Ms. G

Her body was bowed, her heavy breast propped. Our breathing was uneven as I felt my orgasm racing like a stampede up from my toes. Her hips were jerking in an erratic fashion, sliding our bodies over the sheets. Her cooing was driving me insane. She whimpered, "Genevieve" just once before clamping her lips to mine. We came together in silence, the dams between our legs bursting with an intensity that left my vision blurry.

"I had to have you before I leave. Sorry to wake to you, cher," I said with a sly smile.

"Oh my goodness. I never knew we could...or you could..." She was a bright pink now, still languid from her orgasm.

"That's how real lesbians do it." I tossed a look at the clock; 7am. "Damn, how far is the airport?" I rolled from between her soaked thighs and stretched.

She laughed heartily. "I don't think you'll be making that flight." She propped up on her elbows, her breasts swaying slightly, and smiled at me. Her eyes traced the oval shape of my face, wide almond eyes, down to my pursed little lips. I bit my bottom lip and wiggled my eyebrows at her. "Guess we'd better get going?"

I wanted to jump her bones, but Swanson would have my head on a stake if I couldn't get into the office bright and early tomorrow; I'd need the rest of the day to unpack and finally sleep. "Yeah, I've got to be going." She looked sad for a moment. I trailed a finger down her abdomen. "If we don't go soon, you'll never get out of this bed."

She trembled at the light touch and made a pouting face; the shape of her lips and innocent eyes didn't make it hard. I leaned towards her until my lips met hers. My pink tongue probed her mouth with leisure. Her face held sadness and had surprisingly affected me; I couldn't have it stay there. She sighed against me as I nibbled on her thick bottom lip before letting it go. Her lips were swollen now, eyes still closed. She lifted a dainty hand and pushed her hair back. The sun was peeking through the drawn curtains, illuminating the length of her porcelain body. I was wet from just watching her.

"Let's go girl, before you get a good licking!" I jumped out of the bed, the older woman right behind me. We washed and dressed quickly. I checked out as she payed to have someone load my bags into her car; it was a new model Porsche, painted a stark white. It was ferocious, it surprised me. I wondered if it was her husband's. We talked during the entire ride, swapping information and stories. I learned that she was 33, no kids, had danced in London, and lived in Beverly Hills. The night we'd met, she was out with 2 employees; they had convinced her of how lonely she was. Her husband had been her one and only; he was a lawyer of some sort.

I had long since missed my morning flight, but had no problem scheduling another for the early afternoon. In front of the busy airport, before I could get out, she blushed a beet red and initiated a kiss. It was soft; a barely-there rubbing of her lips on mine. Then she sunk down in her tan leather seat and slanted her head away from me. I was astounded at how innocent and sweet she could be, then how uncontrollable in the throes of passion. I loved it.

"Goodbye LeeAnn, I'll be seeing you," was all I said as I exited the car; to which she replied, "Yes Genevieve."