the effort of raising her hand, so she didn't reply. The woman produced a form. "What we need to do is for you to go home and rest. You're in no danger or anything. You just need to build up your strength. Do you have a ride home?" Lauren struggled to form her reply. She ticked back the past 24 hours. Airline from home. Nice hotel room at the Marriott. She had watched a movie the night before. She had ordered room service. The town was...Cincinnati. Did she know anyone in Cincinnati? "I ... I'm at the Marriott." The sentence was difficult to form. The older woman got a worried look. "Oh, you're from out of town? Are you staying with someone? Do you have someone to drive you there and look after you?" Lauren's eyes teared up, partly at the memory and mostly because she was so exhausted that the mere act of thinking was an emotional ordeal. She had no one, not since the divorce. She was alone, and not just in Cincinnati. "No." The nurse pursed her lips, but a voice intervened. "Oh, I can look after her!" The voice was cheery, bright, and female. It came from somewhere behind her head as she lay on the stretcher, but it was far too much work to turn and locate it. The nurse looked up. "You can help her?" she asked. "Sure! She said she's at the Marriott? I live close to there. I can escort her back and get her up into her hotel room. Does she have a car that we need to move?" The nurse looked into Lauren's eyes, and felt her forehead for heat. "Do you have a car?" It was so hard to concentrate, so hard to form the words to an answer, but the world was at least starting to come into focus. "No," she whispered. "Cab." "You took a cab here?" With all the strength she could muster, Lauren offered an 'uh-huh'. "All the better. I'll put her in my car, and problem solved!" The cheery voice behind her continued. Who was this person? Lauren hoped this angel of mercy would come closer, because she couldn't turn to look. There was no way she had the strength to even stand up, much less find a cab back to the hotel. She needed help. "Do you feel like sitting up?" the nurse asked. Then, to the voice behind her she said, "Let's help her sit up." The nurse gently grasped her wrists and pulled forward, while some helping hands from behind propped her up from the back and shoulders. Lauren was able to remain upright on the stretcher only with help. Her vision tunneled for a moment before widening again. The helper sat on the stretcher behind her, nestling up against her back and supporting her. Two strong but feminine arms wrapped around her waist and her rib cage. "You okay, sweetie?" The voice was an inch behind her left ear, so close that she could feel the breath. Lauren could feel the swell of ample breasts against her back, cushioning her and holding her up. "I can't move. I'm sorry." "That's okay. I'll help you." In a slightly louder voice, she said to the nurse, "Let me take her back to her hotel. I'll stay with her until I'm sure she's okay." "Is that okay with you?" The nurse peered into Lauren's glassy eyes. Lauren nodded. Bless this woman to help her. "Okay, let's get her up. You get the left and I'll get the right." The nurse moved to Lauren's right side, and the other woman came around to the left, giving Lauren her first good look. The angel of mercy was blonde with stylishly straight shoulder-length hair. She was perhaps in her late thirties, and had the toned body of an aerobics instructor, curvy and strong and fit. She didn't particularly look like a runner, but at the same time she looked fit enough to do anything she wanted to. Lauren, on the other hand, had a runner's body, small and sleek, with enough curves to turn men's heads, but just barely. The other two women were both at least four inches taller than her waifish 5'-3" form, so it wasn't a huge effort to drape her arms over their shoulders and half lift, half carry her. "Thank you," she murmured, as they walked her out to the parking area. Other than a few curious looks, they arrived without incident to a red Honda Accord, relatively new and shiny. The two women maneuvered Lauren into the front seat, and the blonde gave the nurse a quick goodbye hug before climbing into the driver's seat. As she stretched to the pedals, she displayed long, beautiful legs clad in short runner's shorts, and a snug-fitting running top that accentuated her curvy figure and proclaimed her a finisher of this same race two years ago. She patted Lauren affectionately on the thigh. "Don't worry," she reassured, reaching across Lauren to fasten her seat belt. "We'll have you back in your hotel room in no time. And in the meantime I'll crank up the air conditioner." "Mmmmm," said Lauren when the cold air hit her. "That's fantastic." The woman grinned. "It's 84 degrees out there now. They were considering canceling the race, but it's too hard to do that at the last minute with 4,000 runners. How far did you get before you went down?" "I...I remember Mile 20. I think I remember Mile 21, but I don't remember if I passed it." Lauren's voice was soft. Her mind was coming back even if her body remained weak. "Oh, too bad. You were almost there." "I'm embarrassed. This has never happened to me." The woman laughed. "Don't worry about it. You weren't the only one." "I'm so exhausted I can't even move. I mean, I really can't move." The taller woman smiled as she maneuvered through the parked cars toward the exit of the race area. "You can't even raise your arms, I bet. I know. It happened to me once. I did a long training run and overheated myself. I made it home, but I just dropped to the floor inside, crawled to the kitchen for some water, and lay there on the kitchen floor for the next hour. I wondered if I was going to make it." The woman's laugh was self-deprecating. "That's where I am right now. If this car was on fire I don't think I could get the door open." The woman laughed again. "You'll recover. It'll just take a while." She looked sidelong at Lauren, up and down. "You'll bounce back faster than I did. You've got a better build for running than I do, and you're about ten years younger than me." Lauren took a deep breath. A better build for running,, she thought to herself, but not for most other things. She wanted to shake the woman's hand, but couldn't. She smiled wanly. "I'm Lauren. You are...?" The blonde smiled. "Emily." She held out a hand, then realized Lauren's weakness. She brought it down and patted Lauren's thigh again, leaving it there for a moment. Her hand was soft and pleasant on Lauren's tortured muscles. The two women made small talk back to the hotel, with Emily doing most of the talking. It was too much effort for Lauren, and both knew it. Emily was indeed an aerobics instructor, and ran as a hobby. She'd finished three marathons but it wasn't her strength. However, she liked the race-day excitement so she occasionally volunteered at races in the medical tent. It was pleasant chatter and it allowed Lauren to mostly listen, occasionally nod, and rarely speak back. It was just what she needed to take her mind off her fatigue, to the extent that was possible. The red Honda stopped at the Marriott parking lot, and Emily shut it down. "Okay, what room are you in?" "308." "Can you walk?" Lauren wanted to be strong, but she had to be honest. "I'm not sure." "Let's do this. You might need to work with me a little bit, and I apologize in advance if I get a little handy on you. We don't have a third person helping any more." "I'm so grateful. Thank you." Emily went to the passenger side of the car, took Lauren's hand, and the two pulled, maneuvered, and propped until Lauren was upright in Emily's arms, facing her like a dance partner. Her legs were rubber underneath her, and with great effort the taller blonde somehow helped her stay upright while also closing and locking the car. With another deft maneuver or two, she managed to swing Lauren around until their arms were shoulder over shoulder, despite the height difference of the curvy blonde over the petite brunette. Three floors later, they were in front of Room 308. "Where's your key?" Emily asked. "Oh. It's in my right front pocket. It's zipped. Let me -- " "No, I'll get it." Emily moved behind Lauren, then trapped her upright between her own body and the hotel's wall. Her hips ground firmly against Lauren's buttocks, and it was a pleasant sensation despite the circumstances. Lauren felt Emily's fingers probing her hips, almost massaging them, until she found the pocket. Emily unzipped it, reached in, and felt around. And around. And around. She was feeling the front of Lauren's hip, scarcely an inch from where her pubic hair would lie if she had kept any. Then the fingers edged south, down into the dip between Lauren's hip and leg. Then over, and back again. For some reason Emily was having a difficult time locating the key, even though Lauren could feel it rattling around. She was embarrassed to admit that it felt good. Maybe it was a survival mechanism, or perhaps it had something to do with endorphins and energy, but Lauren was never more aroused than after finishing a long run. She didn't know how or why, but there was something there and it was unavoidable. She would do a ten-mile run, and then come home and masturbate furiously without exception. No shower, no rest, just come home, strip off her shorts and t-shirt, and go to town. This situation was obviously different given her exhaustion, but only because she lacked the strength to do it. She could feel the familiar fire arising within her, and it was going to be brutal to lack the strength to address it. Emily found the key and unlocked the door. It was delightfully cool inside. Holding Lauren in front of her, she duckwalked her to the bed, then turned her and playfully nudged her, letting her drop gracelessly onto the bed. Emily surveyed the sprawled young woman below her. "How you doing?" Lauren smiled weakly. "Much better all of a sudden." "Can you move on your own?" "Not really. I'm getting better, though." "You poor thing." Emily laughed and crawled onto the bed over her, her voluminous breasts bobbling over Lauren's smaller chest. "Let me feel your forehead. Oh, you're hot!" "It feels so much better here. Thank you for bringing me." "I'm here to help. That's why I volunteered." She ran her fingers through Lauren's sweaty hair, fussing to straighten it out. Lauren closed her eyes for a moment. She could sense Emily's continued proximity, and when she opened them again Emily was appraising her, her lips twisted in thought. "You know what would make you feel a lot better?" In answer to Lauren's questioning look, she answered her own question. "A nice cool shower." A nice cool shower, indeed. It sounded like heaven. But there was no way it was happening. She was not moving from this bed. Lauren nodded almost imperceptibly. "That would be wonderful," she murmured. "Not going to happen, though." "Can't do it?" Lauren nodded again. The appraising look continued. After a moderate pause, Emily went on. "Let me help you. I can carry you in there. Seriously, you'll be a new woman afterwards." "I can't ask that." "You don't have to. Just say yes and you'll be there in no time." "I...I can't." "I won't take no for an answer. Come on, let's hop in." Lauren's mind hiccupped on the word 'let's', but she was in no position to question it. It was already happening. Emily positioned Lauren's slender arms above her head. "Let's get this shirt off first. Ewwww, sweaty!" She pulled up Lauren's t-shirt, then crawled onto the bed above her head and worked it over her neck and arms. Lauren allowed it to happen; after all, she still had her sports bra on. Well... From above her head, Emily's hands reached under Lauren's bra cups, grazing her fingers on the underside of Lauren's b-cup breasts. In one quick move they were exposed, her small nipples dark and tight as the sweat cooled them. Then the bra followed the same path over her head and arms. In the course of 30 seconds, Lauren had gone from decent to topless at the hands of this friendly stranger. "Oh, wow. You're so lucky. You have such perky breasts," Emily chirped. "I wish mine would stand up like that." "It's easy when they're small," Lauren confided. "But I'd rather be built like you." "Aw, thanks. I like them. Perky, big, whatever. They're all good." Emily crawled back across the bed and onto the floor at Lauren's feet, smiling broadly. She pulled Lauren toward her until her knees and feet hung off the mattress. Suddenly she was untying Lauren's shoes and removing them, then her socks. It felt so good to be barefoot, so cool. Lauren flexed her toes appreciatively. But what about what was coming next? Lauren was still scarcely able to move, and now she wore only her running shorts. Nothing else. This woman, this statuesque, friendly blonde that she had barely met, was stripping her, and there was nothing Lauren could do about it. And of course, the customary and predictable fire within her grew, but that must remain her secret. "Okay, let's get these off." It was like being with a nurse, Lauren convinced herself. Don't freak out about it. Emily positioned herself between Lauren's legs, and grasped the waistband of her Lycra running shorts, which did not require underwear and were thus her last bastion of modesty. Working them down, Emily pulled them down to the swell of Lauren's petite rump, then wriggled them over it and down onto her thighs. She crouched between Lauren's legs to work them down past her knees and off her feet. It did feel good to have the sweaty clothes off of her. Raising her head as far as possible, she looked down her body at Emily, still crouched down around mattress level. Was Emily staring at her now-exposed crotch? "Now, doesn't that feel better already? Your clothes get so sticky." Emily stood up, still standing between Lauren's legs, and inspected Lauren's slender dancer body up and down. "My god, you're beautiful, did you know that? I know a lot of guys who would kill to get a good look at you like this." She was so friendly, so disarming, that Lauren smiled wearily, despite a wary recognition that the outside of Emily's knees were pressing against the inside of her own, spreading them ever so slightly beyond their natural inclination. "Hang on, and I'll go get the shower running." Emily disappeared into the bathroom, and Lauren heard the water turn on. She had a couple of minutes before the blonde would return. It had to be the endorphins. Something about running kicked in her reproductive desires. If she was alone and not inches from collapse, she would be playing herself like a violin. She was heated up, lubricating, all ready to go. But her arms were so heavy... And not now anyway. She couldn't. She couldn't physically do it at this point of exhaustion, no matter how much she wanted to, and she certainly couldn't do it in two minutes with a stranger about to walk in. It was bad enough that she was lying here stark naked in front of the woman. But maybe a quick touch. Her arms were still stretched above her head where Emily had left them. With great effort she began pulling them down ever so slowly, down to her shoulders, down to her waist... Emily walked back in. Lauren's pussy clenched in frustration "Okay, darling, it's all set. It's a nice cool temperature. Not cold, but cool. It'll make you feel so much better." Emily moved back between Lauren's knees, her toned legs once again forcing Lauren's slender legs apart. She bent over, grasped Lauren's arms, and started to lift her, then immediately let go. "Oh, wait," she said. "I'm going to get wet, too. Hang on a second. I don't have a change of clothes." She pulled her t-shirt over her head, then quickly removed her bra. Stationed between Lauren's legs, she gave Lauren a full-on show that could not be avoided. Her breasts bounced into view as the bra came off, and they were spectacular -- large but not too large, buoyant yet natural, and capped with coral pink areolae that could be in Playboy. They were at least two inches in diameter, and Lauren could imagine men drooling over them. She liked her own pert dark areolae, but at the same time she envied women with big pink ones. Off came Emily's shorts, but Lauren thankfully didn't have a view of that given the angles. Nonetheless, she was acutely aware that this woman -- this friendly, beautiful woman -- was now nude in her hotel room. That they were both nude. "Upsy-daisy." Emily grabbed Lauren's arms and pulled her up with an easy strength. Lauren stood unsteadily, and was stabilized by a bear hug, those large perfect breasts enveloping her own smaller orbs. Emily smelled sweet, and Lauren was embarrassed at her own sweaty aroma. "Oh!" She was startled when she felt Emily's hand on her ass, squeezing and gripping. The other hand held her close around the waist, pressing her into the larger woman. But Emily's demeanor was all business. "Let's get you into the shower." Like two dance partners, Emily led, carrying Lauren into the bathroom, lifting her in part by the derriere, while Lauren's legs weakly backpedaled in support. The next ten minutes were surreal, a clinic in seduction, or in caring, or in ... something in between. What was it? Lauren was a rag doll in Emily's control, being held up with one hand and caressed with the other under the regenerative spray of the water. Soft, soapy hands ran up and down her back. They gently stroked and squeezed her buttocks. They ran up and down her hips and waist. And all the while, the fire built within her to an inferno level. Marathon She was afraid to look into the taller woman's eyes. She was weak. She was vulnerable. She couldn't resist anything that was being done to her. Or was something being done? Everything was so sensual, yet so innocent. She was confused. Was Emily seducing her, or was Emily a kindhearted and naive person who was unaware of the reaction she was causing? Was she feeling pleasure purely from her own state of mind, or was Emily stoking it with her touches? "Okay, let's turn you around and do your front," Emily said. "I'm going to sit you down." Lowering Lauren to a sitting position facing the shower head, Emily sat behind her and wrapped her legs around Lauren's waist. She pulled herself in close so that she was spooning the brunette. Lauren again went limp in the stronger woman's care. Emily washed Lauren's hair, gently shampooing and rinsing it with the skill of a stylist, albeit one whose slick, wet d-cup breasts and hard nipples were massaging her back. Then she started again with the soap, gently cleansing and caressing Lauren's forehead, face, throat, neck, shoulders, and ... ohhh. No one had played with her breasts since the divorce. Was Emily just cleaning them? Or was she...was she...Lauren didn't care any more. Whatever was happening, she loved it. It was so pleasurable, so gentle, so sensual that it didn't matter if it was intended or not. She loved the feeling of being enveloped by the larger woman. Slender hands ran over her small breasts, cupping them and sliding over them, the fingers catching on and gently flicking her nipples. Just when she resigned herself to enjoying it, they moved down further, doing the same to her stomach and waist. This woman was exasperating! Lauren was almost thankful that she didn't have the energy to reach between her legs. "I bet you're limber," Emily said into her ear. I'm going to do your feet from here. Let's try." Grasping Lauren's right thigh, she pulled it up toward her chest, giving her access for a quick, gentle scrub of Lauren's foot, which she then repeated with the left leg. "Okay, I'm going in," Emily said, practically whispering. "Good hygiene, you know. Gotta do everything." Grapevining Lauren's legs, Emily spread them further apart, and suddenly the soapy hands were sliding down her stomach, over her bare pubic mound. Emily's soapy hands were cupping her vulva, rubbing, stroking, sliding along her ridges and seams. Lauren's back arched. Even in her exhausted state, she had to react. It was exquisite. She let out a soft moan, almost a squeak. She had almost forgotten how good it was to be touched there by someone else. Emily giggled. "Don't mind me," she said, her fingers working every corner, but not entering, and not quite touching Emily's engorged clit. "I'm a professional. I have to say, though, I like how you're shaved. I trim myself down a lot, but I haven't had the courage to go all-out smooth. Do you like it?" When she said the word 'smooth', she drew the word out and ran her hand up the length of Lauren's vulva and pubic mound. Lauren was having trouble with the conversation. She was highly distracted to say the least. Emily was so casual about what was happening. "Unnh...yes. I like it. I..." What was Emily doing? She was doing everything but masturbating Lauren. Or was she? This woman was holding her labia, squeezing them gently, stroking her lips and the sensitive areas around them, and yet Lauren still wasn't sure. She was inches from climaxing, yet wasn't even sure that she was being seduced. Lauren wasn't a lesbian. She had no lesbian thoughts, or at least not beyond the normal fantasies that any woman had. She had been married. She didn't seek a woman's touch. But this was too much. At this moment, it wasn't about what her 'normal' preferences were. She needed to cum, she needed the attention, and she couldn't give it to herself. She wanted to beg Emily to finish her, as the hands slid up and down her, as she was enveloped inside the larger woman's embrace, her legs forced apart amidst intertwined thighs. But ... she ... wasn't ... a ... lesbian. She whimpered and tried to struggle. But was she trying to move the hands away, or trying to move them to her aching clit? Even she wasn't sure. With a final flourish, Emily palmed her mound, rubbing up and down several times, pubic mound to anus and back. Her soap-slicked hand provided enough friction to drive Lauren wild, but not enough to push her over the edge. Then the hands were back on her arms, giving her a final innocuous stroke there. "You're not going to like what's next," Emily said, "but you'll love it." Leaning forward, pushing Lauren temporarily into a jackknife, she turned off the hot water completely. Reaching under her arms, she put Lauren into a full nelson, stretched her backwards, and spread the smaller girl to take the full brunt of the shower flow. The water went cold, then icy. Emily giggled as Lauren shrieked, writhing with zero strength as her face, chest, breasts, and stomach took the icy blast. "Aaaaaaaaaah," Lauren struggled. Pleasure turned to pain which turned to pleasure again as her body cooled. Was she imagining things, or was Emily peeking over her shoulder? Lauren looked down at her nipples, which were rock hard and as long as she had ever seen them. They were practically missiles launching from her chest. Emily turned the cold water off and the two women sat motionless for a moment. Lauren suspected that Emily was looking down at her rock-hard nubs, but not a word was said. Emily released Lauren's arms at long last and reached up under them, pulling her to her feet. "Sorry about doing that, but the cold water is great for your condition." Once again, she held Lauren by the waist while she toweled both of them off. Then it was back to the bed, where she helped Lauren lie down, her knees again hanging off the edge. Once more, Emily surreptitiously forced Lauren's knees apart. "How about a nice foot and leg massage?" Emily offered. She knelt down, and Lauren felt a pair of warm, soft hands on her tortured and painful feet. She sighed in pleasure. The massage continued for several minutes on her feet and calves, then up to her knees. When the hands reached her thighs, she was tingling. Summoning up her reserve strength, she lifted her head and looked down between the small hills of her breasts. Perfectly framed within them, Emily was massaging away, and independently staring straight into Lauren's shaved vulva. It wasn't even disguised. She looked up at Lauren and offered a knowing smile, holding her knees wide apart. "I can help you if you want it," Emily said in a husky whisper. "I can see what you need." Lauren's mind reeled. She gritted her teeth. She ... wasn't ... a ... lesbian. She was practically gasping with desire, but she ... wasn't ... a ... lesbian. Emily's massaging hands moved above her knees, gently stroking the inside of Lauren's lower thighs. Her fingers were electric on Lauren's skin. Biting her lip for a moment, she reluctantly yielded to her body's needs. "Okay," she said shyly, her voice barely audible. "Oh, yummy." The hands immediately moved up her thighs, stroking and touching. She sensed a body near her, and then... A tongue, warm and moist and strong, ran directly across her clit. "Unnnnnnnh!" Lauren's eyes rolled up in her head, and her eyelids fluttered. The pleasure was incalcuble. Emily's face burrowed between her legs, licking and sucking and nuzzling. Strong hands pried her knees even further apart and held them fast. Lauren again summoned the strength to raise her head and look down her body. Wedged between her spread legs, Emily was buried in her bare pussy, her tongue dancing in Lauren's warm, wet cleft. Her blonde hair flowed and bounced as she worked her magic, and Lauren was riding the tiger, unable to dismount even if she wanted to. Fingers began exploring, one inside her, then two. Emily knew how to find her g-spot, and began rubbing it. Another finger tentatively began probing further back, blazing a new trail. Lauren rode her touch higher and higher. One thing about her post-run masturbation sessions was that they were long. For some reason she was always horny, but it always took a lot of work to get over the divine edge. It was no different here, but Emily's technique was divine, and she was patient. And persistent. Oh, was she persistent. For the next several minutes the hotel room was quiet other than three noises: the hum of the air conditioner, the faint moist smack of kissing and licking wet flesh, and the soft and increasingly frantic moans of a woman being pleasured. Trapped in the bondage of her own fatigue, the smaller woman lay still, but more and more her spent muscles began quivering, from her slender thighs to her taut, small stomach. Her back began to arch as the sensations in her clitoris became more and more intense. Her mind reeled at the thought of what was happening, at the thought of allowing a woman to do this to her, but her body didn't care. It needed the reward that it had earned. Two fingers curled inside her. Another probed expertly up behind. The blonde's tongue lapped and curled and teased. Lauren rose to the edge and froze, like a water glass filled completely to the brim. She held the moment as long as she could, her breath stopped, every muscle frozen in time. Then she exploded. Her hips bucked. Her torso spasmed. Her fists clutched the bedspread. Her legs tried to close, but held wide by her suitor they could not shield her from the intense sensations at their source. She squealed in victory and glory and surrender, and then begged for it to stop as the after-sensations grew too intense. Emily's glistening smile rose up between her legs. "That was fun, wasn't it?" the blonde said to her panting prey. With her fingers and her tongue, she began tracing a path north, across Lauren's pubic mound, up her belly, onto her breasts. Emily gently sucked each erect nipple, pushing her hip into Lauren's vulva to keep up the sensation in that area. She kissed her way up Lauren's collarbone, then her throat, and at long, long last, her lips. Her large pale breasts tenderly crushed Lauren's own as the two shared a long, passionate kiss. What was this? What was happening? "Did you like it?" Emily asked dreamily. Lauren couldn't answer. She had used her final reserves of energy on the orgasm, and now she was spent. Completely and utterly spent. She licked her dry lips slowly, her small chest heaving. "I liked it," she rasped. She closed her eyes so that her sense of touch could remain heightened. It felt so good, inside and out. "Excellent." Emily bounced up and sat astraddle Lauren's tiny waist, fiddling and tweaking with the smaller girl's nipples. "Is it my turn now?" Her turn Her turn? The words didn't register for a moment in Lauren's exhausted mind. Her turn? Lauren's eyes shot open. Emily was repositioning. She was on top of Lauren, rotating, turning to face Lauren's feet. Her knees were now astraddle Lauren's shoulders, trapping the lithe runner's arms up above her head. Emily's pussy swung into view, well developed and pink, with large inner and outer lips. An inch-wide line of dark blonde hair ran up her pubic bone from her cleft. It was a beautiful pussy, classy and pink, and it was the first one she had ever seen. And it was now descending toward Lauren's face. She would sort it all out later, process it, and figure out what it all meant. But for now, there was only one honorable thing to do. It was payback time for the woman who had come to her aid in so many ways. She licked her lips as the blonde's hips settled onto her face, and began her work.