The Girl Who Likes to Get Physical

I had been rubbing the inside of her upper thighs, and ran my fingers under the front of her panties, brushing my fingers lightly across her bush and mound. "So, what was the secret? Sex with a stripper?"

"Not exactly that, no," Dana said. "Voyeurism for him, and exhibitionism for me. He likes to watch me with other girls, and afterwards, I go and do for him what she did for me. It's completely reinvigorated everything about our sex life; it was never terrible, but now, it's something we look forward to again."

"So..." I licked one of my fingers and dropped it back below, towards her sex. "Is he watching us right now?" I asked, indicating the camera, as I tickled her clit through her panties with the one wet finger.

"Uh..." Dana looked instantly nervous. "If he were, would that be OK?"

"Well, it wouldn't be fair to take it this far and not give him the full show." I slid my way up her body, dragging my nipples along her thighs and belly before settling down on top of her chest. "You are an amazing storyteller, and you have me so fucking wet right now."

I leaned down and kissed Dana, our lips and tongues meeting for the first time. I'd never kissed someone that much older than me before; I don't know what I was expecting, but it was just as soft and warm as every other mouth I'd tasted before. There wasn't any hesitancy between us, but at the same time, there wasn't a desperation or recklessness to it. We'd been dancing the foreplay two-step for the better part of an hour, and if she was as wet as I was, we were both ready for much, much more.

We broke the kiss, and just gazed into each other's eyes for a few seconds. She reached up and brushed my hair away from my eyes. "You're so beautiful," she said, and craned her neck so she could kiss me again.

This time the kiss was more urgent and eager. My hand slipped under the hem of her panties, running through her bush, with my middle finger landing on top of her clit. A stroke or two was all she needed, as she was already soaking wet. I then slipped the finger inside her completely. She was looser than I normally was; whether that was due to circumstance or anatomy, I didn't care. It simply required me to insert another finger, and so I did.

She sighed at the first finger and gasped at the second. I kissed my way down her chest, and took her right nipple in my mouth. Her hand rested on top of my head, and guided it from one nipple to the other, and back again. My fingers continued to pump in and out of her, and her still loose pussy took a third finger without complaint or stress.

I kissed my way down her belly, and then down the front of her panties, planting a firm kiss on the wettest spot I found. I slid my hands under the waistband of her panties and she raised her hips in response. I pulled her underwear off, revealing a thick brown bush, trimmed neatly into a triangle to fit beneath her gym clothes. I combed my fingers through it with one hand; it was curly and wiry, longer than my own, but still undeniably erotic. I touched my tongue delicately to her clit at the same time that I slipped three fingers back inside her. It was like someone had pulled the trigger on a starter's pistol, because off she went.

Her back went stiff, and her whole body went rigid. Her hand, which had been gently resting on my head, grabbed my hair hard, and pushed my face into her, at least as much as she could. I continued to pump three fingers in and out of her while licking her clit, and my left hand worked its way back up to her right nipple, squeezing and playing with it. My movements were gentle at first, but then got more vigorous as I explored her, learning what this woman wanted.

"Oh, Katrina, holy shit." Dana moaned, half-shoving and half-stroking my head with her right. She became less rigid and limper, and started twitching harder with every stroke of my hand. "Don't stop, don't you fucking stop."

"Not until you tell me to." I continued to lick, tweak and thrust, and I realized she still had room for more. I slipped a fourth finger in, which was more than I'd ever taken, and it only seemed to make her squirm even harder.

"How...many...fingers...do you have inside me?"

"Four. You like that?"

"Oh yeah. Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it." I kept sliding my fingers in and out while licking her clit. I watched her twitch and moan, enjoying the sight of the effect my hands were having on her.

After a couple of minutes of this, I could both see and feel her orgasm approaching. Then she did something that shocked me.

"Katrina, more."

"More? What do you mean?"

"More fingers."

"Seriously?"

She opened her eyes long enough to look down at me, and made firm eye contact. "YES."

I moved my thumb down with the rest of my fingers, and tripped to slip it in. Her labia stretched easily, and my thumb slid in with the rest of my fingers. She gasped and moaned in ecstasy, and I resumed thrusting. I could no longer easily get my tongue on her clit with my whole hand in the way, so I reached up with my other hand and pinched her nipple.

Every thrust went deeper, and her pussy was just expanding to fit. I was hesitant to go any deeper for fear of hurting her.

Apparently, she sensed my hesitancy. Between moans, she managed to gasp out "Katrina ... are you holding back?"

"Well, yeah, I don't want..."

"Deeper. As deep as you can go. The whole thing if you can."

"OK. You asked for it."

I pushed my hand firmly into her. A little resistance at first, but she expanded to allow me entrance. My fingers ended up curled around as my knuckles -- the broadest part of my hand -- slipped in. I looked at her, concerned, but she just moaned another "Deeper!" And then my whole fist slid in, leaving only my wrist emerging from her pussy.

"Holy shit." We said at the same time, and then I looked up at her. Her eyes were closed tight, and her breathing was heavy and deliberate.

"Are you all the way in?" she asked. "The whole hand?"

"Oh yeah." I grinned. "You do this a lot?"

"No, not really, not at all. Give me a second."

I'd fingered other women before, but never had my whole fist inside of one. What struck me was how warm it was; it felt a lot hotter than what I was expecting. My fist almost felt locked in place -- the broadest part of my hand formed a plug, of sorts. I wasn't going anywhere without some serious effort.

"OK," Dana said, "I think I'm ready for you to move again."

I did what I could, but there wasn't a lot of room to move; it was more pushing and less thrusting. Luckily, it didn't take much; a little back and forth movement was enough for her. I was able to get my tongue back on her clit, and started licking at the same time I was pushing.

It didn't take more than a minute or two before I could feel her orgasm approaching. Her writhing and thrashing were increasing in intensity. The only part of her body that wasn't flailing around was her pussy, which was held in place by my fist.

"Oh God, oh God, don't stop, don't stop." Her thrashing got more violent and almost spastic. I increased the speed I was moving my fist, and kept pinching her nipples with my other hand, alternating between them every couple of seconds.

Her orgasm hit hard; her limbs froze, and her eyes flew open, and she stared at the ceiling, the only sign of life was a low moan. Her pussy clenched down on my hand, pulsing with the orgasm. She froze up and went completely rigid for a few seconds, and then her whole body shuddered, both inside and out.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only thirty seconds, she took a huge breath and looked up at me. "Wow."

"Wow, indeed. That was intense."

I carefully attempted to extract my hand from her. It was difficult, as her muscles weren't as giving as they had been before; I had to unfurl my fingers and slowly slip the whole hand out.

"Oh, ow, oh, ow, wow," she exclaimed as I was doing so. Once my hand slid out completely, her whole body twitched repeatedly for a few seconds. Once she calmed down, she looked up at me and shook her head a bit, "Oh man, that was weird. Going in was great, coming out was ... not great."

I laughed and slid back up her body and laid down on top of her. "That's a first for me; I had never done that before, either giving or receiving."

She kissed me gently on the lips. "That was intense; thank you very much."

"My pleasure."

"No, that was my pleasure." She pushed me off her, and rolled off the table, pushing me back down onto it. "Now, it's time for your pleasure."

"Oh!"

She grabbed my soaked through underwear and pulled them off. She wasted no time, kissing her way up my thighs, and touching her tongue to my clit. She slipped one finger in, then two, and started thrusting.

"Do you want more?" she asked.

"No, I'm good. Just keep doing what you're doing."

She might have been fairly new to the girl-on-girl scene, but she had learned quickly. She knew what to do, how to do it, and her oral skills made short work of me. I played up for the camera a bit, playing with my tits as she was going down on me, and the fact that I knew I was being watched added to my arousal.

It couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes before I came. I'm not usually much of a screamer, but I got pretty loud that time, and I wasn't playing that up for the camera. After my orgasm, she climbed back up the table and kissed me passionately for a few seconds before resting her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you." She said, gently kissing my shoulder.

"No, thank you." I protested.

"Not to fuck and run, but I actually have somewhere to be at eight o'clock."

"What?" I was stunned. Not really offended, but completely caught off guard. "Oh, right. Um, OK."

"Same time next week?"

"Sure. 5:30 on Monday, got it."

As I got dressed, she left the room. Once I was dressed, she returned to the room wearing a fuzzy white bathrobe, and she handed me $150 in cash. Then she quickly ushered me out the front door, in as polite a fashion as she could.

We spent the next year or so doing this on a regular basis, once a week. Once a month or so, I'd reschedule due to my monthly cycle, but for the most part, we spent an hour or two every week working out and then screwing. I had not had sex with another woman as often as I did with her, so we ended up exploring pretty much everything two women could do. The fisting wasn't a normal part of our sexual repertoire, but we did a lot of other things. Toys, scissoring (over-rated, by the way), double-headed dildos, strap-ons, you name it. And although sometimes we ended up in a different room than the gym, it was always done in clear view of a camera.

I suggested the idea of bringing a third person in, and she was OK with the idea of another woman, but had no interest in allowing a man to join us, and she had no interest in allowing her husband to join us. Unfortunately, finding a third girl for a lesbian threesome for someone's husband to watch via web cam isn't easy.

However, during that year, I started seeing Scott. We were getting pretty serious, and one weekend, he told me he was moving up to Oregon to take a job at Intel. He wanted me to move up there with him, and he wanted to be committed. Pure monogamy wasn't my normal thing, but at the time I really, really liked the guy. I told him I needed a few days to think about it, knowing full well that if I wanted to, I was going to have to quit training/fucking Dana.

I told her about it after that next week's session. We'd just finished having sex in her bedroom; I had gotten up and was looking out the window, watching the pool guy clean the pool in the July evening sun.

"So...this is going to have to be our last session."

Dana was aghast. "What? Why?"

"Well, you know the guy I was telling you about -- Scott?"

Dana sneered. "That guy sounds like an asshole. The way you talk about him, I don't understand what you see in him."

I sighed. "Yeah, well, I really like him. He's moving to Portland, and he wants me to go with him."

Dana looked crestfallen. "When are you moving?"

"Next month. He starts the new job September 1st."

"We have time for a few more sessions, then."

"I suppose. But only for training -- he wants monogamy."

"Even from girls? That might not be what he meant."

"No, he was explicit. He knows I have some girl-girl stuff in my past, and he definitely brought that up."

Dana walked up behind me and hugged me from behind. Both of us were naked and looking out the window.

"So this was it, huh? One last roll in the hay?"

"Afraid so. I told him I'd let him know this weekend, and I think I'm going to take him up on it. Doesn't mean we can't have another go at it tonight, though, if you like."

"I suppose. I'm just disappointed that we never got that threesome to happen. I've been talking to Irene, she's going to be down here this fall for a conference, I thought maybe we could make that happen."

I shrugged. "Sorry. That does sound like fun."

I then pointed at the guy cleaning the pool. "We could invite him in for a little fun, if you like." I was kind of joking, knowing she would never go for that. The pool guy looked in his early twenties, probably a college student out for the summer. He was not wearing a shirt, sporting only black shorts (maybe a swimsuit) and white sneakers and socks. He was clearly in pretty decent, if not spectacular, shape.

Dana laughed. "I know you're not really picky, but even you wouldn't sleep with a guy you had never said three words to before."

"Oh yeah?" I retorted. "Want to bet?"

She was taken aback. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Go ahead. Call my bluff; take my bet."

"Fine. What are the terms?"

"First, if I do this, you have to watch. Same room, he has to know you're there. Your husband-slash-camera can watch everything."

Dana paused. "I don't know if Richard would be OK with that."

"That's the deal. You want to watch me or not?"

"I do." She briefly looked concerned about getting in trouble, but quickly made up her mind. "Fine. But what do I get if you don't do it?"

"Pfft. You've seen these tits; do you think it's going to be a problem?"

"He might be married. Or have a girlfriend. Maybe he's sixteen."

"Good point. Fine, if it doesn't work, you don't have to pay me for today's session."

"And if you win?"

"You pay me double the normal fee today. As a going away tip."

I grabbed a fluffy white bathrobe off her dresser, put it on, and walked downstairs without waiting for an answer. I went to the kitchen, and opened her fridge. I looked at her beverage selection, and didn't like it. I opened the freezer, and found a can of frozen concentrate strawberry lemonade. I ran that under hot water to loosen it up, then mixed that up in a glass pitcher, put it on a platter with two glasses full of ice, and took it outside.

"Hello!" I called out to the young man who was currently changing the filters in the pump.

He looked up at me startled. His initial look of surprise turned to one of cautious optimism as he saw me, in a bathrobe, carrying a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.

"Hello...?" He responded. He wasn't a bad looking guy, but he didn't stand out. He had a slight air of social awkwardness about him, and while he was thin, he certainly wasn't muscular or built in any way. His sandy blonde hair was a little longer than I preferred, and wasn't terribly well kept; he had to keep brushing it out of his eyes.

"Hot day out here, isn't it?"

"Um, yeah. Sure is."

I pointed at a patio table next to the pool. "Care to join me for a drink?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to...."

"Oh, will your boss know?" I placed the platter down on the table, and bent over further than I needed to, giving him a nice view down the cut of the robe.

"I guess not." He sat down, and picked up a glass of lemonade. While he did so, I looked back up at the house and saw Dana in the window of her bedroom. I couldn't really see the expression on her face, but I could tell she was watching. She had also put on a robe once I left the room, so she wasn't standing completely naked in the window.

I held out my hand. "I'm Katrina."

He nervously shook my hand. "Austin."

"Nice to meet you, Austin." I beamed. "So, you're a pool cleaner?"

"Well, yeah, just for the summer, though."

"What are you doing in the fall?"

"Taking classes at SDCC."

"That makes you ... how old?"

Austin gave me an odd look. Then he looked down at the drink and back at me. "Twenty...one?" he asked.

I laughed out loud, a genuine laugh.

"There's no booze in there, don't worry, and this isn't a trap. How old are you, for real?"

"I'll be twenty next month."

"Perfect. What I need you for, you only need to be eighteen."

He looked confused, then crestfallen. "You need me to sign some petition? Or vote for gay marriage or something?"

Another genuine laugh. "Austin, you are truly a treasure. One final question: do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"OK, how do I put this sensitively... Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Yes!" His look of righteous indignation led me to believe he was telling the truth. And if not, well, he'd have a deflowering story that the Penthouse forum wouldn't believe.

I drained the rest of my lemonade in one drink, and then took him by his empty hand and led him into the house. His other hand held on to his lemonade, like some sort of liquid security blanket.

"So, anyway, Austin, I'm the personal trainer of the woman who owns this place. Mrs. Donahue, do you know her?"

Austin shook his head. "Not really, I just come in and clean the pool. I've seen her some times, but I pretty much just wave and go do my thing."

I was leading him up the stairs at this point. "Well, that's very professional of you. I bet your boss thinks very highly of you."

"I guess, I don't know. It's just a job. I do it, I get paid, I go home."

"Seems reasonable. I do the same thing when it comes to my job, you know. I come over to the house, Mrs. Donahue and I go through her personal training routine. We do our thing, then she pays me, then I go home. Just like your job."

"Okay."

"But since we spend so much time just chatting, we talk about everything. And I mean everything."

I think this was the first time he had an inkling where this was leading, so he just nodded.

"And today, we were looking out the window at you, and she thought you were a really good-looking young man, who she would have ravished were she still a single woman. But, alas, she's a happily married woman, and can't just go cheating on her husband every time she sees a hot guy.

"I pointed out, however, that I was still single. One thing led to another, and we ended up making a bet. Want to know that bet was?"

Austin was relieved to know the right answer for once. "Yes."

"Good answer!" I led him into the master bedroom. Dana was sitting in a wicker chair on the opposite side of the room from the four-poster bed. She was lounging seductively, wearing a barely tied bathrobe. Poor Austin stared at her, and then looked back at me.

"She bet me that I wouldn't fuck you right here, on this bed, while she watched."

Austin's jaw dropped open, and he stammered uselessly.

I opened my robe, and dropped it to the ground. Standing naked before him, I gently pushed him backwards toward the bed with one hand.

"Now, Austin," I said, smiling, "I hate losing bets. You wouldn't want me to lose this bet, would you?"

"No. No. Definitely not."

"Good." I pushed him back onto the bed, and groped his stiffening cock through his shorts.

"Oh god, Mrs. Donahue, it's so big." I exaggerated. It certainly was more than ample, but it wasn't anything particularly amazing. My experience with men was that they liked to be told how big their dicks were. And not-quite-twenty-year-old boys who had a certain level of social awkwardness really liked to be complimented on the size of their manhood.