0 comments/ 20244 views/ 0 favorites Focus By: Viva Dharma Eight ball says "ask again later" in response to my inquiry of whether or not Jack is intimately involved with either Teresa or Angie, both of whom had been involved with the two of us. After a month of back to back wine-tasting events, he finally had a weekend off and we had planned to go to Tampa together. However, after hearing of his fear of being stifled, I said, "Maybe you should go by yourself." He had said just last week that I allowed him no friends. What could I say to that? I didn't see it that way. All that I want to say, that I try to say comes out all wrong, so I won't say anything anymore, at least not for a while. I'll just write. These experiences are my muse, sometimes bitter, sometimes hot, they give me focus. "It's so quite in here." Eldrick has Angie in the "El shack" right now as I construct this chair for the auction. El has been the kind of master I had hoped Jack could be, but Adrian prevented that. "It doesn't really matter now," I tell myself. "Oh but it does!" Let me just focus on the sensations I felt when El and Angie bound me to a chair much like this one ... the ecstatic heat of desire flowed from my dripping cunt throughout my entire body. Yet, as much as it stirs me to recreate that night in my mind, it is nothing like the un-air-conditioned summer evening in Jack's old house, when Adrian thrust her whole fist inside me as he fucked her from behind. Beyond all that, I am an artist and my experiences give me focus. I wish Adrian were the same shy, fiery, slut she was when I first met her. Now she arouses such pain and fury in me that I can no longer even think of binding and flogging her, which is what she wants more than anything. The submission she once had is a bed overgrown with weeds of jealousy. Everything I do to cut them down makes more grow in their place. I find it ironic that she so deeply loved the book, Screw the Roses, Send me the Thorns and now she's screwing me, emotionally, nothing but a thorn herself. I'm supposed to be the Master! I can't get on top of her mood swings...she's crazy, but how can I tell her that? I love her with all my heart, but I don't love how she makes me feel about myself anymore. Every time I see her, she cries. I've never been one to want to admit something like this, but I'm losing focus. I sense Jack drifting away from me and the cards let me know it is true. I have to hold on less tightly. I know he loves me, but they want him. Teresa and Angie want him. Maybe they love him too. I love them, but being with them, as good as it felt, ripped something out of my soul. I wish we could all be "just friends" without the prestidigitation of sexual intrigue. I know I am bisexual and I enjoy the bdsm lifestyle, at least I think I do. I love the people here, some of them anyway. Honestly, I just wish it could be like it was the first time Jack tied me to the iron day bed in his old house. I'll never forget the way it felt to have his fingers inside me as he held me, possessively, in front of the mirror, after releasing me from the bonds of the bed. He wanted to put his entire fist inside me and told me that he would, in time, when my body became more submissive to his demands. He warmed the flesh of my ass as he spanked me, with firm tenderness. I savored the animalistic thrust of his cock as he promised to use the lovely leather floggers on me when I was ready. I wanted to scream that I was ready right then, but he was clearly uninterested in my demands, wanting nothing more than my sincere interest in his. So I'll leave my own needs aside for now and only on his will I focus. I need more twigs for the roots of my chair and more hair for the seat of it, the seat that is supposed to resemble my pussy. I'm glad Angie likes the hair on my pussy. It hurt my feelings that Adrian was so eager to shave it all off. Jack urged her to consider my feelings and leave it as I liked, which she did. She didn't go down on me much, though, and I have a feeling that it was because of my hair. I like my hair and I don't want the stubble and aggravation of having to shave it constantly. I wonder if it is little things like that which cause Jack to prefer Adrian to me. She shaves her pubic hair and stays in better physical shape. She has no one to share, though. I have Angie and would share her freely. We have become very dear friends and she adores Jack as much as I do. We have been willing to share ourselves freely with El and respect his need for others. Why can't Jack see that? He deserves to have his needs met and we are better prepared emotionally. We have the maturity to be what he demands and Adrian doesn't. She's only 24 and still very needy herself. I wonder when and how she lost respect for her own needs. She doesn't seem to know what she wants at all and its really hurting Jack to the point that his photography, wine career, and friendships are all suffering due to his lack of focus. I can no longer concentrate on my work, the wine or the pictures. She's always on my mind and I want to do whatever it takes to make her happy. We call each other constantly which is getting me in some hot water at work. I masturbate at least three or more times a day to deal with the frustration and try to balance my own needs. The last time we made love, she fell asleep before it was over. I wish I'd just fucked her instead of trying to be so soft and tender. She needs a good fucking but I'm afraid she'd cry. I need to get away, to be among friends that accept me for who I am. I called Angie today to see if she, Teresa and El would mind me joining them for the weekend. Adrian agreed to give me some time to myself. Its not that I want to betray Adrian or even leave her, I just need some space so I can get things back in focus. I wish the other night when he made love to me that he'd just fucked me instead. Its what I've been wanting for so long. I don't know how things changed so much. Now I wonder if he's fucking them while he's there. I know he needed space but I cannot imagine him making love to them. He's even said that he could never love them. Their ideas are unlike his when it comes to life. Jack doesn't respect some of their attitudes and behaviors and he finds both Teresa and Angie rather frigid for his tastes though physically he his not judgemental so he could very well engage in something with them which would not go against his conscience. I'm loud and writhing and into my pleasure as much as his...well, I was, once. What happened? I was also once in better shape but lately have begun to ignore the needs of my body in many ways. The last time we were together I realized how much I've lost myself. Recognizing that my only source of heat now, comes from reveling in the memories as I touch myself, fist fuck myself, and use the vibrator he gave me, I know things are all out of focus. Focus Note to Reader: Due to the nature of the story, I have to put it in the Lesbian Sex category, but for those of you looking for actual all out lesbian sex, this isn't it. While the women come very, very close, I would consider this more of an extremely heavy exhibitionist/voyeur story. Just wanted to warn the purists out there... * Katie was so looking forward to Molly's visit that by the time eight o'clock actually came around, she would have been physically drained if it weren't for the energizing sexual tension coursing through her. She had no idea what to expect. On one hand, she knew Molly was happily married, and from previous conversations had learned Molly was and always had been a heterosexual. On the other hand, Katie had kissed and groped and even halfway undressed Molly earlier today, and not only did Molly seem untroubled by it, she even went so far as to suddenly accept the invitation to come over that she had basically rejected just moments before that had all gone down. Katie went back and forth trying to decide what Molly was really up to. When she had kissed Molly, she was so into it that she didn't realize until later that Molly wasn't really kissing her back. And when Katie put her hand to Molly's breast, the nipple was very hard, but it was also only forty-some degrees out, so she wasn't necessarily turned on. But the clue that gave Katie the most hope was the whole reason for the two getting together... It had all started earlier in the afternoon. Katie was trying to fulfill a fantasy of hers to get her own nude image on camera. But taking pictures of herself was neither as thrilling as she'd hoped, nor as easy. The pictures were quite uninspired. So she caught Molly the mail carrier just in time to ask for advice. Despite Molly being a married, middle-aged woman and Katie was only 22 and still lived with her parents, the two had formed a causal type of bond. Over the past few years, Katie had confided in the neighborhood mail carrier with things she couldn't tell her parents, or things her friends weren't experienced enough to help her with. Most of their talk involved sex, and it was Molly that had finally helped Katie break out of her shell and finally go explore. It was also Molly who had the honor of being the first woman Katie had ever felt attracted to. Katie never intended on hitting on or making a move on her friend, but when she stood in her doorway wearing only a robe and asked Molly for advice about taking nude pictures, that all changed. In a series of unfortunate events, the robe ended up sailing on the wind, Katie ended up running in panic to hide her nude body from the world to see, and Molly ended up with Katie's tongue in her mouth and her breasts exposed when her attempt to help the poor girl was wildly misunderstood. Before the robe had come off, Molly had declined Katie's request to help her take nude pictures of herself. But in the aftermath, not only did Molly change her mind about helping, she even offered to bring pictures of herself to use as examples! Certainly tonight was going to be more than a couple friends talking about flash, focus, and film, Katie thought. And hoped. When the doorbell rang, Katie had to remind herself to stay calm. Despite what she wanted to happen, she had to be prepared for a tame night, not only so she wouldn't be disappointed if nothing happened, but so she wouldn't make Molly uncomfortable. Though Katie was new to the bisexual life, she had managed to get her share of women, and there would always be more. She had to respect Molly's orientation and desires, whatever they were. Sticking to this promise to herself, Katie didn't offer Molly anything other than water to drink after she let her in and took her coat. Liquor, even if it was just offered and not taken, might raise Molly's suspicions. And if Katie had any for herself, it might cloud her mind and make her too bold. The women went to Katie's bedroom, which was large, with a queen-sized bed, a massive oak desk, a full entertainment center, small couch, recliner, and its own bathroom. It was no wonder Katie still lived at home. Her room was almost as big as many one bedroom apartments in the city. "It used to be two small bedrooms," Katie said, seeing the surprise on Molly's face. "And a den." "Very nice," Molly said. They chatted a little, but the tension in the room was obvious. Even Katie, who could normally recover in this situation, felt captivated by Molly's beautiful eyes, which were usually hidden behind sunglasses. There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then, getting to the point, Molly said, "That your computer?" It was more of a statement than a question--obviously it was her computer. "Yeah," Katie said, and she moved over to it, following Molly's lead. "Well, how about you show me one of your pictures, just so I can get a sense of what you're talking about." Katie might have been excited to hear this woman ask to see a nude picture of her, but the reality of the situation didn't let the thought get carried away. She sat at the desk and pulled up one of the pictures she had taken earlier in the day. This particular one showed her naked from mid-thigh up to her eyes. Her forehead was cut off. Even after the debacle this afternoon, she was unexpectedly self-conscious about showing a nude picture of herself to a woman like Molly, who was so physically gifted, but it was also making her squirm in her chair with delight. Molly was the kind of woman who got better with age. She had a full, curvy body but was not fat. Her ass was bigger than it used to be, but it had a perfect shape and lift. Her breasts hung a little lower than when she'd been younger, but they were even more appealing now, because they were soft, full, and natural and yet still so close to faultless. "Oh, I'm sorry," Molly laughed nervously. "I didn't mean you had to show me one of those. You can show me one of you with your clothes on." Now Katie was really embarrassed, not to mention disappointed. That was not the kind of response she was hoping for, even with a picture as bad as this one was. And if Molly wasn't expecting to see nude pictures, then she might not have brought any of her own. "Um...I, uh, didn't really take any with my clothes on." Molly sensed Katie's humiliation. "Don't worry. That's okay. Nothing I haven't seen before, right?" And now Molly was the embarrassed one, because she felt like she was saying all the wrong things. "I didn't mean that. You have a remarkable body. Really. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen a body like that before. Everything is so...right." Katie didn't believe her, but she blushed anyway. "Yeah, sure." Katie wasn't ashamed of her body, but it was still intimidating to be judged by someone so beautiful, and whose opinion she totally respected. "No, really," Molly continued. "I never looked that good when I was your age." Katie smiled, raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Molly's significant bust. "Please." "I'm serious. I always had good boobs, but my butt has always been a headache. When I was really thin, I had no ass. When I put on weight, I finally had an ass, but no shape to it. What you see here," and she pointed to her behind "is about as good as it has ever really been." Katie took the opportunity to check out Molly's ass, which, despite what the woman was saying was a n awfully mouth-watering hunk of meat. "I think it's pretty damn nice." Molly laughed. "Well, thank you. But really, if we'd grown up together, you would have been the friend who got all the boys. I think you're beautiful." Hearing that word shouldn't have effected Katie as much as it did, considering the situation, but she couldn't help but shiver with excitement at the very, ultra-slim possibility it exposed. Molly seemed to notice Katie's response, and was quick to move past. "But you're right," Molly said, looking back toward the picture. "The shot doesn't really show that. I mean, obviously the framing is off, and it looks kind of flat because of the flash or whatever." Katie eventually put her concentration back on the picture, too. "Yeah. I set the camera on the TV, and I wasn't really sure where to stand to be in it all the way..." "And that's another thing," Molly continued. "Your facial expression looks like you're a young woman worrying about where to stand for a picture. You don't look relaxed or like you're having any fun." Katie nodded, disappointed at how quickly this conversation had turned sterile. She knew going into this that nothing was going to happen and she wouldn't try to change that, but she didn't realize how much of her mind and body was hoping against those realities. She was desperate to redirect things, despite her promise not to try and make things sexual. "What about your pictures?" she asked. "Can I see how yours turned out?" "Oh, I'm sorry," Molly said. "I didn't bring the pictures. I don't know that they would've helped anyway, because like I told you earlier, I had this guy take them. I wasn't doing it alone." Katie was confused. While Molly had explained she had some great nude pictures of her that were taken by a guy, she also had said she'd taken good naked pictures of herself before. If that was true, why didn't Molly just bring the ones she'd shot herself? Maybe Molly was too shy to show her own pictures--it made sense considering how she'd reacted seeing the nude image of Katie on the computer, but Katie didn't think so. More likely was that Molly had guessed Katie was bi because of today's events, and though she still came tonight in an attempt to help her friend, now she smelled a setup and was trying to find a way out. "Besides," Molly continued. "It'll be more helpful if I direct you and show you what to do." 'On the other hand...' Katie thought as her heart suddenly pounded with excitement again. Molly took Katie's digital camera from the desk and directed her to go to the middle of the room and strike a pose. It was at this point that Katie decided to break her promise and do what she could to seduce Molly. She didn't even really think it was possible, but at least attempting it would be exciting, and as long as she wasn't too obvious about it, she could still retain Molly as a friend. To start things off, Katie took off her top as she made her way to the spot Molly had suggested she stand. It being November, she was wearing a long-sleeve shirt with a tank-top below it, so removing the long-sleeve garment for the picture didn't make her intentions at all obvious. What did become obvious was the great body Molly was talking about when she complimented Katie earlier. The bulky long-sleeve shirt hid Katie's form a little, but the tight, orange tank top presented it. She was thin but not bony, and tight all over but not muscle bound. Her B-cup breasts stood high and jutted outward proudly without the help of a bra. Somehow her body radiated an energy that was matched by her bright blue eyes and her colorfully dyed hair, which included maroon, navy blue, and dark purple highlights in the dusty brunette strands. Katie stood there, feeling her incredibly long nipples beginning to harden, and she hoped they wouldn't become her Achilles Heel by communicating her intensions. To try and conceal them, she struck a slightly bent over pose, offering the camera a good look at her cleavage through the neck of her top. To enhance the cleavage and make her breasts look fuller, she also squeezed them together with the sides of her arms. Then she watched for Molly's reaction. "That's good," she said, watching, though not through the camera. Her response seemed genuine, though not particularly emotional. "I'm going to play with the lights a little, okay? Just stay like that." Katie nodded, her body froze as Molly went around the room, first turning off the harsh overhead ceiling light and then going around turning on and adjusting a couple lamps. She frequently looked back at Katie to see what effect her lighting changes were having. Since Katie was holding her position, she didn't see but did hear Molly even open her closet, sift through her clothes, and seconds later the room glowed in a deep shade of red. Katie looked to see what was going on, and saw that Molly had placed something on one of the lamps to get this effect. But what really shocked Katie was that the garment she had chosen was a piece from Katie's lingerie collection--a sheer, red negligee. After a couple minutes, when she was satisfied, Molly began to actually take photos. Even this was taking time, though, and Katie was growing restless. "How do I look?" she asked, specifically choosing to say "I" rather than "they" and referring to the pictures. "Good," Molly said unenthusiastically. "I mean you look great, but it's hard to get good lighting when your clothes are absorbing all the light." Something about the way Molly's voice put emphasis on a few of her words was curious, Katie thought, and she instantly picked up on it. Her nipples began to tingle and grow again as she considered whether she was right or not. Katie decided to go for it and reply how she thought and hoped Molly wanted her to. "Should I take something off?" Molly looked at her with a serious expression, as if concentrating real hard. "Yeah. You've got a bra on, right? Maybe just take off your shirt so I can see the light on your skin." Katie had to fight to keep herself composed. This was looking more and more like her informal photo-shoot was becoming a game. Molly had tried to cover her intentions by assuming out loud that Katie wore a bra even though it was obvious she wasn't. Molly, Katie thought, was setting herself up to be surprised. "And you can do another pose," Molly continued, turning her attention to the lamps again. "I've got enough shots of you like that." Katie raised her arms and began to slip off her shirt, freeing her breasts and her long, fully erect nipples that strained to grow harder. Molly still hadn't seen, as she was still playing with a lamp, and so Katie had time to throw away the shirt and strike her next pose. She crossed her arms over her breasts, using her forearms to hold them high and tucking in her shoulders and her biceps to push them together. Though her nipples were hidden, the top of her breasts swelled out greatly, looking fat and heavy. Below, she arched her back, presenting her flat tummy. As she waited for Molly's attention, Katie suddenly realized what the older woman had done here. When she had changed the lighting in the room for the pictures, she had made the room dim, bathing it in crimson, setting an undeniably arousing mood. When confronted with the fact that she did not bring her own pictures, it was Molly's idea that Katie pose for her so she could snap some photos. Katie wasn't the one doing the seducing tonight. Molly was. And just like that, the throbbing that had been only in her heart and her nipples was now between Katie's legs. Molly looked back to her, taking in the view but not letting herself appear shocked or in any way effected. This confirmed what Katie suspected, because if Molly had really though Katie had been wearing a bra, it was clear she wasn't now, and yet she'd said nothing. Molly took pictures, and standing half-naked before her, Katie tried not to tremble too much. "That's good," Molly said. "Really good. Pout your lips and wet them a little." A shock zipped up Katie's spine as she heard, then obeyed the order, letting her tongue moisten her lips. "Okay," Molly said, not taking her eye from behind the camera. "I think the lighting is pretty good. I might make some adjustments here there, but I think you should just go with it. Start doing some more poses." Katie was more than ready to take her arms down and present her chest to Molly, but Molly was one step ahead of her, and suddenly she was behind Katie, taking pictures of her naked back. Katie thought it would be too bold this soon into the game to turn and flash the camera, so she went with it, dropping her arms from her breasts, but allowing Molly and the camera to continue in ignorance of it. Katie thrust her hips to the side and slightly twisted, giving Molly a chance to see her torso tighten, as well as a peak of the side of a breast. She put her hands in her hair and raised them as Molly snapped away. Then Katie unbuttoned her jeans, but only unzipped them halfway. She turned to face Molly, showing her this, but hiding her breasts again as she grabbed each one with a hand. Molly moved in close to take pictures of Katie's midriff and the tease of the undone jeans, and Katie thrust her taut tummy out to meet her. Then Molly tilted the camera up, doing low angle shots from Katie's waist, showing the young woman holding a breast tightly in each hand while looking seductively down between them to the camera. As Katie looked down and wondered what to do next, she saw something red waded up in Molly's hand. Before she could even guess what it was, Molly was offering it to her, holding it up against Katie's chest. Katie recognized it as a pair of her own silk panties, and she tentatively took them, careful not reveal her breasts yet. Sensing what Molly wanted by the way she handed them to her, Katie removed her hands from her chest and used only one hand to hold the silk panties over them. The panties were small, and so was her hand, so not nearly as much of her breasts were concealed. In fact, spreading her fingers apart, she could only barely hide both nipples and areola completely behind the material, but she knew this was exactly what Molly wanted as the older woman snapped more pictures. "Yeah," Molly said, her voice catching in her throat a little. "Just like that." Katie put her other hand down and just barely put her fingers into Molly's blonde hair. When Molly didn't back away, Katie pushed her fingers further, until she was softly touching her cheek, which was soft and warm. Katie looked down at Molly, not at the camera this time but through the camera and at Molly directly, her eyes sending millions of messages that all said the same thing. In this deep state of focus, Katie unconsciously let up on the panties she held to her chest just enough to let them slip off one of her breasts. Her long, hard nipple was revealed, and she heard Molly give out a light gasp before she immediately snapped a picture. "How's that," Katie asked in a throaty voice she hadn't even planned on using. Molly seemed afraid to move the camera from her face, though she pushed her cheek faintly against Katie's hand. "Katie, I..." Katie cut her off by letting the panties drop completely, her breasts now free and finally with an audience to marvel at them. The panties dropped onto the camera, but Molly moved her face to look up Katie with her own eyes, staring at the succulent mounds of pert flesh and breathing heavily. Molly started to move her lips, wanting to say something, but not able to produce a sound. Katie saw her struggling and put a finger to Molly's quivering lips. Katie smiled. "Take my picture." Molly did as told, snapping pictures, but no longer looking through the camera to do it. She watched Katie on her own, guessing that the camera was in the right place for the shot, but not really caring because she was entranced by the moment, and only did this to keep what little restraint she still had. She stood up, stepped away from Katie, and took more shots of Katie's half-nude form. Katie posed her body in different ways, moving her arms, twisting her body, and turning her head this way and that. She approached Molly, pushed her breasts together with her arms and thrust them right up to the camera so that any shot it did get would be too close to be in focus. Molly clicked the camera, but she stared hungrily at the flesh before her, and in one of the few times of her life, she still couldn't find a word to say. Focus Katie then threw herself onto her bed, lying on her back with her chest still thrust out, her firm breasts sinking into her body only slightly. She ran her hands over her tummy, then down her half undone jeans, slipping below the waist with one hand while further unzipping them with the other. Molly followed her, still taking pictures, still silent. The women made eye contact only briefly, but in that moment they both knew what was happening, and their intentions were revealed. Molly was beyond reluctant, but she was also too intrigued to deny herself this experience and whatever it might become. Katie was hungry and horny, and she knew she was winning this game. Katie slid her jeans off slowly, showing off her long, perfect thighs. When the jeans finally sunk to the floor, her legs looked as smooth as the white silk panties she wore. Those panties were the only clothing she now wore besides her anklet socks, and her body simply radiated sex as she coiled and stretched on the bed. She raised her legs, revealing her lower buttocks, then hugged her knees to her chest and crossed her ankles over her crotch. Molly snapped away. After several pictures were taken of her in this position, Katie smiled big. "My turn." Molly looked even more stunned, if that was possible. "How am I ever going to learn," Katie continued, "If I never get behind the camera?" Molly knew what this meant, and the fear registered clearly on her face. And yet, though shaking, she stepped forward, leaned over Katie on the bed and extended her arm to hand her the camera, her mouth open to say something... Katie snatched the camera and wrapped her legs around Molly's back in the same instant, locking her in place, though Molly's instinctive attempt to free herself was half-hearted, at best. Katie ground her crotch against Molly's, tightening her thighs around Molly's ass and locking her ankles to further secure her. Still trying to appear unwilling, Molly placed her hands on Katie's naked midriff and made a weak attempt at pushing herself away. Despite how pathetic her escape attempts were, Molly looked genuinely concerned now. She was losing control, not of the situation, but of herself. Finally she found her voice again and used it authoritatively. "Ok," she boomed, louder than she'd wanted to be. "That's not a bad idea. You should get used to the camera. So you can...you can take pictures of me...and we'll see how you did in a minute." Katie tried to hide her smile. Poor Molly was so transparent. For years, Katie had always been the submissive, asking Molly questions and looking to her for advice, while Molly was the dominant one, giving the answers and always appearing calm and in control. Now Molly was quivering and her confidence had been so shaken she could barely speak, and Katie felt like a big jungle cat toying with her prey just before the kill. Katie released Molly. Molly stepped back, took a bland pose by the desk, and waited. Katie rose from the bed, making sure not to conceal her breasts as she brought the camera to her face--but not to her eye. She snapped a picture. "You can do better than that," Katie grinned. But Molly didn't seem so sure. As the seconds ticked by, she looked more and more terrified. "I don't think I can do this," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Her tone suggested this was not part of the game. Katie didn't panic. "Nothing's happening," Katie said, her voice reassuring. "All I want to do is take pictures. We're just two girls taking pictures of each other to impress the boys. And like you said. We're not seeing anything we haven't seen before." Molly nodded, trying to convince herself. She swallowed hard. "Now take off your shirt. You're wearing a bra, right?" Molly nodded again, then tried to straighten up her posture with confidence. She unbuttoned her shirt, starting from the bottom, each button seeming to take forever. Katie snapped pictures the whole time, though her eyes never once looked through the camera. "Yeah, like that," Katie said. And when the buttons were done, "Now open your shirt. Show the camera what you're hiding." Molly opened her shirt, revealing her huge, fantastic breasts nearly bursting out of a black bra--the same bra that she had been wearing in the afternoon. "Take your shirt off," Katie ordered. "I need to see the light on your skin." Molly obeyed. She then stroked her cleavage, trying to look calm again, but her hand was shaking. "Remove your bra." Molly's reply came so fast, it was as though she'd wanted to say it for ten minutes. "I think we've done enough for tonight." She was trying to back out, but Katie knew she wasn't going anywhere. She approached Molly until they were face to camera to face. Molly didn't move away, but she didn't move closer, either. So Katie took her free hand and went behind Molly's back, found the clasp of her bra, fumbled for a second or two, and then watched at as the tight grip the garment had on Molly's chest suddenly went slack. As she moved her hand back to Molly's front, the bra sunk lower until it was resting only on her erect nipples, her areola pink and obvious against her white skin. She had very distinct tan lines, which seemed to make her breasts appear even larger and were more eye-catching. Katie gave the bra a gentle tug, and it came down, Molly's breasts finally fully naked before her. Memories of that afternoon, when Katie had first seen this magnificent chest, came back to both of them. Katie snapped a picture. "I'm not...gay," Molly whispered in a shaky voice. "We shouldn't..." "Just pictures," Katie reassured her. "This is all just an act." Katie moved her mouth up to Molly's and parted her lips. Molly didn't move until the last second when she opened her mouth to accept the kiss. Except it wasn't a kiss. Katie stopped, keeping her promise that this would only be pictures, and with their lips in the position of a full mouth kiss but still centimeters away from actually touching, she brought the camera up and snapped a picture of it. At the sound, both women melted a little, their bodies pushing together only slightly, but the kiss never happened. All that touched was their breath on each other's lips. Katie moved down, putting her lips so close but not close enough on Molly's neck and upper chest, kissing her not with her lips, but with her breath, and snapping pictures each time. Molly took deep breaths, fighting the physical urge to push herself against Katie's mouth, but welcoming the flood between her legs as she grew increasingly aroused with every second that went by. Molly looked down when Katie reached her breasts and watched as the young woman stuck out her tongue. Katie put the tip of her tongue so close to Molly's nipple that she could actually feel the body heat, and yet Katie never touched her. She snapped a picture. Molly took a deep breath and her whole body stiffened. Katie suddenly jumped up, lashing out at Molly's face with that tongue, though never making contact. She phantom licked Molly's mouth, took a picture, did the same to her cheek, took a picture, and then she handed off the camera back to Molly. Her hands free, Katie put them behind Molly, rested them on the desk, and brought her small, strong tits right up to Molly's large, softer ones. Katie continued to fake lick Molly's face and neck while pretending to rub her breasts against Molly's, though the women's chests only brushed twice accidentally, but the effect it had was magnificent. A pulsing, numbing pleasure rolled through their breasts with the faint contacts, a sensation that tickled their spines. "You okay with that camera?" Katie asked when she saw that Molly wasn't taking pictures. Molly just nodded, then went to work, taking photos of their breasts almost touching, as well as shots of Katie just barely not lathering her with passionate licks and kisses. Katie rose up again, straining on her tip toes so as to bring her chest up toward Molly's face. Molly recognized the intention and pretended to suck and kiss Katie's breasts, taking pictures of the area. She wrapped her lips around the ends of Katie's pointy tits, but never closed on them. Her mouth watered, and Katie's skin even dampened from the moisture in Molly's breath. Katie took back the camera. "Take off your clothes." She couldn't think of a more sexy way to say it. Molly shrugged off the bra that still hung loosely from her shoulders, then stepped away from the desk and unfastened her pants. As Katie photo documented it, Molly removed her pants, bringing her big but exceptionally beautiful and sculpted ass into the bedroom's red light. She wore a pair of skimpy black panties that bulged from the thick muff below it. Katie, who had always kept her pussy closely trimmed, was instantly excited about seeing this. "That's quite a bush you have there," she said. She was going to ask to see it, but thought better of it and instead simply dropped to her knees beside Molly. Katie began faking kisses along the side of Molly's ass, then faking them on Molly's ass. But what wasn't fake was when Katie gripped the waist of Molly's panties and tugged at them as she snapped pictures, pulling them down slowly with one hand. Molly turned, presenting Katie with her ass and hiding her pussy, but Katie knew it was only a matter of time. At last the panties gave way and dropped to Molly's ankles, leaving her completely naked before the camera and Katie's eyes. Katie faked a few more kisses and licks on Molly's naked ass, taking extra time to inhale her thick, sexual aroma, and then moved around her until she was face to face with Molly's muff. The hair was thick and curly and blonde, and Katie put her face so close to it that she could feel its warmth and smell nothing but feminine arousal. She opened her mouth as if to take a bite of this dessert, snapped a picture, and then pretended to lick the pussy full on and took another. Above, Molly groaned. "I want to see yours. I, I mean, I want to take a picture of yours..." Katie stood up, gave Molly the camera, and pulled off her panties. Her very trim bush made it easy to see the cleft of her pussy, which excited Molly so much that she grew weak and dizzy and had to sit on the bed. Katie climbed on the bed with her, lying on her back, spreading her legs and putting a palm over her clit. When Katie touched herself, she almost came. She pulled her hand away. "Come on," she said. "Take my picture." Molly was no less nervous, but her sexual need was making her bolder. She got on all fours on the bed and leaned down toward Katie's crotch, studying it with her eyes while taking pictures of it over and over. She was so hungry that she salivated enough to have to swallow four times before finally getting close enough to lick Katie there. But she didn't. Molly stopped right before putting her nose and lips to Katie's flesh. She felt and smelled the girl's heat, but did nothing more than take a picture. And another. But then a curious thing happened. As Molly looked at Katie's cute little pussy, growing wet before her very eyes, she noticed Katie's breathing had tripled in speed, and her body was thrashing with increased power each second. And then Molly saw Katie's clit, and she realized her own deep breaths, heavy with arousal, were pushing and tickling Katie's clitoris. Without even touching her, Molly was giving this girl an orgasm. She didn't even need to think about her next move. Molly knew if it worked for Katie, it would work for her, too. She swung her body around and positioned herself so she and Katie were in a 69. She knew this was the right thing to do because of the loud moan or pleasure she got from Katie when she lowered her muff towards her face. But keeping with the evening, Molly did not lower her pussy enough to be touched, though her breasts were too big to avoid resting their weight on Katie's abdomen. Instead, she put herself in position to be breathed on, not eaten, and soon she felt the same tickle on her clit, despite the fact that it was buried in her blonde fur. "Take a picture!" Katie cried out, further along toward her climax than Molly was. "I want a picture of you eating me." And at that, Molly not only took a picture, but she went at Katie's pussy with such vigor that it was amazing that she didn't actually touch the girl. The movements themselves were so sexual and needful as she pretended to munch the little cunt that they brought Molly right up to speed in the race to orgasm. Below, Katie was doing the same, and if it was hard for Molly not to give in, it was absolute torture for Katie to hold back. But hold back they did, until a crashing tidal wave of orgasm swept over both of them at once, Katie crying out first, and then Molly following once she knew it was okay to let herself go. The women bucked and thrashed, and to keep themselves from diving in each other's pussies, they were forced to hold onto each other's thighs to keep themselves as stable as possible. Katie screamed and growled so loud and with such emotion that she sounded like she was in pain, though the truth was far from that. Molly sounded as if she'd just experienced a climax for the first time after 40 years of build up. The women could only hope that Katie's neighbors were too unimaginative to figure out what was going on, because there was no way they wouldn't have heard it. When the orgasms died down, Molly and Katie had no choice but to rest their bodies, despite the fact that it meant breaking the code they had been so careful to follow. They collapsed onto each other, their breasts pressing against each other's bellies. Molly's thighs were suddenly as weak as rubber, and so she had to rest her sopping wet pussy on Katie's face. Katie, not wanting to break the trust, politely turned her head, but that didn't keep her from immensely enjoying the feel of the wet, hairy bush against her skin. At the other end, Katie rested her crotch on Molly's face, but Molly let it fall right where it lay, which was on her chin, with her nose tucked between Katie's silky thighs. After a few second, Molly felt the camera on the mattress beside her. She picked it up and snapped a picture of Katie's cunt using her face as a pillow. Then she laid it down, felt Katie pick it up off the mattress, and heard a click. It was quite a turn on for Molly to know that there now existed a picture of her bushy pussy burying a beautiful young girl's face. Getting up and dressed again wasn't as nearly as pleasurable. Katie wanted to say something, but each time she thought of a coherent string of words, she worried about how Molly would take them. They ended up parting in awkward silence, with Molly exiting with such speed that she forgot to take her coat. Katie was a little thankful for that, because it gave her a reason to talk to Molly when she came for her next mail delivery. Maybe they could straighten something out. Katie was taking the coat to her room, wanting to keep it hidden from her parents, when she heard a click on the floor. She looked down and saw a shiny black thing. She picked it up: a memory stick. Katie felt a thrill rise through her. So Molly had brought the pictures of herself. She faked forgetting them so she could try the role-playing scenario! As much as Katie wanted to consider what this meant, however, there were more pressing matters... She had to get her ass to her computer and check out these pictures! Funny thing, though. Katie was about a third of the way through Molly's personal pics when she realized that her digital camera--the camera they'd been using tonight--was suspiciously missing... * FOR MORE STORIES featuring Katie, check out 'Sibling Secrets', and 'Flash'. FOR MORE STORIES featuring Molly, check out 'Picture Window', 'Delivery From Molly', Molly's Treat', 'Molly's Facial', and 'Flash'. Focus Joyce breathed out, in. Slowly. Water slid down her neck, hair, pooling in the crevices of her collarbones. She rinsed, slowly turning in the steam, warmth. Calm now, she thought back over the evening, letting the shower run as she thought back. Concentrating, trying to find the one detail, overlooked. The answer was there, if she could remember. Concentrate. Falling leaves in the crisp air, crunching underfoot on the concrete sidewalk. Joyce walked with purpose, confidence, shoulder-length brown hair stirring with the wind. Sunshine made sharp edges on the scenery, but no warmth. Sweater weather, not quite cold enough for a jacket yet, and Joyce strode back to the office. Long strides, looking forward, always moving. In charge once she was through the door again, it showed. Joyce made decisions, but fairly in her estimation. She calculated, considered, rendered her judgments and her instructions always followed. Today no different than previous, decisions were made. Some feelings ruffled, hurt, or ignored. All the same, decisions had to be made. Greg looked up as Joyce entered, his face giving nothing of his previous animosity away. Calm. Their eyes met, brief, professional. She thought over their morning's discussion again, to make sure she had all the details. "So, just like that?" Greg asked, careful anger simmering in his eyes. "I considered your point, but we have to be careful in this market." Joyce replied evenly, calm. Greg kept pushing for expansion, a larger staff. Convinced of a victory just out of his grasp, he unrelentingly petitioned Joyce for resources. His work impressed her, his intuitions correct and development efficient, but he often overlooked the corporate chain of command. She couldn't deliver what he wanted. Not even if she wanted to. The rest of the company was clinging to her division, her leadership, for survival. Going straight to the vice president as he had damaged her, her reputation, but Greg refused to understand. "We've got one good opportunity with this, Joyce. We're going to miss it. We're going to miss it because you want to be conservative?" He asked, an accusation. "Conservative is how I run this division, Greg. I'm careful. That's how we're all still here, employed." She replied, lowering her voice, staring him down. In control, even now, as he challenged, pushed. "You'll feel differently soon, but by then it'll be too late." He told her, clipping his words, jaw clenched. His eyes smoldered, a narrow brown band of iris encircling his dilated pupils. Nostrils quivering. Joyce matched his stare, cold blue and unwavering. In command. Greg broke, looked away, ran his hands through his loose dark curls, further disheveling them. Almost endearing, Joyce thought, as he sighed, deflating, letting go of his anger. He didn't speak again, his unshaven jaw slack, wandered out of her office. He cast her one more look over his shoulder, a shadow of a smirk. The rest of the workday passed; appointments made, met, correspondences sent and returned. Joyce busied herself, efficiently completing her duties and supervising the duties of her subordinates. Greg stopped by one more time late in the afternoon, but only poked his head in to say something, then gone. Joyce knew then, remembering Greg's quick visit, that was it. He said something, but what? She stepped out of the shower, finally, dripping water on the cold, stark tile. The bathmat was still in the closet, forgotten in her haste to shower, to wash. Joyce carefully stepped to the towel rack, and dried herself off. Her mind wandered as she did, analyzing, her eyes wandering back to the blue anal plug in the sink. Joyce left the office at her usual time, nothing left undone, but her thoughts disordered. She walked to her car, slowly, distracted. Unfamiliar urges clouded her thinking, compulsions stirring, directing her now. She got in her car, drove, unaware of the destination. She fought through her mental fog, struggling for control, but her own actions were a mystery. She drove, turning, parking at an unfamiliar house. Uncertain steps bore her to the front door, where she knocked, waited, fidgeting with her purse strap, confused. The door opened, the man behind appraising her, taking her in with his eyes. Cold blue, like hers, taking her apart to see how she worked, fit together. She withered, looked to the ground in front of her feet. "Joyce?" he asked, his low, gravel-littered voice not at all uncertain. She could not find her voice, despite the many questions lingering, so she nodded, glancing up at him, then away. Tall, clean-shaven, handsome. A stranger. The door opened further, the man stepped back, inviting her in with a gesture, silently smiling, knowing. Joyce, despite her many misgivings, gave in to her urge to enter, and did. Closing the door behind her, the man led Joyce to his living room, where he sat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, further studying her as she stood just inside the room. He did not invite her to sit, so she stood, facing him, uncertain. "Do you know why you came here, Joyce?" the man asked, studying her, making her feel small, insufficient. "I... I don't know." Joyce replied, unable to maintain eye contact, blushing. "Focus." He said. And she knew why she had come. Her thoughts focused at his suggestion, the fog lifting, her purpose clear. Joyce approached, leaving her purse on the floor as she strode toward the coffee table. She stopped, pulling her sweater off over her head, her arms. Calm, steady, her hands worked at her pants, buttons, and zipper. Cream, professional, straight cut pants now bunching around her thighs as she pushed them down, hurrying. She opened the buttons on her blouse, starting from the top, one by one, open. Joyce could meet his gaze now as she revealed herself, her conservative underclothes, to him. She dropped her shirt on the floor with her sweater, not taking off her bra, but pulling it free of her breasts, over them. She stood, brazen in front of the man whose name she did not know, covering only the most private of her body. She stared at him, pinching her own nipple to erectness, squeezing her breasts, daring him. He smiled slowly, leaning back on the couch, watching her, arms folded behind his head, relaxed. With disheveled confidence and lust, she turned her back to him, slid her panties down, revealing herself, bending over, crawling hands and knees on top of the coffee table now. She steadied herself, folding her legs beneath her, pushing her knees apart amid her hastily drawn down pants. She leaned forward, and reaching between her legs, spread her labia and teased her clit for him, wet already. Some small part of her protested, clamored to stop, but faded as she began masturbating, shrank as the warmth began spreading. She looked back over her shoulder, breathing heavily, making eye contact, sliding a finger inside herself. He watched, silent, smiling slightly, nonchalant as she continued. Joyce performed for him, arching her backside higher as she slipped further into pleasure, warmth spreading from between her legs, pushing her onward. The man leaned forward, leaning on the table next to her as Joyce continued. Her pulse quickened when she sensed his movement, pushing her closer, yearning for his touch, his breath on her skin. He leaned forward, reaching for her, his hand at her mouth, pressing something to her lips. Joyce opened, accepted as he inserted a plug in her mouth, pushing it in, scraping it over her teeth. She quickened her pace, losing herself a little more as he worked it, turning it over her tongue, and her mouth filled with it, the odd rubber taste. Yearning increased, heart pounding, racing, Joyce heard her own wetness as she rubbed herself, spreading, searching. Saying nothing, he pushed, tickling the back of her throat only slightly before he removed the plug from her mouth, drawing a fine string of saliva down her chin. Joyce felt on the brink, needful as he leaned back, behind her again. She inched closer, heard her labia slapping wetly as he placed a hand on one of her buttocks. She pleaded with him mentally, urging him to touch her, kiss, penetrate her as she furiously ran her fingers over her clit, into herself. Slowly, he parted her buttocks, pressing down with the plug against her asshole. Her mind raced, shifted. He meant to put the plug into her, inside her. It felt huge pressed against her, pushing, slowly pushing, entering her. Her confidence wavered as, on the very edge of orgasm, she felt her sphincter stretch, slightly at first, then rapidly as he forced the plug home, filling her. As it sank into her, she felt her rectum shift around the bulbous shaft, her sphincter tightening again around smaller base, pain and pleasure mingling, dueling. A new, alien feeling, fullness like this, stretching her open. She felt it pressed tight against her anal walls, crowded against her fingers inside her as she groped, pressing down against her small, interior knots of flesh, frantic. "Concentrate, Joyce." He whispered, pushing her over the edge. Her mind reeled, conflicting thoughts colliding as orgasm came in waves, pulsing. Blood pounded in her temples as she came, no longer rubbing herself, pulling her soaked fingers out, mortified, confidence evaporating. Equal urges to cover her nakedness or continue the pleasure, flee from this place or turn herself over, fought within her. Another wave, her sphincter tightened, constricting around the base of the anal plug, clenched, sending a mixture of pleasure and humiliation through her, knots at the base of her stomach, spreading, ice water pulsing through her veins. Panic won out, she rolled, blushing, cold sweat, trying to pull up her pants, panties, hide her breasts, and what to do about the impossibly huge thing crammed up her ass? Would it come out again? Her reptile brain, survival, preservation took over, ignored the discomfort of her anal predicament, issued directives. She tore at her bunched, impossibly tangled pants and panties, pulling them up, feeling the wetness between her legs, the bulge of the plug as her pants finally came up, pressed tight against it. "I-I have to go! I-" She stammered, covering her breasts, her bra tangled, stretched, snatching her shirt and sweater off the floor. Her heels clicked rapidly towards the front door, and then back as she retrieved her purse, looking at the man on the couch as she bent down for it, gasped at the dull ache from her ass, and then bending slowly at the knees. He laughed short, quiet laughter at her, reminding her of tires on gravel, shuddering as he watched her. She turned and fled, managing to get her shirt on and halfway buttoned as she stumbled toward the door. The drive home, tedious. She gingerly shifted her weight, leaned, carefully trying to ease the pressure from the plug. It felt bigger now, expanding, grinding against her hipbone from the inside, churning. Sure it was tearing her apart, but in between the dull aches, though, she felt stabs of pleasure, lust. Still wet, her clit aroused, the odd sensation of the monstrously huge object in her ass pressing against her interior walls kept setting her off. Once parked in her own driveway, she hurried inside, carefully, to the bathroom, to remove it, if she could. Once there, naked again, still dripping wet down her thighs, she turned to see in the mirror just how huge the thing was. Equal parts relief and disappointment as she saw her imagination made it bigger. Her casual knowledge of these things was enough for her to know it was not the monster she thought, but big enough. Carefully, bending over slightly, reaching awkwardly, she pulled it out of her ass, slowly. Another wave hit her as her sphincter opened, her knees shook, fresh embarrassment washed over her along with pleasure as she stepped into the shower. As she walked to the bedroom, naked, dry, clean, the memory sprang clear. "Decisions." Greg had said, casually, in passing. Her resolve solidified, set. Joyce would indeed have some decisions to make concerning her experience tonight. She opened a drawer, leaving the plug there, dull blue along with her plain, conservative panties- white, pink. Her reminder, souvenir of her humiliation, pleasure. Decisions, indeed.