Can't Buy Me Love

"I..." Elsie was about to say, 'I'll try,' but at that moment, Ms. Graves' fingers traced a line along her collarbone, and Elsie was astonished by the warm, drifting pleasure the other woman's touch produced. "Ohhh..." she sighed out, her train of thought lost for a moment.

"See?" Ms. Graves said. "It's not so bad, is it?" She trailed her fingers down to the neckline of the dress, and then pulled her hand away. The ring on her finger seemed to glow in the soft light. Its ruby stone sparkled so prettily as Elsie leaned forward, trying to cling to that touch for just a moment longer... "Why don't you go ahead and take that dress off now, my dear?" Ms. Graves said quietly.

Elsie needed no further prompting; she wriggled out of the dress, lifting her hips for a moment to let it slide onto the floor. The pit of fear in her stomach was gone now, leaving her relaxed, almost comfortable in the other woman's presence. But even so, she felt somehow helpless next to Ms. Graves, somehow... "Ms. Graves?" she asked.

"Please, my dear, call me Marissa. Call me whatever you want." Marissa's voice was husky with arousal.

"Marissa?" Elsie's next words surprised her. "Could you...touch me again?"

"Of course," Marissa responded, pressing both hands to Elsie's flesh. Her left hand felt good, but her right hand...somehow it felt good, it felt natural, it made the other touches feel that much more special, and Elsie swooned in pleasure as Marissa caressed her body. She sank backwards onto the bed, whimpering as the fingers trailed over her stomach, along her side... "It feels good, doesn't it, my dear?" Marissa asked.

"Oh, yes..." Elsie moaned, feeling those hands drift along the swell of her breasts, just above her bra. Without even consciously realizing she was doing it, Elsie unsnapped her bra and pulled it off, giving those wonderful fingers free reign to roam over her sensitive nipples. The stone of the ring rubbed against one nipple, and the mere change in textures caused Elsie to whine sharply in arousal.

"You want this, don't you, Elsie?" Marissa asked, and her hands seemed to be everywhere now, her right hand continuing to rub and stroke and fondle Elsie's tits, seeming to gently pull out thought and pour in pleasure while Marissa's left hand slid down her belly to tease the waistline of Elsie's panties.

"I...yes, want I yes..." It was hard to speak now; it felt like it was getting hard to think as those hands just kept moving. Elsie never wanted them to leave the wonderful spots they were filling with bliss, but at the same time she desperately wanted them to move down to where her need was building so quickly, quicker than she'd imagined, in a way nobody had ever made her feel before...

"You love this, don't you, Elsie," and this time it wasn't even a question, it was a truth filling her mind as Elsie sank deeper into the pleasure, arching her back to lean into that magnificent touch. Her whole brain felt foggy now, like it was difficult to think of a time when she hadn't wanted this, hadn't needed this, hadn't loved Marissa's touch and Marissa's words and, oh, loved Marissa so much...

"Yes yes yes yes..." Elsie chanted, her eyes half-shut as she writhed in arousal and panting need. The whole room seemed to be lit by a blood-red haze, now, one that seemed to come from the spot where Marissa's hands touched Elsie's body. That seemed so perfect, Marissa's touch was lighting up her whole body and making her so hot and horny and needy and slutty and oh god she needed it, she'd never stop needing it when it felt this good. She practically tore off her panties in her urgent desire to feel Marissa's fingers on her snatch.

"On your hands and knees, girl," Marissa said, her voice filled with tones of loving command, and Elsie wanted nothing more than to obey. That felt even more perfect, not just wanting to love Marissa but wanting to obey her, wanting to give her whole sleepy, foggy, dreamy mind to Marissa and sink so deep that thought itself would leave her. Marissa gave her ass a light swat with her right hand, and the impact sent shudders of delight through Elsie's body and made her sway gently on the bed.

"Please, I need, please..." Elsie was barely articulate now; words just seemed like too much effort, thought seemed like too much effort. She leaned down slightly, raising her pussy up to give Marissa easier access and letting her tits dangle down, jiggling just slightly as she shivered with lust. "Please!"

"Please what, dear?" Marissa said, slowly inserting her ring finger into Elsie's pussy.

"I...I..." Elsie didn't know what to say, her mind felt almost numb with bliss, her whole being centered on the feel of that finger slipping into her wet snatch as she knelt there, trembling and paralyzed with need.

"Please what, dear?" Marissa caressed Elsie's tits with her other hand, pinching and tweaking the nipples in a way that would probably have been the best thing Elsie had ever felt if it wasn't for that finger, slowly sinking deeper into Elsie as Elsie sank deeper into bliss.

"I..." The ring on Marissa's finger bumped against Elsie's clit, and suddenly she knew what to say. "Please Mistress!" she shrieked out, and Mistress Marissa thrust the finger deep into her pussy and gyrated it back and forth, back and forth as Elsie came and came and came for her new Mistress. Even as the orgasms finally ceased, Elsie knew that this deep, dreamy, blank, obedient pleasure never would.

SOON:

Ronald looked at Elsie carefully, but there was no sign of deception on her face. Nothing but the sweet, simple contrition of a good wife who'd made a terrible mistake. He turned his attention back to the sheet of paper in front of him. The figures were unmistakable, the amounts unrecoverable. They'd have no choice but to raise the money somehow.

He tried to console himself. It wasn't as much money as last time. It wouldn't be as long as last time. But he knew it wasn't the length of time that would madden him as he waited for her to return from Ms. Graves' embrace. It wasn't even the thought of the two of them, locked together in sapphic pleasure. He knew that what would haunt him was the question that even now whispered through his thoughts as he prepared to talk with his wife about their new money troubles.

Had Ms. Graves made Elsie do this to get her back...or had she done it herself?

THE END