Almost Like Dancing

“I don’t know what possessed you to clean these old things, they’re in tatters,” she said as she picked through the old-fashioned lingerie. I picked up a satin brocade bustier and wiggled it in front of her.

“It’s kinda sexy, right?” I pressed it against my chest. “Should I try it on?”

“Do whatever you want. You know you’re going to look good in it, since you’ve got those big ol’ boobies.” She concentrated on a pair of torn silk stockings. I swear she’s blushing, I thought as I stripped. Although it was a hot August afternoon and we were in her attic, my nipples were almost painfully hard.

She looked away, but not before giving my body a sweeping look. This ends today, I thought as I pressed the bustier to my skin. I realized that I couldn’t put in on myself, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t just sit there, help me,” I said. She got up slowly, making a show of dropping the lingerie in her hands before walking behind me. She tugged on the bustier, then started hooking it up from the bottom.

“I hope these hooks are strong, because if not your tits will pop right out of this,” she said jokingly as she finished. She wrapped her hands around my waist and squeezed.

“I envy your body,” she said, barely above a whisper. I turned too quickly and nearly fell when a silk garterbelt wrapped itself around my ankles. She grabbed me before I keeled over, one arm at the small of my back, the other grasping my hand. I looked into her big aquamarine eyes and laughed.

“It’s almost like we’re dancing!” She let me go reluctantly.

“Aww, let’s dance – we haven’t done that in ages! Remember when we used to come up here and practice to your mom’s old records?” I walked over to the old hi-fi and blew the dust off a crate of old records. I wonder if it still works. I flipped it on. The empty record player started to spin. I flipped it off.

“You’re not getting out of-”  I turned around, and she was gloriously naked. She was putting on a satin bra, perfectly framed by the small attic window behind her.  A gold-haired Madonna with a white nimbus of light around her body– I blinked and looked away. My imagination really does get away with me.  It took every iota of my self-control not to stare as she adjusted her small, firm breasts in the bra and smoothed the black stockings on her long legs. She has such a beautiful body, I thought as I looked for our favorite record. She had been an All-State cross-country champion when we were in high school, and her body was still lean and muscular from years of running. I looked down at my narrow waist and the tops of my round, smooth thighs. I just don’t see what she had to be jealous of, I thought. I waved an old record over my head.

“Do you remember this?” I asked. I plucked the record out of its dusty sleeve and put it on the record player. I felt her hands on my waist.

“How could I forget?” she whispered into my neck. I had to bite back a sigh as my pussy contracted with her touch. She blew a tendril of my hair off my neck.

“How do I look?” She struck a pose in front of me. Her wavy blond hair was beginning to curl around her flushed face, and her flat, freckled tummy shone with sweat.

“You look…spectacular. Amazing. Ridiculously sexy.” I said, and my voice dried up at ‘sexy’. I was afraid to look her in the eye. She turned the record player on.

“May I have this dance?” She smiled a couple of inches from my face. I put one hand on slick small of her back, and slid my fingers through hers so slowly that I felt my pussy twitch. We danced around the dusty attic to a staticky-sounding Strauss waltz, but the way the motes of dust danced around her hair was almost magic. Her her eyes were bottle green with pleasure.

“I’d forgotten how much fun this is!” she said, her breath short with exertion. I dipped her and her hair tickled my knee. I longed to taste the sweat on her neck and lick at her still hard nipples through the satin of the bra…I blinked quickly, then realized that she was looking intently at my face. We tripped on each other’s feet and fell into a pile on our discarded clothes.

Her thighs pressed into my waist. Her hair was a messy halo around her head on the floor. I could see every beautiful freckle on her blushing face. I moved to get up, but she wrapped her long legs around me and caressed me. She parted her lips as if she were about to say something, but then she just kissed me.

Suddenly we were clawing at each other. We sucked at each other’s lips like novices. I drank her sweet saliva with such gusto that it sounded obscene. Her fingers rubbed restlessly on the lace covering my cunt.

I tried to talk, tell her how much I’d always wanted her, but she shook her head and kissed me again. With an astoundingly hard pull, she ripped my thin lace panties off. She tugged at my bustier so my breasts popped out above it. She rubbed her lips on my nipples, then sucked them eagerly. I could feel the sharp edges of her teeth on them, teasing, and it got harder to breathe the still, hot air. Her hands squeezed my thighs, and she moaned into my breasts.

“Are you-” Her hand clamped onto my mouth and she shook her head again. She parted the lips of my pussy. My head dropped with a thud as she tickled my swollen clit with her thumb and two fingers sunk slowly into me. I wiggled impatiently, but her hand didn’t move from my mouth. Her fingers began to slide in and out of me, stretching out the narrow opening of my pussy. I  looked at her puffy pink nipples pressed against my glossy brown ones. It was such a delicious image I licked my lips. She felt it, and smiled.  She stopped fingering me and put her wet, slippery hand up to her nose.  She sucked her fingers slowly.

I want to taste her so bad, why does she get to taste me? She pulled off my ruined panties. She waved them in front of my face, then balled them in her fist.

“Open your mouth.”  I pouted and shook my head. She said it again. I relented, and she leaned down to kiss my swollen lips. Before I could lift my face into hers, she stuffed the underwear into my mouth.

“Ack eh uckch!” I said, but she wiggled a pussy scented finger in my face as her mouth moved down my body. She licked the sweat between my breasts, then stuck her pointed tongue in my belly button. She finally licked at my smooth mound. I spread my legs as far as they would go and pressed her head into me. She giggled.

“You’ve always been so impatient…” she said, then licked my hard clit. I caressed her face, and she kissed my fingertips while she slid three fingers into my cunt “…but good things come to those who wait.” She pressed her fingers into me in such a way that my whole body arched with the sensation.  She sucked on my clit painfully, or so it seemed, because I hurt. Her eyes were closed with concentration and her arm was tense as she pressed so hard into my wet insides that I wheezed with pleasure.

It felt so good I was afraid, and the waves of pleasure were beginning to make me weak. My heart hammered in my ears, roared, and to make things worse, suddenly I had to pee. I mean, really pee, pee copiously, and the pressure built so fast I barely had time to tap her head in warming before I released right into her waiting face. I shot upwards,  but she pushed me down and continued to finger me. I thrashed on the floor like a landed fish.

Oh God, I’d never felt anything like this… nothing even remotely similar! It felt so good everything hurt – my head, my cunt, my belly, my nipples. My toes curled so hard they ached, and tears ran freely from my closed eyes.

She kept going until I saw white light behind my trembling eyelids. She wiped her face and crawled on top of me. She kissed my face – first my sweaty forehead, then the apples of both cheeks, and finally, my chin. She pulled the panties from my mouth and smelled them, then threw them over her shoulder. I wanted to tell her so many things, but all that came out was a weak sigh.

“Two minutes – I’m sure that’s a record,” she whispered, and giggled into my neck. I wanted to caress her, but my arms refused to move from my sides.

“What was with the panties?” I asked as she kissed the top of one of my breasts. My voice was still hoarse from moaning.

“You wouldn’t have wanted my mom to hear you coming all the way down in the kitchen, would you?”

Latest Comments

  1. willcrimson says:

    Wow! That was great Ximena!

    The dynamic you describe between two women is both like and unlike that between a man and woman.

    A man doesn’t necessarily envy a woman’s body; but there’s something incredibly erotic about the one woman envying the other woman’s body, then making love to it. She possesses it. She makes it her own. She makes love to the other woman’s beauty.

    • ximenawrites says:

      Here’s what’s loveliest — I didn’t even think of it that way, but that’s what happened.

      Beautifully put.

  2. vanianthicke says:

    Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy…
    Furthermore…
    Hummina hummina hummina…

    …and I’m spent.

    [someday I want to see Ximena and this dancing partner go at it…in the flesh…in front of me…my gland in my hand as I shower them with platitudes…]

  3. JadeAngelica says:

    Ximena- wonderfully erotic and exciting. Your writing feels so real, like you are re-telling events that happened to you instead of a fantasy. I wish I could be a real subject in one of your stories some day!! love you- xoxo

    • ximenawrites says:

      You’re so kind and sweet, maybe one day I’ll be able to create a character that reflects it in the way you deserve…

  4. nilla says:

    ohboy. um…ohgirl!

    that was delightful…full of the juicy promise, the ripe poignancy, the sated need of younglings (tho not too young!)

    *excellent* erotic images…i could see the motes dancing in that halo around her head as she moved into the shaft of sunlight…

    you captured the feeling of squirting excellently…she had no idea about her own body, until……i loved the opening of this blossom…

    nilla
    *smiling*

    • ximenawrites says:

      you captured the feeling of squirting excellently…she had no idea about her own body, until……i loved the opening of this blossom…

      That actually means a lot to me, since I’ve struggled to put that feeling into words properly. The heady mix of pressure, anxiousness, mindblowing pleasure and pain is hard to describe accurately so that even a reader who’s never felt it can understand it.

  5. Alice Bluegown says:

    I really enjoyed this – even though it was short, the sense of suppressed passion, long pent-up, was well conveyed; the explosiveness of the sex did not come as a surprise. I liked the kicker at the end, too. There’s something about attics – secret spaces, sometimes holding secrets long forgotten – that make them the perfect locations for spontaneous erotic trysts.

    PS many thanks for the link – it is much appreciated!

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