5 comments/ 60277 views/ 11 favorites Rachel & Janie's Massage By: PenelopePinn Rachel and Janie's Magical Massage, Part 1, A Place to Go... "It's in the loft in that building over there." Says Rachel. Hmm, I think, dark street, old brick building, less than inspiring neighborhood, not to mention it's 10 at night—what's not to worry about. "Rach," I say tentatively, "maybe we ought to think about this? We've both had too much to drink...so, you know, this is weird." "Nooooo," moans Rachel mournfully, almost stamping her foot "you aren't going to chicky-chicken on me are you?" "Trust me, girlfriend," she says and lets up on the drama, slipping her arm companionably through mine. (Like a French couple, I think, just a pleasant stroll along the boulevard...here in the dark.) "This is really the best massage you'll ever get! "Yeah, right" I say, "but lets get inside before we get mugged, OK!" Rachel is my roommate here at Clemerson U in the quaint college town of Oakmont, a green, leafy glen of students, townies, with a little light manufacturing (hence these old brick buildings in a less than desirable neighborhood). Rachel is a southern girl who is at home in the warm moist climate here. She is gracious and engaging with a pretty face and playful spirit that commands a beautiful curvy body the guys are wild about. Despite her fiery red hair, she is good humored and hardly ever a grouch. Her forehead is an expanse of luminous white with no worry lines. She is also endlessly demonstrative. She touches me constantly: A pat on the shoulder, a hug whenever we meet, along with what seems an obligatory kiss, euro style on both cheeks. She even tries to kiss me goodnight like she's my mom, but I swat her away playfully so that she isn't offended. I just turned 18 after attending lots of accelerated prep courses. All study and no play have left me a little shy and sometimes bewildered during these first few weeks on campus. Rachel is a sophomore. I am rooming with her because she is my designated mentor. Her job is to help me adjust given my early start. I am small and petite with a slim body and rather pronounced breasts that I am self-conscious about. My mentor isn't much help, especially since she is always trying to dress me in her silky bras. She says with a little satin I could be a Victoria Secret model. I tell her Victoria Secret models don't flinch on the runway when boys stare at them. Rachel brushes this off as she holds up yet another frilly bra up to my tee shirt that I won't take off despite her coaxing. "You're just shy." She says as she presses the bra against my chest, her fingers holding it to my breasts, a little too closely, I think. We're out this Wednesday night when we should be studying because I'm making up to her for what she calls my standoffishness. Her words, "Janie, jeez, lighten up I'm your roommate and mentor, OK?" Big eyes, moist with fake impending tears, then a smile and all is forgiven, southern girls are really good at manipulation. "Let's go to Georgie's! It's too hot to study. Plus I have a surprise for you." So here we are at Georgie's which is this neat old bar on the townie side that seems to cater more to women than men. I do see a few men here and there, but they are rare, like an endangered species. The bar's got a nice groove to it: Low incandescent lights cast shadows that give the booths lining the walls some privacy. The booths curve out like seating at a fancy Italian restaurant so you end up facing the bar and the little dance floor where it seems just the women dance (lots of slow dances for some reason). Anyway, its past nine on a school night when I should be studying for the chem quiz tomorrow. So, while I enjoy the white wine cooler my now tipsy roomy makes by pouring wine into my 7Up when she thinks I'm not looking, I know we should be going. Rach has already taken Chem 101 and has told me what to expect. For what seems a ditz she has all of last year's quizzes neatly filed. I already know the quiz can't be that bad. Knowing this, Rach has already drawn a bead, like a true confederate daughter, on my fidgety ways. "Janie," she says with that twinkle in her eyes that tells me to watch out, "have you ever had a massage?" "Nooo," I say piqued, "I already told when you tried to get me to come with you last time to—what's her name—Jasmine's." "But sweetie," Rach says, putting her arm around me like a possessive boy, "It's really nice. You will be so relaxed you'll ace that little chem quiz tomorrow." "Oh hell," I say into her captivating smile, my head buzzy with alcohol, how can I let my bossy roomy down, "my first massage!" And, true to form, she rewards me with a wet, wine-soaked kiss on my lips! So here we are walking carefully up shadowy steps tacked onto the outside of this old brick building. They lead us toward a wooden door on the third floor with a low-watt bulb shielded above it. "Hey" I say, nervously "this looks like a scene from Fright Night or Chinatown...maybe she's...ah...closed?" Rachel laughs knowingly and says Jasmine never closes. Okayyy, I think, holding a little tighter to the stair rail. At the top of the stairs Rach yanks open the door like she owns the place. We walk down a dark narrow hall. How noir, I'm thinking, until she knocks on a glossy red door covered with sinewy green vines enameled onto its insets. This is the first hint of something... different. She calls out, "Jasmine look who I brought you!" I wonder with the curiosity of a slightly drunk, oddly horny girl whether Jasmine is a some sort of vampire...and I her sacrifice. The door opens and this beautiful black girl steps out: Confidence in iridescent, deep blue black. She smiles at Rachel and then frowns, "I have a client already." "Oh" Rach says like a deflated balloon. "Hmm," Jasmine says, hugging Rachel lightly. "Let me ask my client--you've met her--if you can watch until I'm done. She is very open—so maybe it will be OK." Jasmine leads us into a small foyer and returns shortly, smiling. She says her client would love to have us join her. As she leads us into a large candlelit loft where high ceilings surround us in shadows, she tells us there is a stipulation: We must sit together over there on that purple love seat. It is my spectator couch she says. "See, it is raised off the floor so that you can watch all of my good moves. Also, my client, her name is Miss M, Janie, wants you to hold each other's hands and not say a word—just watch. OK? She is one of my favorite and very generous clients. If you two behave—no giggling, Rachel—I will give you both an extra special massage." Then she puts a forefinger to her beautiful full lips, warmly smiling in glossy pink, and leads us to our love seat. Rachel and I sit down. The love seat is small and soggy, so we end up snugged together, hip to warm hip. Jasmine takes my hand with a little shake, and leans over and kisses each one of my fingers, caressing them lightly with her own long slender fingers. She repeats the same ceremony for Rachel, placing Rach's hand in mine and setting our hands together onto my thigh. Since we are so close, I think, maybe there is no other place to put them. "Remember," Jasmine says, her eyes large, mischievous, "hold on to each other and no talking!" On the massage table, not four feet from us, is the form of a woman covered in a long soft towel. Suddenly, Jasmine removes the towel with a flourish and we are facing a bare naked beautiful woman, a statue of exquisite proportion in alabaster. I can't help but admire her flawless physique; she is a true goddess. She is so curvy and voluptuous that we can't help but stare, transfixed. Wow, wow, wow, I think. As if confirming my fascination with her body, she rolls over on her side and faces us, candlelight on fluffy blond pussy hair reflecting onto innocent college-girl eyes. (Yes, this innocence might seem like an exaggeration, especially if your view of college girls is defined from raunchy internet sites, but you had to be here, on this couch, in this mellow candlelight looking at this wonder: a woman in full.) "Hi, girls, I'm glad you're here. You are both in for a real treat: Jasmine is simply the best." Then she rolls back over onto her belly with a seductive smile as the blond pussy spotlight goes out. I can't open my mouth, I'm shocked. I want to tell Rach that we should go. This is way too intimate. But we promised no talking. Rach knows what I'm thinking, too, she looks right at me and nervously kisses my cheek, mouthing don't worry, then somehow snuggles closer, her whole leg now pressed against mine. Jasmine is wearing a red robe. Next thing we know--swish--no robe: Another beautiful body in front of our noses. Whoa...is it getting warm in here? "Don't fidget, girls,' Jasmine says, smiling. "May I have the pleasure of introducing you to my very dear friend, Miss Millie?" Miss Millie turns again to us—blond pussy flash! "Miss M this is Rachel whom you met at Georgie's and this is her roommate, Janie. I think this is Janie's first massage, no?" I nod, a little too quickly, wondering how she knows my name (this is the second time she's said it I realize). Maybe Rachel has already talked to her about me. Miss M smiles. You are in good hands, Janie. No worries. Enjoy my massage. Jasmine has wonderful hands and..." Miss Mille turns back, and then looks at me over her pale shoulder, "You'll see." Jasmine goes to a side table and takes a pearl-covered bowl and sets it between Miss M's legs, which she parts with a light caress along her inner thighs. "This is warm tea tree oil refined with a special herb to stimulate the flow of oxygen," Jasmine murmurs in our direction. "Tonight, you are my students, my vestal virgins, so to speak. I will teach you. It is my duty to teach you well," she concludes solemnly with a nod of her head. Rachel and I are absolutely attentive. I shiver a little, thinking if I could focus like this in class I'd be a fucking genius. (Language, Janie, shish! I feel so uninhibited here.) She rinses her hands in the oil, letting it drip along her fingers, while she whispers in Miss M's ear, "May I narrate as I go along, dearest? Will it disturb you?" Miss M's reply is a surprise, "Of course, but you must allow me to watch you massage them. I'll follow the same instructions you gave Rachel and Janie. I'll just hold my own hand or something, with no giggling. OK, girls?" she says, smiling impishly. Like two obedient children, we nod our heads. Jasmine continues the kindergarden charade by walking behind the love seat and kissing us both on the tops of our heads. As she does this, deft fingers slip beneath my collar and rub my neck, "Better loosen your blouse, love, we don't want any oil to stain it." She seems to be ambidextrous, undoing the first few buttons of Rachel's blouse while she leans over to me and does the same with mine. Her face is inches from mine. Shivers run up my body. I feel her breath on my neck. And I thought massages were supposed to be relaxing... Jasmine returns to the head of the table and stokes Miss M's hair. Her long fingers spread and nudge the scalp as they comb through it with each downward stroke. I don't notice this at first because all I can look at are her wonderful breasts: Full and perky, with perfect dark nipples. Light shines along ebony mounds as she moves her exotic body up and back; with each stroke, she extends her reach from the top of Miss M's head to her shoulders and then her back and then all the way down the soft slope to Miss M's bottom. Back and forth, until she is nearly prone, the tips of her breasts pressed into Miss M's back. And then her face--hmm!--her full wide lips and now the tip of her dark narrow nose seem to rest in the white valley of Ms M's perfect ass. Wow! I think, my eyes wide, I hope she had a bath! Jasmine, who seems to be a mind reader, resumes her narration. "Before we begin a massage, I bathe my clients. So if my lips or nose should happen to land, well, anywhere, we will always feel comfortable." She is on the upstroke as she says this and then she slides all the way down Miss M's body and pauses, turns to wink at me and then sticks out a long curved pink tongue and plunges it between Miss M's cheeks. I only breathe after Miss M stops moaning and Rachel releases her clamped hand from my thigh. We shyly turn to look at each other, dazed. Jasmine continues matter-of-factly, "Each stroke flows from head to bottom so that the blood flows freely with the vibrations of my hands and the touch of my body and, yes, sometimes the kiss of my lips. My finger tips are like small nibbling fish gliding along her wonderful body which is like the ocean itself, bringing these kisses life. Two kisses this time land now in slow secession on each perfectly plump cheek. Her full red lips are open and blend their lushness with those pale hills and then move a bit as a pink tongue swirls. The tips of Jasmines nipples are much more pronounced now as is her psychic ability. "A true massage is like a lovers embrace, like kisses all over a yearning body." She moves around the table until she is opposite us and watches our reaction. Rachel, my now hesitant guide, is blushing, her light color now a high pink flush. (Maybe we are in the same boat here, I think. She must not have gotten the full treatment when she was here before.) Squeezing my hand and rubbing her damp fingers on my palm, she is as nervous as I am. "Some people think a massage should be relaxing and that is true...but only afterwards. Is that not so, Miss M?" Miss M murmurs, "Yess" whether in response to the question or Jasmines constantly moving fingers, now among the mounds of her ass, now between her legs, now lightly skimming along the sides of her body, lingering on the pressed folds of her breast, gold fish nibbling. I am breathing ok now as Jasmine moves to the foot of the table and says, "Each of my movements flow with the rivers of muscle unseen beneath the flesh of this beautiful body. Sometimes I press lightly..." and her lips gently graze the entire length of Miss M's leg. "And sometimes I press firmly, changing modalities to stimulate the underlying nerves and muscles." Her fingers are now kneading the length of first her left and then her right leg. As she is doing Miss M's left leg, Jasmine's back is to me and her dark lustrous bottom is only a foot or so from my face. I watch her muscles flex and her firm flesh glisten with each movement. I wonder if she covers herself with oil before she starts. The valley between her bottom is so dark and oddly inviting I am ashamed to think of it (but I have miles to go before I sleep, I quote to myself nervously). She leans over to do both legs at once, her hand doing a circular move with a little flip that looks quite professional. As Rach and I stare helplessly, her legs part: we are mesmerized by the strong sweet tangy smell and the line of moisture we can now clearly see along the pink flower, the petals of her pussy. I shudder, never realizing until now how beautiful a woman can be down there. When Jasmines breaks the trance and moves farther up Miss M's body, we still watch but now we notice each other. The sheen of tears in Rachel's eyes is like my shy smile as I squeeze her damp hand and then lightly kiss her cheek. As my lips touch, she turns so that my kiss is now on her lips-- how soft! I can't help but linger which she takes advantage of, playfully swiping her tongue so that we are both wet-lipped, full of heat, eyes open looking at each other anew. (Thank you, Rach, you dog!) When we look away, as we must, we are startled to see Jasmine and Miss M smiling at us. Jasmine has somehow moved to the other side of the table and is looking at us with her face pressed against the side of Miss M's. Their mischievous eyes are like an odd set of fraternal twins, white and black, soft and deep, sweet and tangy, invitation and mystery. Jasmine asks Miss M, "Should I be your envoy, my lonely queen?" "Yes," Miss M replies, "please give them each a special kiss from the queen. Also, I think it is too hot for them here: They should undress...hmm...slowly." "Your wish" Jasmine replies and comes round the table toward us. Taking her time, giving me a heart attack; I watch her sensuous movements as she comes toward us trailing her fingers along Miss M's willowy leg. She knells in front of us and reaches out to me, her fingers now in my hair, cupping the back of my neck leaning me forward into the vortex of beauty that is the wonder of her dark waiting eyes and sweet breath. Hot full lips press and enfold mine. Soft! Then softer, then fuller and in goes her wet warm tongue, into my open willing now hopelessly wanton mouth. Oh my fucking god! After a while, it seemed like forever, she pulls back and lets me breath through panting lips. I am bewitched. I am hers, I cannot think, I only feel, whatever she wants. Then she asks me to help undress Rachel because "It is so hot in here, isn't it love." Followed by another poaching kiss just long enough to make me want another and another. She takes my hands and moves them to Rachel's blouse all the while stroking Rach's face. I unbutton each button nervously and hope Rach is not as embarrassed as I am by her wetness (this couch needs a towel, I think, amazed at this predicament). Jasmine leans over to me and winks, whispering, "I'll wash each of your lovely wet panties, don't worry one little bit, girls." I shiver. Finally, I tug the blouse from Rachel's skirt. She leans forward, overwhelmed, and rests her head on my shoulder, trembling, as I take the blouse off and reach around her to undo her bra. Jasmine smiles--a teacher watching her student's first ballet--and on the table Miss M looks on, turned on her side, flashing her pretty pussy again. I know by the movement of Rach's cheek on my shoulder that she is watching Miss M too. Jasmine lifts up Rachel's head and holds her flushed face. They are inches apart. I have a front row seat. Miss M is in the balcony. We look at them like the moon looks at the sun, dependent on what comes next. Jasmine's eyes are smiling and kind, but hot enough to bask in. Rachel is now somehow like my younger sister, shy and inexperienced, a virgin waiting before the heat of her lover. I want what is best for her. I give her what my quivering lips want. I give her my Jasmine. Rachel and Janie's Magical Massage, Part 2, Janie Finds Her Place Jasmine leans into Rachel as she leaned into me. I can see Rach's lips trembling with anticipation. As Jasmine is about to kiss her, she turns to me and says, "Would you please be the one to bring her home, Janie? Kiss your friend just like I kissed you." I am still for what seems like a long time before I sigh and reach out to Rachel and say, "This is all your fault, you know. All this kissing and being here and being bewitched, so you have to pay. I am going to kiss you until you weep with desire, but I am not going to...do more...to make you come or even let Miss Jasmine or Miss M help you to come." Then I kissed her just like Jasmine taught me all mouth and heat and wet tongue until I thought we would both pass out. Rach is stunned. She is shaking. Her hands are all over me, almost like I am a lost child. Touching me, hugging me, stroking me as though she can't believe I am here. Maybe I am bewitched--how could I have learned to kiss her like that? Why am I, a shy eighteen-year old, suddenly the dominant one? I pull her to me and let her burrow her head onto my breast. I stroke her silky red hair, frizzy now from the heat or maybe the passion crackling in the air. I kiss her ear and then lick it, pushing my tongue into the dainty canal. Jasmine is watching her handiwork, pleased by how quickly all or our defenses have fallen. She says, "Now you'll really have the best massage, Janie. Just like Rachel promised." Rachel & Janie's Massage I stare at her, my eyes like arrows aiming for her heart. She gets up from her knees suddenly and sits on my lap her legs straddling Rach. She wiggles her butt and asks Miss M if we don't all make an adorable threesome. Miss M smiles at us and says she can't wait. I wonder what she can't wait for even though I think I know, pretty sure it is part of this river of wetness between my legs. Jasmine gets lightly to her knees and teasingly asks Miss M if she does't think the cookies are baked, whatever that means. Then she plunges her face right into my crouch, almost like a dog will sniff you in that embarrassing way that usually happens when other people are around. She breathes deeply and then tilts her head up and looks at me as I stare at her. That electric impulse from eye to eye is like some strange invisible sigh... Then she takes her face away and says, "The oven is hot and doughy and smells delicious." She leans over to Rachel and kisses her deeply, licking a tear that strays down her cheek. "Do you think Janie's oven is ready?" Jasmine moves back a step and helps Rach knell in front of me. Miss M leans over the side of the table, fluffs up the skirt Rach is wearing, and strokes her bottom. She is so gentle and wistful that I am jealous, wanting those carefree fingers to caress me too. Jasmine places a hand on Rach's back and another across her breasts. "Breath in deeply," she whispers, "smell how sweet your friend is," and guides her face between my legs. I feel her against the thin cotton of my skirt. I feel her as she wiggles her head and snuggles in deeper. I feel her breathe in deeply. I reach down and stroke her hair, hardly breathing myself while I wait for what comes next. Jasmine, the conductor of surprises, takes a detour from what I fear but hope will happen. (What if my lovely room mate really does put her mouth where I want her to?) "So the bread is rising and the oven is hot, but let's not go too fast girls. Rach take your cute little blushing face from between Janie's legs before she pulls up her dress and squeezes you until you won't ever want to let her go." Like the mind reader I now know her to be, Jasmine quotes my earlier thought, saying, "Who was that poet, Janie, that said we have miles to go before we sleep." "Frost." I say, and then I pinch her ear lightly: "You are so tricky, Jasmine." My fingers walk across her face and stroke her cheek and then caress the smiling seam of her mouth. (What am I doing? I am so not this aggressive.) Miss M says, "Janie is a quick study. I hope Rach can keep up. Rach answers by capturing Jasmine and I in a firm head lock that brings the three of us pressed together in a long three-way kiss. Tongues become entangled with lips, licking pink wet folds and finding warm caves with abandon. I feel slippery wetness everywhere and then the pouty fullness of their mouths and now I am doing the tasting and the licking myself. "Very nice, Rachel. I knew we could count on you!" Miss M says, when we come up for air, all tousled hair and panting chests. "You all enjoyed that, didn't you, my lovely sluts." Jasmine changes roles and looks shyly at me. She kisses Rach on the nose, telling her "Thank you, sweetheart. I hope we are all lovers, lusty sluts together for a long, long time." Miss M giggles, "Me too." Jasmine stands up then and stretches her long lean naked body. This is all good from a few feet away but she is in fact right in front of two oh-so-horny girls; girls who are both mouth level with the smooth shaved pussy we now see inches from our faces. Rach looks at me questioningly, I look back with gleaming eyes. We both smile and reach for the prize. Jasmine must know the affect she has on us. Instead of skittering away she widens her legs and thrusts her hips toward us. We ponce like kittens to the milk. I feel Rach's cheek on my cheek as both our mouths lavish Jasmine's pussy. Our arms are wrapped around Jasmine's butt pulling her even closer. I don't know if this is a first with Rach, but for me that tangy smell and the salty wetness of those slick fleshy pussy lips brand themselves on my virgin memory. I close my eyes and feel my mentor by my cheek doing just what I am doing, making Jasmine quiver. And quiver she does, her legs undulate, her hips thrust, we are riding a wet wave, surfing, cheek to cheek in the wet wild pinkness between her legs, where time is a slippery memory of some place far away before we came to this heaven where lust is an angel, wings fluttering, where heat fuses us, where... Suddenly, our faces are dripping and gooey. Jasmine has stopped moaning. Instead, she mews, a satisfied purr, and lifts us both up and is licking our faces. Then we are licking each other, all three faces pressed again together, tangy with the juice of our lovely Jasmine. Miss M is off the table wrapping us in her arms and pressing her warm body around us, saying over and over, "Lovely! Lovely! Lovely!" Rachel & Janie's Magical Massage Part 3, Humming Makes Her Happy After our first taste of pussy, Jasmine returns us to the purple love seat so that we can, as she says, cool down. Rach and I are leaning back, shoulder-to-shoulder, exhilarated, bewildered, and anything but cool. Jasmine moves behind us and rubs our shoulders and caresses our faces, saying, "Now we'll continue the massage and as we do, you'll better appreciate some of the finer nuances. You already know what a well placed tongue can do, but there is more. I'll try not to bother you too much, tempting as it may be, so that you can concentrate. I want you to think about what I'll do to you when it is your turn to be massaged." So we are left to our own devices, watching Jasmine continue her attentions on Miss M. I am thinking of my threat to not let Rach cum because of getting me into this...this situation. Rach has other things on her mind. Her hand on my leg is moving to my hem and then slipping under my skirt. Tentatively, it rests on my leg. I can feel the tension of those deft fingers readying, I think, to spring to my pussy. I rest my hand on top of Rachel's and squeeze it through the cotton. In her ear, I whisper, "I'm the only one whose hand will touch pussy and the only pussy I touch will be yours." Rach looks at me with longing and sighs, removing her hand and resting it in mine on top of my skirt. She kisses my cheek. I move her right hand to mine. My left hand slips down the front of her skirt. I watch her eyes widen, as I rest my fingertips on top of her mound. Jasmine told us not to talk, but I can't help but lean into Rach's ear again, first with a tongue and then with a taunt, "I hope you are ready to squirm, Rach, because I'm still want to drive you crazy." (Even though I'm only teasing her to get even for putting me in this predicament, I'm still really--wow--actually touching the silky wetness of her panties--touching someone else's pussy all on my own!) Jasmine says, "Girls!" and we turn to watch her lightly touch Miss M. Her fingers glide along as before, dipping into warm oil and onto warmer flesh. Dip and swirl, dip and swirl, hypnotically, kneading and stroking. As she does this, she starts to hum almost below the threshold of hearing. The glide of her hands synchs with that cunning hum until it seems as though time somehow stops amid all the motion and the slippery sound of oil on flesh. Miss M starts to hum in tune with Jasmine. Before we know it, Jasmine's hum has captured us, too. I hear the faint sound emanating from Rach who now rests her head on my shoulder. I feel it begin at my lips and then reverberate down my spine, hover at my tailbone, and flow into the neither space between anus and vagina (to a chakra, I think, how tricky of you Jasmine). Jasmine smiles, "That got your attention, didn't it, girls. My hum along with Miss M's created a harmonic. Just as yours did, Rach, with Janie. Maybe you've heard the term 'waves of pleasure.' Now you'll know what it means first hand." I'm thinking there is more magic to it than Jasmine lets on, but what do I know, all I can do is feel that swell, those vibrations working on my nether region. I start to tap Rach's pussy, slowly but somehow in tune with the hum. Rach raises her head and her eyes plea with mine. I continue my gentle tapping. My finger tips get wetter and dip into the fold of her panties deeper. Rach's eyes burn. I kiss her nose and wet the edge of her nostril with the tip of my tongue. She moans. I mouth wordlessly, 'Don't you dare come!' and press my fingertips hard, stretching her silk panty deep into her slit. She whimpers. Jasmine swings around the table again, pausing her glistening ass in front of us, like she did before. She wiggles tempting us. Her butt swells to meet us. I node to Rachel and glance at Jasmine's ass. She shakes her head. I node again, jiggling my fingers this time, and then take my hand out of her skirt and place my wet fingers to her lips. My god, how she licks them! My right hand steadies Jasmine. She continues to hum. I nudge Rach forward, whispering "go on, you know you want it!" Clear white skin, blushed in rose, silky red hair, and wet lips bury themselves into the valley of Jasmine's glorious blue black ass. I reach down the front of Rach's skirt, now with my right hand, and cup her pussy while I press her head forward. She doesn't resist, she can't resist. She pauses after an endless while and lifts her head. I see the dark crater of Jasmine's pink rosebud wet from her tongue. Rach's expression seeks approval for her efforts. I lean forward and kiss Rach, my tongue eager between her lips. Rach moans and then invites me with her eyes to taste Jasmine. To share in her pleasure. I bury my face into those dark cheeks and push my tongue deep into her ass and feel Jasmine press back into me to get as much of me into her as she can. Her curly rosebud already wet with Rach's laving, opens and I feel myself...inside. Now this is certainly a place I never expected to be, crosses my mind just as Jasmine reaches behind to stroke the back of my head, urging me in deeper. Her fanny hugs my cheeks, exquisitely pressed into their warmth, holding my tongue in an earthy cave of unlikely delight. Miss M continues to hum while Jasmine wiggles her hips as Rach and I take turns pleasuring her. I think I feel a shudder or two, but I am lost, eyes closed, in that valley of wonderful darkness. Finally, Jasmine turns and looks at us with a big wide smile, she is panting, "Had your fill, sweethearts?" We sheepishly nod our heads. My jaw aches and my lips are numb. Rachel's lips are so puffy I pat them with my fingers to see if she is all right. Jasmine leans down to hug us, "It may not be obvious what with all Miss M's humming and my wiggling, but you all--the dynamic duo--made me come--so many times. Your eagerness should be rewarded. If you keep this up, I might teach you all of the fine art of massage! Think I should train these reckless virgins, Miss M?" Miss M says she's not sure--she only has second hand knowledge of just how reckless we are. Jasmine smiles and pats Miss M on her bottom. Then she helps her sit up on the massage table. Without a preview, Jasmine wonders how Miss M can help her decide. We watch wide-eyed, unblinking, as Miss M is led to our love seat: Beautiful woman presented by black goddess! She is much taller standing up. Her finely toned legs are long and slim and smooth. Her pussy is so close now we can see the highlights of the individual blond fluffy hairs, tantalizing on the bump of her pussy: Inviting and pure like the pout of an innocent girl. I want to touch its gentle curve but my reverie is interrupted when Jasmine asks Miss M to pick, front or back? Miss M says it is Rachel's turn so Jasmine guides Rach to the place of honor, and helps her knell in front of Miss M. Enviously, I watch as Rach's nose is now but an inch from those glistening blond hairs. She is like a bird dog, still and intent on the prize so close before her. (Rach was irritated when she read my diary--a bird dog! You compared me to a beagle? You know what I meant, a cute wet-nosed puppy. You have to admit your nose did get really wet...) Then Jasmine takes my hand and places me on my knees facing the white mounds of Miss M's pristine ass. We are now the front and the back, woman sandwiched between girls. Rach reaches between Miss M's parted legs and nervously takes my hand. I squeeze it. We hold on tight. Jasmine is on her knees now at Miss M's side. She reaches out her long arms and rests them on the backs of our heads, idly stroking our damp hair. I feel her fingers gently cup my head, kneading my skull, as she begins her seductive humming and nudges us forward until we can no longer hesitate, can no longer prolong our hearts desire, and quickly bury hungry mouths into Miss M. I feel Rachel's lapping tongue from the movements of Miss M's bottom as it presses against my cheeks. Rach must feel my licking too. We wrap our arms around Miss M and fondle each other, smothering ourselves in the heady scent of Miss M. Jasmine steadies Miss M spreading her legs even wider. Rach's wet chin touches mine as we lap at Miss M every which way. Our tongues are slick between her juicy flesh. The taste of Miss M and Jasmine is like a selection of velvety wine: Jasmine, a Pinot Noir, Miss M, a Pinot Blanc. We go on and on, rivers of silky wetness make our faces slick, dampens noses buried deep, and drips from trembling chins. Too soon we are clinging to the trembling Miss M as she starts to come. The hum becomes a moan, the moan becomes a wail; I can feel the shivers of pleasure tumble down her body, and then with a single violent shudder she calls out, "Yesss!" "Guess she knows first hand now," smirks Jasmine as she holds Miss M to keep her from falling (swooning would be more like it). I duck my head between Miss M's legs, still spread wide; as I feel the warm squishy wetness of her pussy fitted against my bare neck, I kiss Rach eagerly on her wet lips. "I forgive you, I want you, oh, oh, how I want you!" . Rachel & Janie's Magical Massage Part 4, A Trip to Somewhere Soon We are standing now hugging each other, aglow in the afterglow. Jasmine, smiling, her rich voice purring. "After all the pleasure you two have given us, the hour is late. You do need time to get to know each other." She says with peculiar emphasis. "When you to come back maybe you will be bonded enough so that we can tell you our story, while we refresh your bodies with our fabulous massage." Oddly, they both curtsy together like twins after a bravado performance. Jasmine points to another, larger massage table across the room, big enough for two. It is surrounded in sheer, translucent silk, colorful saris hanging in strips. It looks like an alter, inviting and mysterious. "On that table, Miss M and I will initiate you into the wonders of who you are meant to be. We'll call it a massage for forms sake, but we think of it as a beginning." "No need to make an appointment," Miss M says, winking, "when you are ready, we are ready." Jasmine helps us dress, "Leave the wet panties girls. I told you I'll wash them for you." I hold Rach's arm so she can step out of her panties. She reaches down for them and then slips around me, giggling, to rub them in my face. They smell tangy and inviting. (God, what a lez I've become.) Jasmine slips my panties off from under my skirt, her fingers glide along my bare hips, dimpling me here and there, tease that she is. She sniffs them deeply, grins, and then pushes them into Rach's face who laughs, bits hold of them with gleaming teeth, and presses her panty clad face into mine for a playful kiss. "You two were a little tipsy when you walked here in the dark from Georgie's. Not such a good idea, especially this late. So we'll drive you to the dorm in style. The drive will be a treat, wait and see!" We finish dressing, while Jasmine and Miss M put on their clothes. We follow them down a hall to a small elevator with a gleaming bronze door. For such a run down building, the interior is rich and unexpected. We take the ornate elevator to the first floor. When the door opens, the room brightens. Recessed lights illuminate a huge ballroom with high ceilings, a fine wooden dance floor gleams in the soft light. Cafe tables surround its perimeter, a small stage is to the left. At the other end of the room, high double doors of bevelled glass reveal an anteroom where, strangely, a long black car sits. When we open the bevelled doors, we notice the outer, ordinary looking garage doors as they begin to roll up. The car starts and lights turn on. From the drivers side, a impish girl--a blonde--jumps out and skips toward us; she doffs her elf-like hat and bows extravagantly. "Hello, Jenna!" Jasmine says happily, and lifts her up, whirls her around--she is like a petit waif--and offers her smiling face to each of us. Miss M kisses her and turns her toward me, saying, "She likes tongue, Janie." Sure enough the imp latches onto me to suck face like a starlet in heat. She does the same to Rach who giggles. "Off we go," Jasmine says as we climb into the big limousine. Later we will come to know this car intimately, but for now I am taken with its luxury. Plush seats face each other, a walnut paneled bar is molded to the side, draped tinted windows shelter us from prying eyes, and mellow high fidelity music surrounds us as in a concert hall. The slight purr from the big engine, lets us know we are moving, along with Jenna's conductor-like announcement, in falsetto, "Next stop is the dorm. Home of the girls I like to kiss." and sings, Miss them soon, Miss them in their cozy room, Miss them in the moon aglow, With their bodies ripe and full, Dancing to the silver, all dewy and slow." A serenade like that, gliding through the dark in a black limousine with odd promises of intriguing things to come: I wonder what's going on here. As I muse, I've forgotten about Jasmine's mind reading. A gentle arm slips around my shoulders, she leans into me, warm breath on my cheek: "No worries, baby girl, nothing bad this way comes, as they say; there is no evil here, no devils, no vampires, just us...girls." She is alluding to my fear when I first walked up the steps to their loft in the dark old brick building we have just left. Rach is across from us listening intently, her eyes trusting and full, but alert, "Are you sure, Jasmine? Janie is more than just a friend. She is really special to me. I brought her to you because I wanted you to meet her because you're special to me, too." Jasmine nods and reaches out to Rach, drawing her over so that she is sitting beside us. "What a good time we all had together," Jasmine says. "There'll be many more good times to come (pardon the pun) and that old building might even become your home. When you are with us, you are where love is. Yes, I know it seemed like hot, to-die-for, sex, but that is just the start of good things to come. Where love is, there is nothing in the world to fear. There is no room for fear; the bright light of Jasmine and Miss M and Rach and Janie, all together, just makes the dark disappear." "What about the humming?" "Hmmm...when you are ready. Most things that seem like mysteries are understood when there is...harmony. Harmony brings about the right attitude--an attitude gives your little twitching pussy insight a deep dark primal POW!--That was easy, why didn't I feel like that before." "So," she goes, "when you go home tonight and sleep in each others arms, tired but content, waking up refreshed and ready for the day to come. Don't worry about that little quiz, Janie. Rachel will wake up to the warm comfort of your arms wrapped protectively around her body. You will feel Janie's fingers fluttering in your silk hair down their, stroking and stroking, belonging there, almost a part of your body now, and you will know all is right--the two of you together being as it should be." Rachel & Janie's Massage "So Jenna is driving our big fine car." Jasmine laughs as she settles back in the plush seats, her fingers kneading my shoulders playfully. "But here is a secret. This big fine car is a figment of imagination and intent. We make it happen. People who glance our way on these dark streets mostly don't notice the car and, if they do, all they see is an ordinary sedan. Not much to take note of for them, as we wind our way to your dorm in the lap of luxury." Miss M smiles and adds, "Like that decrepit old building, we like to avoid notice. We like to live below the threshold of what others know; what others might envy. We like to keep our secrets safe. You wouldn't be here if we didn't trust you, Janie. And your girlfriend--soon to be lover, soon to be soulmate--could not have brought you to us if we didn't already feel the connection." "How did Rachel find you?" Rach snuggles into me, "They found me in Georgie's. First it was just Jasmine, sitting by herself in one of those round booths that face the dance floor, sitting in the middle just like a queen. It was in the afternoon. I never go to Georgie's in the afternoon. But there I was sitting at the bar, feeling conspicuous because I was the youngest girl in the bar." Jasmine interrupts, "You were the only girl in the bar. You were a little puffed up, trying to be cool, but I knew you were scared to be there by yourself--for the first time." "Don't tell Janie my secrets," Rach says. "I was scared. I'd heard about Georgie's and wanted to check it out during the day...on the sly." "Yeah, you were sly alright, you were a shy southern white girl with a plantation full of forbidden memories. When Miss M swept in, all head-turning blond glow, you stared and stared as she curled-up onto my lap and gave me one of her big wet kisses, all smoochy, long and noisy." "God, I thought that was so hot," Rach says, "It's true I do have some plantation memories, as you put it, because I was shocked...and secretly thrilled." "There was no secret girl, Miss M and I knew you wanted to join us when your mouth dropped open." Jasmine laughs and hugs Rach. "Tell Janie what I did next." "What a trip," Rach says, "I was trying not to stare, I turned back to the bar and was sitting just so, but my eyes were glued to the mirror. And then it happened, Miss M got up and stood and slowly stretched. You looked like a sleek black leopard about to eat something. Then you started walking toward me, in that sexy, come hither way you have and I just couldn't move, couldn't breath. Closer and closer you got until your face was right next to mine and our eyes were staring at each other in the mirror." I reach across and hold Rach's hand. She goes on, "You were so close, almost touching me, and I could see my face blushing right there in the mirror, turning pink. You were so close I could feel little shocks of electricity arching between us. Closer and suddenly your hot cheek was pressed against mine. It felt as natural as my hand slipping into a silk glove. And then you smiled that warm all-is-forgiven smile and said, 'It's lonely in here, come and join us, won't you please.' You could have ordered me to get down on my knees right then and there, but instead you were the perfect lady. You captured me!" As the car winds its way home, I realize how much I need to talk to Rach alone. What is this! I feel like destiny is a warm arm, welcoming around my shoulder. There by someone else's choice, but somehow right, as though I would in fact have chosen these pleasant stroking fingers for my own. Soon we arrive at the circular drive outside our dorm, the place is nearly deserted this late except for a few girls siting on the top step, smoking. They look at us funny as we get out of the car to hugs and kisses from Jasmine, Miss M, and Jenna who has come around to open the door for us. The girls on the step watch us. Finally the car drives away and we walk up the steps. When we pass the girls, they look at us like we're weird, "Who was that in that junk heap? Better be careful who you get a ride home with!" "We will!" knowing as we say it that Jasmine's magic is real. Rachel & Janie's Magical Massage, Part 5, In Our Room In the dorm, Rachel and Janie stumble into their room. Rachel turns on the small desk lamp. They sit across from each other, in the shadows, on their respective beds. Each looks exhausted but excited at the same time. They lean on the wall beside their beds and face each other warily. Rachel is worried that Janie will hate her in the morning after she has escaped the magic and remembers all that happened. Janie doesn't hate Rachel. She just wants to understand all these sensations; she wants to know more about the emotions that rushed through her, topsy-turvy, with each new pleasure every time a woman's hand not her own touched her. She is feeling naughty but nice, very nice, indeed. "Rach?" "Yes," "What secret didn't you want Jasmine to tell?" "Secret?" "Ah huh." Rach sighs, knowing she can't hold anything back from her new best friend, her new lover. "I told Jasmine not to tell you I'm a virgin, too. I went to Georgie's in the afternoon last week to see if I could get up my nerve to go there at night. I heard it was a hot lesbian bar. I was curious." "Did Jasmine give you a massage when you met her?" "She did, but there was no sex, none at all. She was very...almost maternal, she made me feel refreshed and unafraid of being touched by a woman. It was my first massage by anyone!" "Was Miss M there?" "No, she left shortly after Jasmine introduced us in the bar. It was still intimidating, sitting between two beautiful super hot women. They knew it, too. Winking, they would reach past me and caress each other: Very subtle, light touches, but sexy too. It was like they were gaging my reaction. Besides the great massage I wanted you to have, the other reason I invited you: I didn't want to be outnumbered." "Didn't help much did it?" Janie smirks. She stretches out, her legs are sprayed apart. Her skirt is ruffled at her knees. She is idly playing with the hem. "So we are both virgins.--Hey, how about boys, did you?" Even in the dim light, Janie can she that Rachel, her mentor, is blushing. Her face retreats a bit into the shadows, she says, "No not even boys. God knows they tried and I tried, but something would always distract me and then nothing would happen. Sometimes, I thought it was just bad luck. Here we were under the sheets, naked bodies wrapped around each other--his cock even wet against my stomach, for god's sake--but a doorbell rings, my sister calls up to me about a package and the mood is killed. The interruptions happened so ofter, I thought I was jinxed!" "So you wanted a guy?" "Maybe, but I was scared, too. Sometimes I think I unconsciously set up situations that would guarantee an interruption or some other excuse." "Do you still want one?" "Do you?" "Maybe someday." Janie hesitates, "Right now, I only want you..." Rach sighs, her blush deepens. Finally, she looks directly at Janie: "I only want you, too!" Janie fiddles with the hem of her skirt, "I want you but I want to go back, too, even if I have to share you. Is that OK?" "It's where we belong," Rach answers quickly, "where we will be accepted. I don't know what will happen, but I know deep inside, just like Jasmine said, nothing bad will happen. I wouldn't have brought you there, otherwise." "Thanks for looking after me, bad girl! We were so sexy together with them; you think it was just Jasmine's influence?" Janie is worried that together they will be washed out compared to the brilliance before amid those lush, sultry bodies. Rachel is stroking her thigh, her fingers playing with the folds of her skirt. Her eyes are in the light now, intent, glittering. Suddenly she says, "Let's play 'show and tell,' really it's 'show and do'--just do what I do!" "OK!" Janie grins and fans her skirt a little, giving Rach a glimpse of milk white thighs, waiting in the shadows of her skirt. Rachel begins unbuttoning her blouse, slowly, smiling at Janie, teasing open each button. Janie unbuttons her blouse, too, and times the undoing of each button, and smiles back, eyes locked on Rachel. Just to step it up a notch, she licks her finger tip and slides it in the open 'v' that slowly makes it way down her milky chest. After the last button, Rachel reaches inside her blouse and traces her fingers over the rise of her breast and strokes her nipple. It is already extended, aching to be free. "No fair!" Janie says, "You don't have a bra on, slut!" Rach laughs and says, "My sweet teenage virgin has a handicap, she can't find her nipple." "I can fix that" and Janie leans forward, unfastens her bra and slips it off, pulling it through her sleeve. "Strapless, huh?" "If you must know, I was going to leave it on during the massage, since...you know...I didn't know what to expect." 'Neither did I especially when I saw the naked Miss M on the table." "God, talk about a movie star!" Janie says, "And when she rolled over with that pussy just so...so there." "You won't take pussy's for granted after that, huh?" Janie pauses, "I like yours, too." "You didn't see it, did you?" "Not then--but, I did touch it. That was nice." "You were so dominant, Janie. Like you were bewitched. Remember how you whispered, you were the only one that would touch my pussy. Wow, I thought that was so hot." "I know, you got wetter." "I'm wet now, just remembering." "Me, too." "What are we going to do about it?" Rach scoots up and slips her skirt off: red pubic hair highlighted against wet panties. "Hey, how come you have panties on?" I slipped on a spare in the car when Jasmine was talking to you. "So prim and proper," Janie says. "Why do you carry an extra one?" "So I won't embarrass myself." "How?" "Well, sometimes I'll be daydreaming and 'damn, wet again!'. I'd use a pad, but I'm always forgetting to wear one." "Daydreaming about what?" "You." "Oh." "You are my wet dream, as the boys say." "That's why you were trying to get me to try on your fancy bras?" "Yeah, pretty lame, huh?" "From now on I'll be your favorite mannequin," Janie says and slips off her blouse, pausing at each breast, flipping the cloth with a little tease. "Very nice, but I happen to know you do not have any panties on--show me the pussy!" Rachel laughs. Janie reaches into her nearby dresser and gets a pair of ordinary cotton panties. She shimmies into them under her skirt. Rachel frowns. Very slowly, button-by-button, she undoes the skirt. At each button, she licks her finger and slides it into the next dark gap in the fabric, staring all the while into Rachel's eyes. You are so sexy, maybe I will call you Miss J in honor of you-know-who. I want to be the tongue that follows your horny finger, Janie." "Funny, I was thinking the same thing." The skirt is open now, splayed along her white legs, at the center of which is the white panty, a damp spot already spreading in the middle. "So," says Rach, as she fingers the seem of her panties, first one side and then the other. Dipping a finger in the middle where it is very, very wet, she says, ''see what I mean? Imagine me thinking of you and your wet white panty while sitting in Bio 210. The only biology I would be thinking of is my own uncontrollable body--and, not to forget," she giggles "--your puss." "Before this white panty, what else did you dream about?" "Remember when we showered together with that girl from Singapore?" "Yes! The one with all the hair--it was a forest down there. I tried not to look, but..." "Well, while you were posturing around trying to be indifferent. I got to watch your slippery ass, especially when you crossed your legs, puffing it up, making it so inviting." "It was a reflex, I was hiding myself just like I imagined she must have wanted to." "I'm sure she would have appreciated the gesture, but Lena in 301 said she saw another girl on her knees buried to her ears in that pussy. There was too much hair to see who it was. Lena managed to slip away unnoticed from the shower." "Was it a redhead?" Janie teases, and slips both fingers under the edges of her cotton panties, "these might be a little big for you, Miss Skimpy Panty, but they are so comfortable, if you didn't sleep in the nude, you might like them." "How do you know I sleep in the nude?" Rach asks. "OK, here is my true confession, don't make fun of me: After you go to sleep, sometimes I turn that light on like I have to study some more. The light is dim but it makes you restless, so you move around without waking up. I tug on the sheet here and there to look at you, naked, revealed to me like a ripe peach. Your smooth skin goes on for miles and I just stare, wondering about what I'm doing, nervous you might wake up. But I can't stop staring. You are so beautiful, Rach, asleep, innocent, your cute red-haired puss snuggled between your legs, peaking out." "I touched you once, improperly." Rachel says suddenly, her turn to confess. "I couldn't help myself. Your sheet was twisted between your legs and you were rolled over on your stomach. Those white panties had slipped into the crack of your pale ass and your perky round butt was just there--wanting some attention. So I leaned over (my heart was beating like a drum) and pressed my trembling lips right on the center of your cheek, gently because I don't know what I would have done if you were to wake up. I really didn't want you to think your mentor was a perv." "But now we know, we're both pervs!" giggles Janie, relieved to be free of her secrets. Her fingers glide along the edges of her panties. Then with one hand she pulls the cloth taunt stretching it down the center of her slit, saying, "So were my panties bunched up like this?" A sigh escapes Rachel, "Yes but only your bottom was showing. I don't think I would have had the nerve to kiss your pussy." "If you should see this sleeping pussy, with or without my big white panties, you always have my permission to kiss it," smiles Janie, "but not this very minute." "Not this very minute?" Rach says and takes her panties and bunches them up like Janie's. "Not even when my pussy is so wet, I'll have to change the sheets?" "You can sleep here. I'll put a towel under you. Thank god we wash our own sheets." "Can I sleep there now?" "Nooo!" "Why not? "I think I need to wear you out first or I'll never make it to the quiz first thing in the morning." "How?" Rach says, a big smile on her face, as she watches Janie stroking her pussy, finger tips wet, her eyes never leaving Rach's. "Well, don't just sit there gaping, you have to do what I do, too." "Like this?" Rach says, her fingers slipping the panty aside and squeezing her outer folds. See my little puckered kiss for you, darling girl? This is how we do it down South, always kissing our friends." "This is your hot tongue," replies Janie, as she inserts her middle finger to the knuckle. "See it moves in and out all the while your lips are buried between these wet walls. Too bad, I don't have as much hair as your girlfriend from Singapore!" She demonstrates with her other hand stroking and preening her labia, first the outer, then the inner lips. "One cheek of your cute little face rests here and the other here!" "Are my cheeks wet?" Rach groans, she is getting close, all this damned anticipation is doing her in as she embellishes, "Will you lick them for me so that you can taste how sweet you are? Will you lift me up to your waiting lips so that you can taste your pussy on my face, on my lips, on my tongue?" Both girls are moving their fingers so fast, they can hardly keep up with each others groans as they get nearer and nearer. There fingers are slick, there thighs are wet, there eyes glassy. "No more!" Janie cries and Rach just hums, "Hear that hum, slut?" "Yes! Yes!" "That is me vibrating my parted lips firmly on your clitty, grazing it gently with a little tooth, just enough so that you know my tongue is next!" "Stop talking! Come here!" "Not until you come properly. I...ahhh...don't want a frisky...ahhh...virgin disturbing my beauty sleep." "Ooooo!!" Still panting, oh, oh, oh, big smile flowing, a sleepy sweet peace offering, Janie moans, as her trembling stills "Get in bed, your waiting is over. I want to hold you now!" Rachel & Janie's Magical Massage, Part 6, Miss Emily's Friend The next two weeks are filled with luscious sex. Every night they sleep together, snuggled chose, hands on each others pussy's, like a second skin all their own down there. Each never tiring from the touch of the other; wet finger tips an invitation to yet another long licking session ending so nosily their neighbors would bang the walls of their room. It became a dorm joke, one they finally got use to, enough to at least smile shyly about: Someone would pass them in the hall, giggling, "Get a room...somewhere, anywhere--ELSE!" In the shower they often embarrassed themselves by being interrupted from their touching and fondling. Once the girls were astonished to find they had an audience. Some of their dorm mates had erected an impromptu platform in the stall next to the showers. By standing on a bench supported by the toilet, they could peak out to an unobstructed view of the shower. The girls, as attested by a steamy internet video--one not permitted on YouTube, had gotten carried away again and were literally wallowing in each other, in a head-to-toe embrace. "69 and no yards to go" the video was called. A college town, especially in the moist, shall we say, fertile south, is more liberal then, say, a Southern Baptist church convention. Still, some traditions persist, namely the courting of handsome boys and comely girls. Those that flaunt these conservative norms risk a measure, sometimes a large measure, of ostracism. So, while their dorm mates might be liberal enough to tease them, they also liked to gossip, until soon one Miss Emily Hausenplat came to understand two uncommonly attractive lesbians were in the old Christmas Dorm, Room 308. She even had a video reportedly to prove it. The more she studied the video, the more irritated she became, frankly, by its lack of focus. (They must have the shower boiling. I wonder what the dorm's gas bill is.) She took to daydreaming and to looking wistfully from her first floor window at the pair as they walked, often hand-in-hand, arms swinging, to their courses. (How innocent and happy they look for miscreants.) Sometimes she frowned; sometimes she smiled. When she smiled, it was at the details of a plan. If her plan worked, another possibility lurked like the subtle whisper of a devil she thought dead and buried. Miss Hausenplat was 31 years old. No man had touched her in seven long years. Her fear of men was well established, she was known as a perennial old maid. Quite the beauty really, a bit prim, cold, and judgmental but not exceptionally so given her status as a dean. She tended to overdress and rely on formality, a shield against an empty world. To tell the plain truth, unvarnished in a closed society that viewed her as an oddity, her heart ached, ached for love, no matter from whom, but not, if she could help it, from a controlling man, a man who might judge her to his own advantage and use her accordingly. You can imagine, then, the temptation of two so beautiful girls as Rachel and Janie, unabashed lesbians let loose upon her college, now within the grasp of her influence. Her mind would not rest, the possibilities swam like vestal virgins naked before a heathen queen. So she hatched the plan, not villainous necessarily, for how can so long an ache not be rewarded under the heaven of a loving Goddess? There, nonetheless, pointed with an eagerness toward the girls, was a wisp of something following them down the lane as they made their way toward their first classes. Rachel & Janie's Massage Miss Hausenplat does not understand all the forces that be as she as about to meddles in the lives of our two heroins. Over the edge of her knowing are two, call them guardian angels, that await the return of their vacationing proteges. "We should go back soon, you know." Rachel says. "Yes," "When...?" Rachel interrupts this near constant reverie, "Do we know somebody named Hausenplat?" "I don't think so--wait isn't there a dean named Hausenplat?" "Yeah, something to do with discipline. How outdated to have a title with 'discipline' in it." "Well, we are in the Bible Belt.--Better watch out, you evil lezzy!" "Yeah, I'll watch that wet pussy of yours--closely!" "Anyway," Rachel reads, "we have an invitation to 4567 N. Pepperbridge Lane at 9:00 p.m. Tuesday for an 'interview' with Ms. Hausenplat." "Miss?" "Yeah, never married I heard somewhere." "Why so late?" Rachel asks, "Doesn't she think we sleep?" "We better go. My scholarship depends on the goodwill of this college. Especially now, since my grades are slipping almost as fast as my tongue into your pussy." Janie smirks. "Poor baby, I'm getting wet thinking about that tongue--soon I'll need to change these panties again, you slut!" "9 p.m. is still pretty late..." "Yeah...I miss Jasmine." "Me too." "So?" "What made you think of Jasmine now, since we've been studiously ignoring the pull of her and Miss M for the last two weeks?" Janie shrugs, and says simply, "Danger." Rachel understands immediately, "Ms. Hausenplat!" "Why don't we ask Jasmine what to do?" "I hope she isn't mad at us for ignoring her. God, it's not like we don't talk about them every night..." Rachel says. "To Georgies?" "Yep, let's see how clairvoyant our enchantresses are?" At Georgies, it is supper time. They are eating salads but want cheeseburgers. "What's up with this salad crap?" "No one made you order it." Rachel says. "I always dutifully follow the recommendations of my cute mentor." "Follow this!" Rachel says, giving her the finger and then extending it like a wand along the slope of her cheek. "Seriously, I didn't want to overeat...you know...in case." "Ah!" Janie giggles, "In case you had to get serious and suck major pussy!" "OK, so the thought of...did enter my mind. Last time was so exciting!" "It was!" "What was?" smiles Jasmine as she slides gracefully into the curved booth. Miss M and the vivacious, little Jenna join them on the other side. The girls light up with smiles. How wonderful to see them again! They realize what a hidden ache their absence was. Everyone is hugging now like long lost friends in from the cold. "Oh my, how we missed you!" they say, almost together. "We missed you, too!" Jasmine says, "but we wanted to respect your...ah...privacy." and sniggers delightedly. "I bet you were studying so hard you forgot all about us." Now she openly laughs, along with Miss M and Jenna, as they watch Rachel and Janie blush furiously, all of them happy to be together again. "How did you know to find us here?" Janie asks. "Big magic, little girl!" Jasmine says with a straight face, and then confesses, "Of course, Josie, the bartender helped too. She called us just like we asked her to, when two horny girls showed up with lonesome faces." "That's us, I guess." Rachel says, "We wanted to come sooner but, as you could tell, there were always distractions, wonderful distractions." "We never stopped thinking of you, if that helps." Janie says. "Then we got this weird invitation and we thought maybe we should talk to you about it." "It made you feel danger." Jasmine says and they are reminded of her uncanny mind reading skills. "Yes, danger." Janie says and shows her the neat little card with the invitation, handwritten in neat bold cursive. Jasmine looks at Miss M and asks, "Do we know a Hausenplat?" Miss M thinks for a minute and points to the card, "She's a dean, an unmarried dean, as I recall. She had a reputation for being repressed, standoffish. Daddy would wisecrack about her being an old maid at 25." Jasmine thinks, "So the repressed Miss H wants to meet our two lovely lesbians who so conveniently documented themselves on the internet." "We loved your latest picture!" Jenna giggles, "Hope you didn't get too many bruises from that tile floor." Jasmine looks at Jenna, "Speaking of acting, maybe our little scout needs to pay Miss H a visit...sort of warm her up. We have three days until the 'interview.' We'll go with you, I'll be your governess and Miss M can be your aunt. Jenna will be--well let's just say, a sight for sore eyes." Jasmine gets up from the booth along with her retinue, she winks at the girls. "After the interview, we'll attend to that massage you've so carefully put off." The girls nod eagerly. ------ On Sunday afternoon under a cloudy sky, on the porch of Miss Hausenplat's house stands little Jenna, adorable in a scout uniform, badges, ribbons, her blonde hair in pigtails, an innocent smile on her face. Miss Hausenplat answers the door. She is captured by the sight of Jenna who curtseys and broadcasts a wide impish smile. Under her arm are some rather tattered boxes of cookies. "Hello!" Jenna says, and extends her hand, Mary Kay all-the-way. Miss Hausenplat steps back, taken in by the lovely sight of the petite young girl with so much...presence. Jenna grabs hold of her hand, and carries her along into the hallway where she says, "Oh, thank you for inviting me in. I am so thirsty. Who knew selling cookies was so much work." Distractedly, Miss Hausenplat nods her head and walks with the girl into her sitting room. She is enormously conscious of the little girl's warm fingers clutching her hand. She gestures for the girl to sit on the couch. The girl gracefully drops onto the couch and crosses her legs at the ankles. Since the girl won't let go of Miss Hausenplat's hand, she finds herself sitting beside the girl aware now of the remarkably short skirt the scout is wearing, its hem resting mid-thigh on very sheer nylons. (I didn't know they wore nylons!) Jenna rubs Miss Hausenplat's hand and exclaims how smooth and silky her skin is. She asks her if she uses lotion, that her mother uses cocoa creme but the smell is yuck. "I wish I had skin like yours," she murmurs now tenderly stroking the back of Miss Hausenplat's hand, and then her wrist, and now her forearm in light strokes, the picture of innocent exploration. Inside Miss Hausenplat is quivering with temptation. How long it's been since someone has touched her and marveled about her appearance. How long since she's felt a warm body this close to her (and realizes with a start that Jenna has snuggled closer to her with the length of her body now actually touching, no pressing against hers. How did that happen!) Jenna continues to stroke Miss Hausenplat's arm. She is a practiced temptress, weaving a silky web barely glistening in the light, surrounding your passage. She lightly kisses Miss Hausenplat on the cheek, but her lips are wet and the kiss has a bit of a pout to it--another strand of that bedeviling web. Miss Hausenplat shivers, touches her cheek, and gets up suddenly, "Better get that water!" Her face flushed, Miss Hausenplat returns with a pitcher of water and two chilled glasses on a tray. As she sets the tray on the coffee table, her eyes follow the dark tunnel beneath Jenna's skirt to a silky white spot that winks back into darkness as Jenna shifts her legs and smiles widely, "Oh, thank you so much." Her voice is prim almost as though she is echoing the serious Ms. Hausenplat. The affect fades as Jenna stretches her arms over her head. As the girls fingers languidly toy with a stray lock of hair along the seem of pink flesh that parts her pigtails, Miss Hausenplat watches the curve of her breast become more pronounced and her skirt slide up farther over silken thighs. Now, Jenna smiles a new smile, like a flower from the shade into the sun, wondrously, openly, welcoming Miss Hausenplat to herself. Miss Hausenplat hesitantly looks into the girl's blue startled eyes, eyes that stare back at her suddenly wistful and confused. She sees the delicate slope of her nose, and the swell of sensuous lips curved and full. Her breath catches as the tip of Jenna's tongue slips out of pouty lips to reach a single drop of water, glistening on the edge of the glass she is extending to her lips. Then, as she stares in wonder at Miss Hausenplat, the glass falls from her hand and cold water splashes all over her blouse, puddling on her skirt, wetting an already excited pussy: the temptress is somehow smitten with Miss Hausenplat, for whom she longs, strange and unsettled. "Oh!" Miss Hausenplat says and grabs a napkin and tries to blot up the water from Jenna's chest. It is an unconscious act, really, nothing untoward or even seductive, just her heartfelt reaction. Jenna's response is all those things and more: she kisses Miss Hausenplat fully on her lips, hungrily capturing her face as she leans in to wipe away the water. Her kiss is wet and wild and unrestrained, filled with an intuitive will to free Miss Hausenplat from all the restraints these many years of solitude have built up around her heart--or elsewhere! Miss Hausenplat cannot help herself from responding. Suddenly they are both wet lipped and tongue lapped in wonder together, each well past a ledge from which they fall deliriously. There is no napkin now as warm fingers blot away the water from Jenna's heaving chest. "Take it off--please!" she pants, and struggles to undo the uniform's straps that hold her skirt. Freed, she slips skirt and panties down her silk stockings to puddle (literally) on the floor at her feet. Her legs are open now. Her pussy bare. She returns to Ms. Hausenplat with lips determined to own the unexpected sweetness of the month she finds ready and open, needy for her return. "Oh god! Oh god! Please don't hurt me," Ms. Hausenplat says her voice slurred with desire and wonder and worry. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to take advantage of you! It just happened!" Jenna strokes Miss Hausenplat face and kisses her nose like she might a child's. "Shhh, shhhh" she whispers, "my darling, you have nothing at all to worry about. I only hope you won't think badly of me for seducing you. I want us to be friends. I want us to be lovers. Please, please forgive me!" Jenna takes Miss Hausenplat hand and places it firmly between her legs onto her slippery mound. "Whatever else happens this is yours." She presses the hand again and forces one of Miss Hausenplat fingers into her hotness. "I don't no why I've just bonded with you, but there it is. Now and whenever: You don't have to worry about ever being lonely again. I want you so badly I'm making your dainty couch wet with my juices!" "You aren't a dream?" Miss Hausenplat is crying now, her tears fall onto Jenna's bare breast. Jenna leans into her and licks her cheek. Her tongue is warm; it stroke's Miss Hausenplat's face luxuriously, savoring her lovely skin, teasing her tears onto its tip. "I have to leave soon, my love. My heart will break if you disown me later." Jenna says ambiguously. "Before I do, I need to make you happy, so happy you will always come back for more." She smiles that big inviting smile again and turns to Miss Hausenplat. Her fingers stroke the tear stained face and wander down her neck to the blouse buttoned primly to the top there. With each button she licks a tear, saying, "When you are naked I will have washed away your tears and this tongue can attend to other things." Miss Hausenplat is breathless with anticipation as each button gives up its opening. She feels hopelessly wet herself, squirming helpless under the press of Jenna's fingers and the lick of Jenna's tongue. "Who...who are you?" "I'm Jenna! So pleased to meet you!" at this she pry's Miss Hausenplat's hand from between her legs and shakes it lightly and then brings it to her lips, kissing the back in the French manner. Not content with polite introduction, she takes each wet finger into her mouth to suck away the juices clinging to it. Letting her lips slowly encircle first the forefinger then the middle finger, she smiles mischievously "Well aren't you going to tell me your whole name Miss Hausenplat?" "Emily." "Emily?" "Yes..." "When I come back--soon, Emily my love--I will tell you how this innocent girl scout knows your name, until then..." Words give out as the blouse is finally opened, the bra undone to let beautiful milk-white breasts present themselves. The pinkness of unbridled excitement tints their soft mounds, mounds that grow as Jenna's lips kiss their curves until she is there at the nipple, lips pouted, tongue extended, eyes hooded with desire. She pauses to look up past her captive's chest to see the same desire burning there in Emily's eyes. (She said "my love!" She said "my love!") Permission given, she takes the nipple into her mouth to lick it then suck it, her hands busy fondling, expertly tweaking, until Emily can no longer think a single coherent "deanly" thought, until she is wet like a baby, until she is undone completely, now panting wildly, as Jenna's probing fingers find their mark, and play there...until heaven has come to earth, freeing her handmaiden. In the afterglow, Jenna helps Miss Hausenplat, her Emily, to get up from the couch where she is slumped like a well-used doll. Emily is dazed, for a moment she must have lost consciousness. She stares at Jenna's excited face whose pink cheeks shine like ripe apples. She sees how intently Jenna looks at her. Dreamily, on the contented waves of her massive orgasm, she wonders, no longer caring too much about the past, how long has it been since anyone--anyone at all--looked so lovingly, so hotly at me. Jenna puts her arm around Emily's shoulder and helps her to the bedroom. There she pulls down the covers and sets her charge slowly onto the bed. Kissing her lightly, her lips like butterfly wings, as she lays her down, gently lifting her legs onto the bed and finishes undressing her. In the nearby bathroom, she finds a wash cloth and soaks it in warm water. When she returns, Emily is staring up at her sleepily. Jenna kisses her lips lightly and goes on to give her a sponge bath. She looks curiously at Emily's beautiful curly red pubic hair and compares it to the drab brown hair on the dean's head, still set in a bun. She murmurs, "Soon you will be free my new, new love," and undoes the pins from Miss Hausenplat's bun. "My love..." Emily echoes with a contented smile, eyes closing. She feels a small warm body cuddle next to her. She knows it is Jenna from the silky nylons pressed against her thighs. She sleeps, soundly sleeps, as Jenna finally takes her leave ensnared, happily, in the web of her own seduction. Rachel & Janie's Magical Massage, Part 7, Knock! Knock! The porch light shines on two worried faces peaking in at the glass front door of the stately house on 4567 N. Pepperbridge Lane. No Jasmine, no Miss M, nor even Jenna are there to protect them from the ordeal of the "interview" with Miss Hausenplat. Squirming like novice Mormons ready to present their case for salvation, they ring the bell. Through the bevelled glass an unfamiliar figure walks toward them. They see splashes of color as a youthful woman, her hair a vibrant red, opens the door and smiles at them hesitantly. "We're here for the interview with Miss Hausenplat." Rachel says. "I'm Emily Hausenplat," she says. "You must be Rachel and you're Janie," looking from one girl to the other. "Please come in. I'm sorry about the lateness of this interview. I made a mistake. I tried to contact you for a more convenient time, but neither of you could be reached." "It's OK, Miss Hausenplat. We could come back...?" Janie adds hopefully. "You're here now, so why don't we chat? Don't be nervous. You'll be surprised about what I have to say. Come in..." They follow her into the ornate living room. She motions them toward a flowery sofa. "Have a seat won't you please, while I get us some tea?" In a moment, she returns with a tea service. "Please call me Emily. A few days ago, I would have been Ms. Hausenplat, a very formal and, I'm sorry to say, unyielding dean of discipline at Clemerson." She pauses watching the girls carefully. "Now I find we share a bond, and that I cannot chastise you without berating myself." She pauses, knells on the floor in front of the coffee table and pours the tea, cup after cup, slowly, a faraway look in her eyes, eyes that shine with barely concealed tears. Setting the pot down, she stairs at the steaming cups, lost in thought. Finally, she sighs, and looks at them, her eyes downcast, humble, "I could easily hide my mistake, offer you some platitudes, and return to the tortured existence I've led for many years." Rachel and Janie are like statues, stilled by the presence of something unusual: The possibility of an unvarnished truth. Unconsciously, they reach out to each other and hold hands. "After the gossip about your lesbian activities and that video, I had a plan. I think I wanted to seduce you but I'm afraid instead I might have wanted to coerce you--to force myself on you and take advantage of my position. Now no more plan. Instead, this 'interview' as I called it in my clever invitation is simply to apologize, to tell you I am truly sorry, to let you know you are free to go anytime." "I do wish..." she stops, runs her fingers through her hair distractedly, "I wish you would stay and talk to me, please, if you can forgive my bad intentions." The girls nod. As Emily hands a cup and saucer to each of them, the tea's shimmering surface belies her trembling hand. Janie looks at Rach and reaches out to gently to steady Emily's hand. "We'll stay as long as you want." Janie says looking into Emily's eyes. Rachel slides down to the floor until she is next to Emily. "Let's sit together here on the floor, like a Japanese tea ceremony." Janie joins her on the floor across the table. "Miss Hausenplat..." "Emily" "Sorry," Janie goes on, "Emily, we didn't mean to embarrass the school...sometimes we just can't help ourselves." "I know. You get so carried away the only thing you want is her body next to yours." Janie and Rach look at each other, startled, "Yes!" "So..." Janie says. "So, before I wanted to trick you into bed (believe me, I had no idea then what I would do with you once I got you there!), I still wanted to help you. Both of you are losing your academic edge. Your professors commented on this when I talked to them. We are a small elite college. We keep track of our students, especially those on scholarship." She stops and looks seriously at both of them: the dean is back! "A few days ago," she goes on, "I wouldn't have understood your dilemma. Now I do. You are on honeymoon. You simply can't keep your hands off each other." Janie and Rach eagerly nod their heads. "What should we do about it?" Emily say, her voice even. Refusing to be intimated, the girls giggle and say: "Broaden our horizons!" Then they playfully ponce on Emily, rubbing first her shoulders and then her hands, one for each girl. Startled, but soon delirious, Emily is afloat in sensation, in a dream come true... As they touch her (oh, to be touched! Again! Jenna! Jenna! Jenna!) they comment, "You are so beautiful." Exchanging sultry looks to tease Emily, they begin to choreograph their movements: a stroke here, gliding fingertips there ... A comment as fingers slip through silky hair "I love your hair"... A kiss on her slender pale wrist, another longer kiss on the other wrist ... Soon a forefinger is extended onto full pouty lips, then another finger to another waiting mouth, soon each girl is sucking, tongues playfully intwining, as Emily watches raptly ... Another comment, this one from Rachel, "Honeymoons can be shared you know"... And they move closer until each has her body pressed into Emily ... A breast against the shinny blouse as Janie's arm hugs her back ... Rachel's face snuggled into the warm hollow of her neck ... Hands always moving, fingers lightly touching tender, but oh so persistent, ever probing to find a warm bare spot, to touch her smooth skin, Emily! Emily! ... Never too intrusive, they are sirens on the shore of Emily ... calling out to her, riding her waves, but not yet plundering her depths. They want to, they want to very, very much. Rachel & Janie's Massage Emily can wait no more. Passion must have its fill! First, she kisses Janie in wet-tongued French delight, then Rachel, slower deeper longer, at home now in the wonder of another's lips, another's mouth, another's tongue. Long kisses: The face of the un-kissed siren waits impatiently for Emily's lips to be free. They do not kiss each other, they save themselves for Emily. Unconsciously, they let their passion build--they have never been this unselfish! They are handmaidens serving Emily's unfurling desires, urging her to their bodies, their song of the flesh burning with lust and need. Emily is panting, tearing at her clothes, baring herself to them. "Now! Now! Now!" Through the gap in her torn blouse she offers a breast to Rachel, pulling her toward it, mewing at her as she strokes her head, "Here it is to suck, lovely girl. Here! Take me!" Her fingers stroke Rachel's cheek, like a blind woman she traces the roundness of her mouth, feels the slipperiness of full lips wet around her nipple. "All of me, sweet girl, all of me!" Janie watches Emily abandoned to her lust and waits until she simmers before standing and slowly lifting her dress, teasing it a bit, watching the colors twirl as the fine flesh of her thighs captures Emily's upturned eyes. She parts her legs so that Emily can see clearly her white shiny panties. Below, lips and tongue swirl around Emily's nipple, as Janie stands closer until those parted legs are so close--there!--for the eyes of the hungry woman to devour, to travel up their graceful length, and rest on the silky mound just above her head, a mound whose vaginal pout is wet with excitement and unmistakable musky invitation. Janie watches their fevered movements from above, their red heads tilting and dipping--hungry birds hunting, the crimson tints distinguishing her Rachel from Emily: An Emily whose bright blue eyes now stare up at her intensely. Jeez, I'm so wet, Janie thinks, if I don't watch out I'll be dripping into her pretty mouth. The door opens. Emily tenses. Rachel feels her shiver through the breast she sucks. They hear the click as the door shuts. They stare at each other, gripped in fear. In walk Jasmine and Miss M, nonchalantly, like they live here. They stare at the wayward tableau appreciatively. Jasmine gracefully knells until her eyes are level with Emily's startled eyes. "Ms. Hausenplat, I presume," she smiles, "I am so glad you are helping Janie and Rachel. They are both so shy, I was afraid they would never find someone to bond with." (Help them! Emily thinks, amazed.) "Do you know Miss Millie Dawson, her dad is at the college?" (Yeah, I think I do, he's the goddam president! I am so...so fucked!) Emily is even more amazed when Miss Mille Dawson floats to the floor next to her and hugs her, planting a warm kiss on her cheek. "Pleased to meet you!" and pats Emily's hand, a hand whose damp fingers are still wrapped in Rachel's hair, whose head now leans indulgently on Emily's bare breast. Jasmine murmurs in Emily's ear, purring "How we love to get to know their role models..." She is behind Emily now pressing against her so their bodies fit together, arms snuggle around her as Jasmine's warmth envelops her. (Like girls on a sleigh, ready to ride..., muses Emily) "We're missing someone, you will be so happy when she joins us." Jasmine begins to chant, her fingers stroking Emily as Miss M takes away the last of the buttons and the blouse that hide Emily from her bliss. Jasmine, her voice sing song, subtle: Let us go, you and I, on a journey, Long and sweet to where lovers meet, Let us go to where the butterflies, Into the sun their shadows seek, Where the wind its source to find Let us go, you and I... Where we will be, lightly, On the wings of love flying, Flowing in the air, floating there Being together then, forever Let us go... Emily presses herself deeper into the poet who has captured her in the folds of her body. She is not sure about what Jasmine sings. Only that it reaches into her, holds her in a heat steady, and adds to the thrill, to the hot, hot fire already started by the lovely ministrations of Rachel and Janie. Emily skinnies out of her skirt. Rips at her panties, and offers them, torn and wet with the dew of her desire, to Rachel. She wants nothing separating her body! Rachel's eyes gleam, taking the skimpy silk inhaling her desire, happy to be the recipient of Emily's assertiveness. (God, how she deserves to be happy, she thinks, how odd this thought, a whisper from the soul of where?) Miss M and Rachel help Emily free herself from all the rest of her pesky clothing. Now bare, still fitted to Jasmine, they begin to lick the length her beautiful pale body, starting with her feet whose toes now wiggle in delight. Rachel glances at Miss M and is reassured to see the goddess licking Emily in the same long slow tantalizing strokes. Timing themselves, they judge the value of their efforts by Emily's moans of pleasure. She is lost in a sleigh of warm hot wonder, maidens servicing the shy nooks and crannies of her awakened, now vibrant body. Above her Janie returns, the stunning provocateur, long legs wide, now straddling Emily's shoulders. Jasmine holds Emily's cheeks, steading her to the heat radiating from Janie's cunny. There she is, whispers Jasmine seemingly inside Emily's head, there she is in all her glory. Janie bends her knees until the white silky V of her panty, framed in the flesh of her taunt legs, is but inches from Emily's face. Breathe in Miss Emily, breath deep, murmurs Jasmine, Here comes heaven. Slowly Janie bends her knees, her legs quiver with the effort of her slow descent, a descent that moves her closer and closer until the V is but an inch from Emily's lips. She hovers there watching the top of Emily's head, the slope of Emily's nose, the subtle vibration there of anticipation, until no more waiting--none!--as she feels the full press Emily's squirming face hot against her pussy. Her face wallows in the wonder of hot Janie's maidenhead, buries itself from side to side in the slipperiness that coats the panties, still separating her from the prize! She is desperate to touch the hot fluffy lips outlined by the thin panty, but her arms are trapped under the bodies of Miss M and Rachel, bodies she dare not disturb from their juicy labors. She squirms some more until the tip of her tongue slips under the fold of the panty. She presses in deeper, until her nose is under the panty's edge tenting it, but gaining slight access. Ah, poor baby, whispers Jasmine, can't quite get to the pretty pussy! Here let me help... A slender black finger appears in the periphery of Emily's vision and pulls away the panty's edge. Now! Now! Emily's tongue finds the wet center, ah, she marvels, swirling in the hot mist of her sex-befuddled mind! She tastes the sweetness, her nose buried in Janie's wetness, sniffing the tangy scent of her, marveling at paradise found, of dreams come true. As she licks and probes, her own pussy is suddenly plundered, the coy tantalizing licks near but not on it are no more: Tongues are stroking her now everywhere, along her own v and into her own hotness, now together there, where she has always dreamed about the love of a friendly tongue, there where the waves of pleasure build until they are almost pain, there where her nipples are tweaked, there where now the wetness surrounds and lavishes her clit, there! there! until her now very wet face shudders, as Janie moans her longest urgent moan, there! until in ecstasy the empty is no more...