Shameless! (2)

Part Two of ‘Strapless’: a continuing story of sapphic seduction

{This post is very definitely NSFW; it is also entirely unsuitable material if you’re underage in your locality; only read on if you’re an adult and you like explicitly sexy stories.}

[Fantasy; solo female dildo masturbation. All ‘participants’ are adult, imaginary, and entirely fictional - any resemblance to a real person is sheer coincidence.]

I arrived back at home after work, feeling, well, different. Today had been a lot to take in. Happily, Mum wasn’t back yet - she often worked late - or at least, claimed she did; I had a feeling she might have been ‘seeing someone’ at work, and she thought she was keeping sweet, innocent, little me satisfied with thinking she was working. But lately, yeah, I had my suspicions… For instance there had been some serious soggy panties ‘concealed’ (none too competently) in the wash basket - and they definitely smelt strongly of sex… Not that I had been sniffing my mother’s used panties, you understand - that would be seriously freaky.

Anyway, her not being back gave me some alone time in which to think. I put my shoes away, unpacked my work bag, put my lunchbox by the kitchen sink, and fixed myself a cold drink with ice from the freezer, and sat myself on the sofa. I’d get dinner in a bit, but for now I had some serious thinking to do.

To all intents and purposes, I had gone to work in the morning as what I had thought was a happily heterosexual woman, and I had returned home as one for whom the sexual landscape had expanded hugely. Or had it, really?

Actually, if I was honest with myself, I had always ‘checked out’ other girls - at least as long as I had been aware of being a sexual creature, and probably longer. I had always thought that what I was doing was what all women did - checking out the ‘opposition’, looking for beauty tips, checking out fashions, and so on. How old is she? What is she wearing? What is her figure like? How do all of these things compare to me? Is she attractive? Is she better-looking than me? Do I need to be envious? Which feature of hers do I like or want to copy? It’s like research.

But also, sometimes (okay, quite often) I’d look at a woman and there would be an undefinable, but strong, sense of attraction - although I never let it develop into an actual ‘thought’; I’d immediately suppress the notion, before it even had time to develop into an idea; it was not to be contemplated - because ‘good girls don’t do that’.

That, I supposed now, was the difference between me and ‘other girls’. I tried to fool myself into believing I was just ‘people-watching’. But now, I knew that wasn’t true; I’d been found out - or had found myself out with help from my new ‘friend’.

Honestly, it was a bit of a relief finally to admit it to myself. On the way home, I had ‘indulged myself’ in a little lechery - not, it has to be said, entirely ‘shame-free’ - in fact, it felt really, really, naughty; it was as though I had stepped over some moral ‘red line’ - and I suppose, going by the morality with which I’d been raised, I had taken a very definite step into something which was ‘forbidden’. But it was lovely too.

It had been a very warm day, and people were dressed accordingly - some of them not leaving a great deal to the imagination… There were some women ‘out there’ who, when I admitted it to myself, were bloody sexy, and I really fancied them. By the time I’d got home, I was a bit ‘hot and bothered’ and it wasn’t all because of the air temperature! And it actually felt good. It felt like scratching an itch I’d been trying to avoid scratching - I just hoped it wouldn’t leave a mark. I realised, as I thought about the hot women I’d seen, that I’d barely even glanced at the guys. Was that just because of the ‘novelty’ of leching at girls, or was I really a lesbian and not even bisexual? The thought both excited and horrified me.

I decided it’d take a bit of working through, but it was definitely a ‘thing’ - I was, undeniably, attracted to girls. In some ways, today’s encounter didn’t feel real - it felt as if I’d been in a dream - a very nice, sexy, dream, but a dream nonetheless; and yes, I’d walked home checking out the sexiest girls and imagining what I would like to do with them! So it was real; I’d just have to deal with it. Now though, I thought, I really ought to stop all this navel-gazing and give some thought to what to make for dinner, in case I needed to defrost something from the deep-freeze.

Before, silly me…

Remembering that Penny had said she would invite me out for a meal. Just then, my phone pinged; it was Penny:

“Rigoberto’s @ 7:30; don’t be late!”

Gosh! She was as good as her word. It really hadn’t been a dream and, yes, I was going to meet this lovely sexy lady again. It was hard to believe though.

I thought I’d better hurry up and get ready - I probably only had an hour before I’d need to leave again. I threw all my work clothes in the wash basket, amused that Mum’s wouldn’t be the only pair of soggy panties in there tonight; and put on my silky kimono while I picked out some clothes. I wanted to be casual but smart, and sexy without being slutty. Not an easy brief. But the weather was hot, which made it easier in a way. In the end I went for my plain red sundress, over red lacy underwear; accessorised in white - belt, bag, and sandals. Keep it simple! I somehow doubted whether clothing would exactly feature heavily once we’d eaten anyway.

Time for a shower! Into the wet room downstairs I went. I shrugged off the kimono and hung it on the peg on the back of the door. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror… And did a sort of double-take. I mean, I knew I was attractive, and sexy but, after today’s ‘encounter’, I seemed undefinably different somehow. The young woman looking at me out from the mirror seemed to have changed. The same 5’5”, long wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a body which might well epitomise the ‘slim and stacked’ vibe… seriously big and bouncy (E cup) boobs, a narrow waist, the tiniest bit of tummy, fine blonde ‘fuzz’ for pubic hair and, turning, a generously rounded, well-toned, bum. Long legs, with just enough curves to be shapely rather than slim. But somehow now, I was more than just the sum of my parts; I felt ‘complete’ at last; comfortable and fulfilled; finally, in some indefinable way, unashamed of my ripe young body. Did I actually look different? Probably not, but I felt different, and perhaps that was why I thought I looked different.

‘Heck,’ I thought, ‘I’d fuck me! In fact I wouldn’t be able to resist, if I saw myself ‘out and about’. And then I thought, naughtily, ‘But, actually, why not fuck myself? Where’s the harm?’

I set the shower running, with the temperature adjusting knob about where I normally had it, and padded back to my bedside table, aware of the beginnings of warmth and wetness between my legs again, picking my favourite clear ‘rubber’ dildo out of the drawer and sucking it between my generous lips momentarily.

‘Why not indeed!’

By the time I got back, the shower was just right. I stepped under it, and luxuriated in the feel of the luke-warm water coursing down my curves. Once I was wet, I stepped aside from the cascading water for a moment while I shampooed my hair; then stepped under it again. Once I’d rinsed off the shampoo, and then conditioned my hair, I reached for the shower gel, and began to work up a lather, soaping my arms, my back, my legs and feet, before, finally, stepping aside from the water and squirting a couple of generous ‘ropes’ of the creamy white liquid onto each breast. I giggled to myself when I thought ‘that looks just like spunk!’, and began to rub it in, covering my boobs; keeping on rubbing, a generous, creamy, lather began to cover my boobs, partly hiding them. Rubbing soap into my nipples made them tingle and perk into even hard pink buds, the broad areolae following them into little crinkles. I enjoyed the slippery sensation of the slick lather on my breasts, as I lifted and squeezed them, sliding them against each other and paying a lot of attention to my erect, slippery, nipples.

I took hold of the dildo and rubbed it soapily across my nipples, making them perk up even more. Then I slid the dildo between my breasts, squeezing the cleavage together with my elbows and titty-fucking myself vigorously, the resulting flow of thick and creamy suds making obscene lava-flows down my body, as if some giant had just cum all over my titties. I loved the way my breasts joggled and jiggled as I fucked them.

I tweaked and twirled my hard and sudsy nipples with my fingers, before slipping my hand down over my tummy through the cascade of foam and on over my mound into the sudsy area between my legs. My knees buckled as my hand made contact with my clit, which was standing out from my folds, begging for attention. I stroked my folds, the mixture of the soap and my pussy cream making everything incredibly, almost unbelievably, slick. My fingers dipped into my entrance and back up to stroke my hard clit with every stroke, making my knees tremble uncontrollably so that I could hardly stand.

So I sat down, back against the wall, and pushed the dildo steadily into my cunt, sliding it as deep as it would go in one smooth, deliciously lubricious, stroke - the thrust made my hips buck involuntarily against it. And then I proceeded to fuck myself thoroughly, deliberately, firmly, with it, whilst rubbing my soapily slippery clit with the other hand. And the sounds… Deliciously squelchy, with occasional wet queefing noises as the dildo slid in and out. It didn’t take too many strokes before I felt the tension in my loins building up and building up until it became unstoppable…

And then it exploded outwards from my core so that I practically saw stars; the waves of pleasure were indescribable; they left me flopping around, shuddering and gasping on the wet-room floor like a fish out of water. Gradually the spasms subsided, and I could breathe again. I sat on the floor, with the water gradually sluicing the mess away. I stood up, shakily, under the cascade of water, and finished off rinsing away the soap and other fluids, before turning the shower off and towelling myself down. My nipples were really sensitive, and even just patting my boobs dry made me quiver and quake and caused my knees to buckle… And as for my cunt, it was just too sensitive - it would have to air-dry!

I put my kimono back on, sauntered to my room, dried and styled my hair and then got dressed, enjoying the feel of my lingerie against my skin. I applied a little light make-up. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I was impressed; I thought what a sexy girl I was, and how lucky somebody would be if they got to have me. Of course, I hoped ‘somebody’ would do just that, later in the evening.

To be continued…