Arthur Alexander - Emily_s Lips

Angela, at least, wasn't showing off. She was just having fun. With great whoops of glee she soared up out of the water, her body flashing in the sun, and sank down again. She raced. She spurted water from her mouth. She swam on her back with her pink nipples just rippling the surface. She climbed onto Adrian and dunked him again and again until he stopped being aware of himself and took off after her with a bellow of revenge. But she swam circles around him, for all of his great musculature.

She was absolutely in her element, a water-rat if Emily had ever seen one, a seal, a very dolphin! She flowed through the water with her white body glimmering. She turned and twisted like a dervish, propelling herself faster and faster until she was a whirl of foam. And then she rose up in a surface dive, her blond legs pointing momentarily at the sun and her blond cunt slipping downward into the water. Emily watched her glide under the surface, wriggling, swim ming horn the neck like a fish, until she disappeared in the depths. For long moments, she was invisible. And then, from an entirely different part of the lake, she erupted to the surface and up into the air like a leaping mermaid. The water shattered around her, the sun danced upon the spray, her breasts and arms and belly were silver with light!

It was too much. How could you stay out of the water with an advertisement like that dancing before you? To hell with Adrian and his foolishness! But Emily left her bra and panties on.

Indeed, the water was warm. On the surface, that is. She soon discovered that treading water made her legs and feet numb. But if she floated on her back… Ah, this was the life!

And then there was Angela churning around her, diving under her, leaping next to her, laughing and shoving and jolting her out of her introversion. The two woman played happily, splashing and doing their best to out-maneuver each other. There really wasn't any contest however. Emily had never seen anyone swim like Angela.

And, besides, after a time, her knee really did begin to pain her. So, tired and nicely chilled, she climbed out onto the island and began to explore.

The island was made mainly of boulders over which she had to climb. There were struggling trees here and there. The rocks were hot from the sun, and she lay stretched out upon one for a few minutes to allow the sun to drive away her chill. She felt very clean and quite at peace. She chuckled to herself. When she had been a girl and had sunk into a brown study, her mother had always shooed her out to run around the block. And it still worked. A little exercise did wonders for her mood.

After a while, warm, she rose to explore further. Angela was still yodelling and splashing about, and Adrian, she supposed, was still swimming his langorous laps. It occurred to her that she might strip off her underwear here, now that she felt better, and allow the sun to play all over herself, but she decided that such an action would probably make her self-conscious and horny, neither of which did she anticipate with pleasure. There was plenty to occupy her attention without the auto-eroticism of nakedness. The island boasted all sorts of beautiful nooks and cranies. In fact, she discovered one which was quite special. About as big as a room, a patch of gras s and flowers lay hidden between the walls of grey rock in such a way that it was completely enclosed. The sun was very strong here, and the hot, flowery air positively intoxicating. An enchanting plac e. She knelt to sniff at the flowers. She sat among the long grasses. Eventually, of course, she lay down on her back and closed her eyes.

The warmth of the sun caressed her. As she might have known, it began to do things to her. Oh, yes indeed. It just felt so good to lie here with the sun baking upon her.

Her entire body grew limp and dr owsy in the heat. A light film of sweat covered her from head to foot, ready to cool her should any breeze chance to come along. But none did. Instead, the heat seemed to redouble itself upon her. It played upon her forehead and cheeks. She felt it upon her c hin and throat. The heat baked into her shoulders and the wide slopes of her big breasts. The frail material of her bra, stretched so very tightly across those pale mountains, did not shield her tits from the action of the heat. The fingers of the sun pushed right through the barrier and sank themselves deeply into the soft flesh underneath. Her nipples were melted down into wide, brown puddles upon the caps of her loose breasts. Likewise, the sun warmed her belly, where it sloped down from the prominence of her chest to the rim of her panties. Lying down as she was, her hipbones were raised against the skin of her abdomen, and in consequence they shone whitely in the sun. And her panties, like her bra, were unable to protect her pubic mound from the gaze of the sky's eye. Her wide and matted cunt hair bristled under the caress, and the hotness carried down through its kinky layer to the soft, pouting flesh below. She felt the lingering fingers of the sun gently smooth and separate her cunt lips. Almost without willing that it happen, she parted her thighs a little and tilted her moistening gash upwards to allow the sun more freedom to beat upon her cunt. Her slit began to ooze syrup from its hidden reaches until her membranes were coated with a layer of cunt spend which corresponded to the sweat which had begun to pool and run across her body.

In her bedazzled state, her mind began to slip away from her control. And as it slipped, she found that it veered unerringly to a picture which she had been trying to avoid all morning: Karen's hairy sex tipped up and waiting eagerly upon the edge of their bed. Again, she felt the strange whirling with which she had seen it there for the first time. She had been unable to draw away, unable too to comprehend what was happening. She had not known, and yet she had known, what she was doing. Again, she saw that long, deep cunt grow closer. She saw how the lips parted stickily as her hands spread Karen's thighs. Once more, she caught that intoxicating smell and felt the first tickling of stray hairs upon her cheeks and lips. And then, as her eyes came too close to the urgent mound to focus upon it, she experienced anew the exotic moment when her lips actually glued themselves to that flushed and running mouth and offered to kiss. Hesitantly, her tongue had slipped between her lips and then those of her lover to sink down into Karen's very body and to taste the cunt water which welled there.

The difference had not been so very great. After all these years of masturbating, of learning the secrets of her own cunt so that her beating off might be ever more exciting, she had learned that another woman's cunt was fundamentally the same. It had been, really, like sucking on her own cunt. Perhaps this was the closest one could come, in a curious sort of way, to making love with oneself. She adored caressing herself and making herself come. She loved to suck on her own nipples, and yet the complete self-absorption was denied her. But here it was, with another woman. It had been a simple act, uncomplicated, fundamentally aimless. Its purpose only was pleasure. And there was none of the harshness which always characterized heterosexual sex. For, with men, it was always a battle. Even Arthur, as gentle and considerate as he was, desired to impale her. That was, in fact, what she loved about men. But the utter sensuousness of masturbating, the complete involvement with herself and her own pleasure which provided her with orgasms of monumental power, was as nothing compared to the totality of making love with yourself another woman.

Everything was so different with a man. Now Adrian, for example. Infuriating man!

Considerate, yes, even gentle, and yet such a man with his Big Cock. They thought you cared about their muscles and the stupid size of their cocks, but you cared what was inside instead. Who would look twice at that long hunk of Adrian's penis curling down over his balls? So what? It was just another long, brown, swaying cock, just another powerful-looking cock ready to stand up stiffly out of its forest of hair. So silly, the ease with which they all get excited. All you have to do is run your fingers lightly over the warm length of the damned thing, and it begins to stir in your hand like a bird. With Arthur now, all she would have to do was to show him the back of her cunt, to lie on her stomach with her legs open, and his thick cock would be erect in an instant. And they thought they were so powerful! Show them a cunt, and they were like putty in your hands. A provocative pose, and they were all set to go, and you had a cock to take care of. Adrian would be the same way, of course. For all of his dumb muscles, she bet, it wouldn't take her long. All she'd have to do would be to take it in her mouth for a moment. Even without doing anything. It would be enough simply to hold its wide head between her warm lips and to swirl her saliva around its shaft. She'd feel it growing in her mouth, feel it pressing against her tongue and cheeks until it was too big for her, and then she'd have him. All she'd have to do then would be to suck on its straining, red head for a while, to run her mouth tightly up and down its length, and she'd feel that sudden, hot flooding at the back of her mouth, pulse after pulse like blood, spurting into her throat, and she'd taste the slippery, salty flavor which so aroused her.