The next day I rested and debriefed myself. By debriefed I mean thinking of all the hotness from the night before and using a vibrator to get myself off more than once. The day after that, I went to the office. I am a unicorn at the office, a mythical creature, because I am never there. 99% of my work can be done from not-the-office, and that was my deal when I signed on. I’m in sales, and there are no sales to be made at the office. They, my company, must’ve hired a new receptionist, cute, very cute. We chatted a bit, super nice girl, in her early twenties. I learned that she was a first generation American. Both her parents immigrated from Ireland with their parents when they were children. That explains her striking blue eyes and bright black hair. Yes, bright black. It almost looks fake. The shine, the sheen, matched with her ivory skin is a lethal combination. Her choker necklace completed the look, complimenting her short goth-like hair in the sexiest of ways. My mind wandered.
I got my work done in a hurry. I hate being at the office. Wearing too many clothes and conforming to rules isn’t really my thing. There’s no fun to be had at the office. But Emma, the new girl, she looked fun. Did the night at the hot tub turn me? Not a chance. I still love boys. But I had the sensual taste of a girl on my mind, and I was craving it again already. I was drawn to her. She was sweet but mysterious. I wanted more. It was nearly lunchtime. I convinced Emma to leave a little early for lunch. It didn’t take much convincing.
She drove. After all, she’s at the office every day, so she knows where the lunch cafes are. We talked, chatted, and exchanged flirtations along the drive. She was seeing someone, more than one someone, and neither of them were serious; fuckboys she called them. Her skirt was short, even shorter sitting down in the driver’s seat. I slowly moved over a little, toward the console, and put my elbow on the arm rest. I let my hand fall onto hers. She didn’t mind. I snuck my fingers in between hers, and we held hands.
The car came to a stop at a red light. I looked over at her, and she looked at me. She smiled and gave my hand a light squeeze. The light turned green. The car accelerated. I moved my hand from her hand to her thigh. She moved her skirt up a little, now there was a bit of skin exposed between the top of her stockings and the bottom of her skirt. That was enough of a hint to me; she was game. I let my hand wander farther up her thigh. She didn’t stop me. I got to the edge of her panties and she let out a sigh. I went farther still. My hand now rubbing her through the front of her panties. She sighed again, spread her thighs a little farther apart, and smiled. I unbuckled my seatbelt, leaned over, and put my head in her lap. I began to kiss her thigh. My mouth went farther up, tracing my tongue along her inner thigh. I had her skirt pushed all the way up. She darted her little car into a parking garage, found a spot, and parked.
By the time the car had stopped I was kissing around the edge of her panties. Her seat belt came off. She then helped me pull down her panties, and, somehow, she was able to wiggle them off with her heels still on. She leaned her seat back and I was tasting her. She was different than Amy, better even. She tasted like forbidden fruit. Maybe because we were at work and the tabooity of it all made it even hotter. Or maybe I was just so fucking turned by having sex with two different girls in three days.
Her moans were so sexy, so sensual. She let me know I was doing it right without saying a word. Her hands ran through my hair as she pushed me into her. I made out with her clit and teased her lips with my tongue. Her moans got louder, and she began to squirm. My face moved sideways, back and forth, along the edge of her pussy, tasting her, teasing her. Then, I did it. I pushed my tongue inside her. It drove her wild. She let out a scream and began to rub her clit while my tongue was fucking her. I was so into it; she was so into it. I heard her tell me not to stop. “Please, don’t stop, I’m so fucking close!” I kept licking her. I had no plans of stopping until she came in my mouth. She was right, she was close. A few seconds later her body began to shake, and she screamed. I didn’t stop until she pushed me away.
“Fuck. That was…amazing,” she said.
I smiled, “Yeah?”
“Jordan, are you kidding me? You have to come for lunch more often!”
“How about drinks later tonight?” I asked.
After making Emma cum in the driver’s seat of her car, and, fuck, she tasted more than incredible, we exchanged numbers. Oh, we also had lunch, but who cares about that. Emma had to stay at the office the rest of the day, but not me. I made a few sales calls, returned home, and changed into something more comfortable. While undressing, I couldn’t resist sending Emma more than a few playfully teasing selfies.
One flirty text led to another, and it wasn’t long until I was on my bed with nothing but a tee shirt on. The fingers on my left hand were teasing my pussy, while I sexted Emma with my right. Five minutes into our steamy text convo, I was dripping wet. She told me to grab a toy, set my phone down, and not worry about replying. It didn’t take me long to cum at all. After that, we decided when and where to meet later that night.
I decided on a cute black dress, flirty but not slutty. I’ve never dated a girl before. Was this a date? I mean, we basically had sex in her car; we sexted each other throughout the day, and now we were going out. I was having my first date with a girl! I’m not even sure what you are supposed to wear. My black dress would have to do. A step below super classy, a step above slutty, it seemed to fit almost any occasion. It highlights my boobs perfectly, without overdoing the cleavage. It’s short, but not too short. Well, maybe a little, depends on who you ask. Stockings? Almost always. I curled my hair to achieve blonde locks of sexiness. Red lipstick and a pearl necklace finished the look.
She was there when I arrived. She texted me two minutes before I parked to let me know she had gotten us a table. Turns out, she wasn’t waiting long. She had ditched her work attire for something more nightly. And she looked amazing! Pink lips, diamond earrings and a movie star smile. As if her gorgeous face wasn’t enough, her neckline plunged the perfect amount, just enough for the imagination to run wild, and I have to say, mine did. We exchanged hugs a quick kiss on the lips. Her lips were delicious. I wanted more and I hoped this night didn’t end at the bar. We ordered drinks and continued chatting; about work, about life, about everything. I told her about my naughty encounter at Amy’s place, and she told me about her two fuckboys. She loved my story and was super curious. Turns out, she had never fooled around with a girl, ever, until earlier that day.
We moved from a bar height table to one of the plush couches along the wall. This place was full of elegance. A dark, subdued little wine bar that hadn’t been open all that long. I had been once before, on a weekend, and it was quite busy. But tonight, a school night, there wasn’t much of a crowd. Perfect! After another glass of wine, Emma’s hand made its way to my thigh, above my stockings, onto my skin, pushing my dress up just a little. I moved closer to her. I looked around, no one was watching. We had this part of the bar to ourselves. The waitress had just filled our glasses, so she wouldn’t be back anytime soon. I decided to go for it. I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers. She kissed me back. Our tongues touched, playfully, at first, and then deeper. Her lips tasted like rose petals, and the way her tongue felt on mine more than turned me on. On a plush, red velvet sofa, in a dimly lit wine bar, Emma had her first kiss from a girl.
I broke our lip-lock, smiled, and relished the taste of her. I didn’t want to attract a crowd. She was blushing and smiled back. “That was nice,” she whispered, “I want more.” She leaned into me and frenched me again. Her kiss was divine. I felt her up as we made out, squeezing her breasts through her devilishly sexy dress as our tongues touched. Our lips parted. Another drink of wine. The waitress came over shortly after and asked if we needed refills. In unison, we both said, “Just the check please.”