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Author’s Note: This story contains reluctant sex and forced lesbianism.
The first thing I did after leaving Angela’s office was call my manager at Starbucks and tell him I was sick, yet again. The hesitation before he replied let me know what was coming.
“Michelle, look, you are great when you are here, but you are just too unreliable. I know acting is your main focus, but I need employees that show up. I can’t find people to cover your shifts last minute every other day!”
“I know, I’ve been a real jerk. Let me make this easy on you, I quit!”
It felt so good to say those words. After four years of being a barista, I’d dreamed of saying them one day when I had finally hit it big. Technically, I hadn’t yet and was now officially unemployed to boot, but it still felt good.
Being unemployed sent a little shiver of fear down my spine. What if I got fired before the upcoming party and that ten thousand dollar paycheck didn’t happen? Could I grovel my way back to being a barista? No, I’d cut the safety net now for good. If I messed up this gig, I’d be going home to live with my parents.
During the trip back to my apartment I’d managed to somehow clear my brain. My aching arousal had faded to a background level of horniness. I itched for relief, but was somewhat in control of myself again. That all went away when I opened my clutch inside my doorway and shockingly discovered Angela’s thong still in there.
Okay, I knew it would be in there, but I acted shocked at seeing it again, I really did! I picked it up gingerly and crinkled my nose in disgust. I tried my best to be revolted at holding the soiled underwear of another woman in my fingers. Where was the trashcan? I planned on throwing them out immediately.
They were silk, however, and probably very expensive. Perhaps I should have them cleaned and appropriate them as my own? Was that what Angela wished when she gave them to me, for me to maybe even wear them to the party?
I started to move towards my hamper, but my nose caught a slight whiff of her scent on them. I was filled with revulsion suddenly, not at Angela’s dirty knickers, but rather at my own reaction to her smell. I wasn’t some panty sniffing weirdo! I shouldn’t be getting excited at the fact that this bit of clothing had Angela’s musky arousal still emanating from it.
I turned back towards the trash can.
Yet, I couldn’t deny I was a bit aroused now as I studied the knickers again. They were so small, barely a wisp of cloth, and weighed almost nothing as I spun them in my fingers. Her scent rose up in the air as they twirled.
I turned back to the hamper.
The best thing would be to clean them of their offending odor and scrub Angela from my mind. The hamper was in my bedroom closet and I hesitated before throwing them in with my own dirty clothes. Was I was worried that her smell would taint my clothes, or was I concerned about the opposite… that her thong would lose its potency if mixed in with my smelly stuff?
One last sniff.
How perverted and weird was I? I brought her underwear to my face and inhaled again deeply, as I’d done earlier in Angela’s office. Her scent was weaker now, the thong long dried out, but held so close to my nose her aroma still overwhelmed me. I felt my sex begin to tingle and heat up. Fuck this was embarrassing, even alone and by myself. How could my body be reacting this way to such a deviant act?
How had I gone from being a straight girl to a panty sniffing lesbian that enjoyed eating pussy in a couple hours? What the fuck was wrong with me?! All my arousal was roaring back and I knew I needed to cum, and right now. With a groan of defeat I threw the thong onto my bed and began stripping off my clothes with an eagerness I’d never felt to masturbate before. I kept my pumps on, replicating my look from Angela’s office, and fumbled frantically in my bedside table for a vibrator, choosing the slim, six inch model that happened to be on top.
“You are such a dirty, perverted slut,” I said to myself in a form of pep talk as I settled into my bed. I grabbed Angela’s underwear and began to tease myself with it, dragging it along my suddenly sensitive skin, brushing it against my already hard nipples, and of course, draping it over my face at times to refresh my nose with her maddening scent. “You love her smell. You can’t get enough of it, can you?”
My fingers started on my sex first, finding it hot, engorged, and already moist. Primed from my teasing performance in Angela’s office, I found my hole eagerly swallowing two, and then three fingers. They splashed loudly in my folds as I began to weep nectar profusely from their furious pumping. Every time my palm brushed against my clit, I let out a gasp and twitched my hips. I had to be careful, I didn’t want to come too soon.
“That’s it, eat my pussy you dirty old bitch,” I moaned out to the imaginary face of Angela that descended between my thighs. It was a pleasant escort bayan thought, but more exciting was the vision I still had of her sex splayed before me. My mind began to retrace her anatomy, recreating a mental map of her sexual landscape that included all the valleys and ridges that my tongue had so lovingly explored earlier. And that map included her asshole, I realized with a surge of heat that threatened to make me want to cum.
That perverted thought reminded me of the other source of pleasure I had found this afternoon.
I left the thong on my face, feeling dirty at the act, and grabbed my vibrator with my free hand. Shifting my fingers to my clit, I plunged the vibrator into my greedy passage and turned it on. It was almost too much, Angela’s scent in my nostrils, my fingers thrumming my clit, and the waves of vibrating pleasure filling my sex, but I somehow held on and delayed my climax
Groaning, I pulled the well lubricated vibrator out of my pussy and pulled my knees up. I placed the buzzing tip at my asshole and screamed into the gusset of Angela’s thong as shock waves of pleasure seemed to explode from that neglected and sensitive hole. Knowing I was close, I exhaled and relaxed my bottom, while simultaneously pushing the vibe into my suddenly yielding pucker. It probed into me, sending shuddering waves of pleasure that seemed to turn my ring a circle of pulsing ecstasy and caused my vagina tingle in sympathy.
“Yes, I want you! I need you! Let me have you again!” At the height of my pleasure, it was to Angela I called out.
My fingers became a blur on my clit and I couldn’t hold back any longer. A subtle pistoning of the vibe was sufficient to drive me over the edge, with Angela’s pungent musk filling my brain. My tongue snaked out, licking her thong, and that little taste of her again was the final bit of sensory overload I remembered before everything exploded into a massive, white blast of pleasure. Firing from my sensitive asshole, my orgasm spread to my sex, arced into my clit, and then shot up my spine to my desperate brain. I screamed and thrashed, legs spasming and hips bucking as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me, until finally, as my climax faded, I began to regain my senses and recover my breath.
If I hadn’t felt like a deviant pervert before, I certainly did now as I pulled Angela’s thong from my face and slid my vibrator out of my ass. A quick glance confirmed that I had squirted and wet my sheets conspicuously. My orgasm had been massive, no doubt enhanced by the dirty shame of how I had achieved it. I was feeling guilty for so many things right now I didn’t even know where to begin to feel regretful.
Even worse, my body was fresh from a mind warping orgasm and I could feel a craving building for another one. I hurriedly shoved Angela’s thong under my pillow, out of sight, smell, and taste, in the hopes that without that tantalizing object before me I’d get back to normal.
This couldn’t be happening. Was I a lesbian? Or at least bisexual? I should text some guys right now, fuck buddies if I could think of one, to come over and get me back in line. I couldn’t think of any male I wanted right now, though. I had this horrible theory that my failures in relationships weren’t because of Hollywood, but because I didn’t want to be with a man long-term. I’d never had a boyfriend for longer than six months, except for a guy in college. Every time things started to get more serious, I’d end it. There were always good reasons, such as my move to L.A. that ended my college relationship, or that I couldn’t commit because of work, and the always present guilt about flirting to get roles. Now I wondered, were my perpetually failing relationships with men because I liked women better? There were suddenly too many uncomfortable things to think about.
My phone rang suddenly and I was relieved to find it was Samantha calling. I answered quickly, glad for a distraction. She immediately pressed me for news on my meeting at the agency as I’d texted her earlier saying I was going over to interview with Angela.
“No, it’s not for me either,” I said forcefully, remembering the non-disclosure agreement I’d signed and Angela’s warnings about discretion. “I can’t be a… whore!”
Samantha seemed disappointed and kept digging for more information. What were the parties like? Who attended them? Would I actually have had to perform sex with the guests?
“Angela wouldn’t say directly, she was very coy. I mean, she definitely implied I’d have to be willing to have sex,” I answered, feeling horrible about lying and trying my best to stretch the truth. “I wouldn’t be surprised, given the impression I got from her, that she wanted girls who’d also have sex with female stars! I could NEVER do that..”
I immediately regretted bringing up the topic of lesbianism given how much angst it was causing me. Also, what overcompensation mechanism in my repressed brain was making me still bursa vip escort try to pretend like I was one hundred percent straight, and to Samantha of all people? It was if I’d decided to double-down on my front of heterosexuality in order to convince myself it was true.
“Oh, really? Well that makes the job even cushier! If I knew that I totally would have done it,” replied Samantha glibly.
“What do you mean?”
“Having sex with a girl is so much easier! It’s not really cheating on Mr. Sleazy either, as I don’t think he’d care,” explained Samantha. “It would be really fun, actually. Bummer that you said no, though.”
“Uhm, I guess it’s easier for YOU,” I said, sounding skeeved out. My repressed brain kept digging itself in deeper that I was straight. “I’m not really that interested in that kind of stuff.”
“Oh, come on, Michelle! Don’t be such a prude! It’s just sex and getting off. Girls smell better and kiss better. Who doesn’t love boobs? Plus what they can do with their mouths… I don’t even bother getting head from a man anymore.”
Oh, for it to be that simple for me. I felt a pang of jealousy for simple, slutty Samantha and her sexual freedom. To have no hang ups, no guilt, and no morals, what a dream! I didn’t want to think about her praise of a woman’s tongue as I still felt a keen craving to experience it myself. Going down that avenue of fantasy might lead to more masturbation with the kind of inspiration I was trying to avoid.
“But going down on a girl?” I countered, trying to express disgust in my tone of voice.
“Much easier than getting gagged by a cock ramming into your tonsils! I mean, you get over the taste quickly. I don’t mind it at all, actually, although some women are smellier than others. It’s not like sperm tastes amazing either!”
“Wait, just how many women have you had sex with?!” I was curious now. I hadn’t really probed Samantha on the topic given my aversion to such matters previously. In general, I just ignored, out of embarrassment for her, any of her homosexual dalliances the same way I did her sluttier heterosexual escapades. Still, I didn’t think she’d had many.
“Hmmm. I can’t even count,” Samantha replied with no trace of embarrassment. “At least a dozen. That’s just the ones I’ve had sex with, you know, orgasms for me, and ignoring make out sessions or play stuff I’ve done in threesomes to turn on a guy. Don’t get me wrong, I still prefer cock and men, but getting off is getting off. I couldn’t date a girl ever, the emotional side would be a disaster for me, but they can be a lot of fun in bed, right? Sometimes when I’m drunk, it feels safer, you know, less potential for rape or violence. I don’t know, maybe I am bisexual.”
I was silent, stupefied by Samantha’s casual admission. My mind was filling with images of my best friend going down on me. I wondered what her pussy looked like. Did she taste good? My free hand found my vibrator and I realized I was horny again. This was beyond terrible and depraved, I was fantasizing about my best friend. If I turned my vibrator on, I was going to ride it straight to lesbian hell.
“Hello? Are you horrified by this or something?”
“No, uhm. Just, I’ve never thought about it,” I lied as I moved the vibrator around my cleft languidly. I couldn’t believe my next question. “What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done with a girl? I want to know. It will distract me from being a failure.”
“Easy! It was how I got that role as the waitress in that crime movie!” answered Samantha, seemingly nonplussed at my strange question. The one line role had been among her biggest credits, I remember her rehearsing the seven words in front of her mirror for hours. “The casting director was this incredible lesbian. She was fairly butch, which I don’t like that much normally, with a lot of tattoos and a short spiked hairdo. But she had this incredible magnetism and dominating personality, I’ve never met anyone like her before, even guys.”
“She just would say something and you’d feel compelled to do it?” I asked, suddenly curious. Maybe Angela’s sway over me was not that uncommon.
“Exactly. Like I could never say no. I went to her house that night after my screen test and she opened the door fully nude. I was shocked, both at her boldness, but also her body. She had texted me to come over and discuss the part, so I figured something was up, but she didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. I remember my jaw dropping when I saw her amazing tits, both pierced, and she a matching ring on her clit as well. And her tattoos, well let’s just say they incorporated her vajayjay cleverly. She was strong and fit with not an ounce of fat, kind of like you, but way more muscular.”
“Wow, she sounds really hot. What did she say to you?” I mumbled as I slid my vibrator back into my pussy. It was turned off, for now, but my passage was turned on already and welcomed it easily.
“She didn’t say bursa elit escort anything, she just pointed at the ground,” continued Samantha. “I tried to act offended, but her eyes made me obey. I dropped to my knees before her and she lifted a leg and straddled my face, resting her thigh on my shoulder. This was just inside her entryway with her door still open, mind you! She made me eat her out in full view of anyone walking by on the street!”
“Oh, wow! That is.. uhm.. crazy,” I said, trying to keep my breathing normal and voice steady. The vibe had turned on inside me and I was moving my hips slowly, thankful the buzz was muted by my passage. “Did you make her cum, like that?”
“Yes! She wouldn’t let me up until she had orgasmed. I could tell that was her goal, so I went to town really hard and used all of my best tricks.”
“Wait, what are your tricks? What did you do… exactly?” I asked, curious and horny about the details. I mean, it was really a research question in case I needed some help the future when doing my new job. My thumb strummed my clit idly. The vibrator buzzed deep inside me, sending nice waves of pleasure through my core.
“Oh, you really want to know? Okay, so this is what I do when I need to get a girl off fast, like pull out all the stops because we are rushed for time. It’s not the most erotic or sensual, just a pure pleasure attack! I started by kissing her like a mouth, just burying my face in there and letting my tongue go swirling to make sure she is warmed up. Trust me she already was! As quickly as I could, when I sensed she was ready, I moved my mouth to her clit. When a girl is horny and wants to cum fast, you have to focus on that. My fingers slipped into her pussy and gave her something to grip, which she did, and then I curled them to scrape on her roof, against her g-spot. It really exists, if you haven’t found your own yet. You know when you have it with another girl. That all was going great, but I was embarrassed about doing this while standing at her front door so I pulled out my last trick to send her over the edge. Right when I thought she was close, I slipped my ring finger into her ass!”
“Oh! You did not!” I gasped out, faking shock to hide my own gasp of pleasure. My fingers had replaced my vibrator, curling up to seek my own g-spot as I pushed the vibe back into my ass. Samantha was now on speaker phone and I hoped she didn’t hear the momentary buzz of the vibrator as it switched holes. “Did she cum?”
“Like a fucking rocket! She squirted all over my face and kinda ruined a blouse I liked, actually,” said Samantha, giggling. “Then she grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the house as I followed on hands and knees. I mean, it gets crazier. I’m probably telling you too much at this point.”
“No! No, it’s okay. It’s fun to hear. I’m interested as I’d NEVER do something like that,” I said, hoping my eagerness wasn’t too obvious. My fingers had found a bundle of nerves I’d never noticed in the walls of my sex and I had to fight to keep my breathing steady and moans silent.
“Well, she still hasn’t even spoken and she turns around and shoves her ass in my face. Her intent was obvious. I had no choice but to eat her ass next!” continued Samantha, evidently enjoying sharing how slutty she was. She’s told similarly graphic stories to me about men before, I realized, so this probably wasn’t that unusual in her mind. “Well, I had to do that for quite a while, before I finally slipped my fingers into her pussy again. With some wiggling, I got her to cum for the second time.”
“Uh huh,” I managed to squeak out. Everything was feeling good now down below and I wished I had a third hand to pinch a nipple. “And did she do anything to you?”
“Yeah, finally. I had a skirt on and she reached under it and pulled my thong off. She threw me on the couch and started fingering me, hard, rough, and fast. It was a huge turn on because of her aggression and intensity. She stared me in the eyes and before I knew it, she had four fingers in me. I felt her thumb working in next and I knew what she planned. I’d never had anyone fist me before, I didn’t think it was physically possible, but I was so turned on and wet that she was able to do it! It felt larger than any cock I’d ever taken. She was basically fucking me with her arm! And she was so strong and powerful that I just started cumming over and over again.”
“Oh my god!” I panted out, trying to act shocked. “That’s… crazy. I could NEVER do that!”
I was on the edge of cumming myself, my fingers working inside my passage, my thumb rubbing my clit, and the vibe pumping in my asshole. Waves of pleasure were coming from all my most sensitive parts, all working in harmony now, threatening to build into one massive wave that would swamp my resistance. How was I going to cum without Samantha hearing, though?
A solution came to mind. I lifted my hand from my vibe for a second to reach under my pillow and grab Angela’s knickers. I stuffed them into my mouth and bit down hard, her flavor filling my taste buds and scent wafting up again. Her musk was like an aphrodisiac and I felt my body surge with heat. The hand went back to my vibrator and began to pump it into my ass faster as my fingers redoubled their effort.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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