R Simpson - Massage parlor wife

"I suppose…"

Noticing Terry wasn't too talkative, Laura picked up the slack. "What did some of the men want you to do?"

"Only one wanted some action…"

"Well, what did he want?" Laura asked, obviously curious for details.

"He wanted somebody to suck his as out," Terry said frankly.

"And did you?"

"Yes, I did," she smiled. "And you know what?"

"What, baby?" Laura asked, eager to know her response to the evening's action.

"I sucked him good! I think I sucked his ass out better than any other chick ever did."

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Laura giggled.

"Don't be surprised, baby – but I am – terribly ashamed."

"Why should you be?" Laura demanded, braking abruptly for a red light, and turning to look directly into Terry's eyes. "After all, you wore just trying to please him. Lots of men would give anything if their wives would give them a little stimulating action like that. But, instead they get shunted off and out of despair – they come to us."

"Yeah, but what would my husband think?" Terry said tightly, practically seeing Brad's hands around her neck, wringing it.

"Baby," Laura admonished her, as she drove into the Lakeshore Towers garage, "He'd be furious – of course. That would only be natural. But, if, you got a load of all the sucking and fucking he's doing on those business trips you'd be just as uptight, let me tell you."

"Do you think he plays around plenty…"

"Well, I'm sure he does – if he's like the men I've met in my line of work. They're on expense accounts, and they mark us down as entertainment – isn't that sweet of them?"

"Real sweet," Terry shrugged. Laura got out of the car, and Terry followed. As they went up the elevator, Laura smiled, "You need a nightcap – why don't you drop into my place before you turn in. Your husband is gone – so you might as well."

"Why not?" she smiled, and when the elevator came to the right floor, they both got off.

"Doesn't it make it convenient for us both to live on the same floor?" Laura smiled.

"Yes – it does," Terry nodded agreeably.

Laura opened the door for her, and she went in, and walked over to the blue sofa and sat down. She admired the white shag rugs, the pink marble cocktail tables and the pale sofa. The apartment was feminine, and beautiful – just like Laura.

"What can I fix you, dear?"

"Vodka and orange juice," Terry smiled. Soon the two women had their drinks, and were looking out on Lake Michigan's choppy waters. A loud clap of thunder sounded, and then the rain began coming down in buckets.

"We just made it," Laura nodded, "and am I ever glad – I hate to drive in the rain on Lakeshore Drive. They don't slow down one bit – and that's why they have so many accidents when the pavement's slick with rain."

"Laura," Terry said, after a drink had loosened her up, "could I have a refill?"

"For goodness sake's yes," she replied, "I'll bring the bottle over. Just let me get the fireplace going. We need to have something to warm us up on a rainy night."

Going over to the fireplace, she lit it. The flickering light through the shiny brass fan cast a warm glow.

"A little music," she smiled, turning on the stereo, and then going to the bar and bringing the bottle back, she put it down with a thud, "…and a little booze."

Eagerly, Terry reached out and poured herself a drink. No sooner had she had that one downed, than she had another.

"Aren't you overdoing it?" Laura smiled nervously, sipping her drink slowly.

"I don't know – am I?" Terry laughed, kicking her shoes off.

"Take it all off," Laura laughed, "Baby, if running around my house stark naked makes you happy – strip!"

"Not a bad idea," Terry slurred drunkenly.

"Not a bad idea, at all – at all!"

Soon she was parading her naked body around the house much to the complete distress of her girlfriend.

"It's a good thing I don't have a horny boyfriend coming over tonight," she observed.

"I – I love that Hawaiian music," Terry giggled, as she let her body move to the romantic music of the islands.

But, Laura well knew the meanings of the young woman's uninhibited naked dance movements, as she wiggled her middle when the music called for it, and flopped her bottom around, as well as her breasts perilously close to Laura's face.

"Why don't you dance with me?" Terry smiled.

"In the buff?"

Shaking her bobby rhythmically, in perfect time to the music, she slurred, "How else, honey? Doesn't everybody?"

"No," Laura assured her, "Everybody doesn't, but I will – I like to be in the nude – when you've got a good body – why not let it be seen? Right?"

"Right, sweetheart – right you are," Terry giggled through a drunken haze, now dancing slowly to the sound of the violins, and the firelight cast a glamorous aura around her body as Laura turned the lamp off, and began undressing.

"I need another drink," Terry insisted.

"That's what you think. You don't need another drop, now, just relax, take it easy, baby!"

Laura didn't take long to bare her body, for this was the moment she'd worked to get to for a long, long time. As she let her panties slip off, and her bra fell to the floor, she stood there, proud and naked.

"Dance, girl, dance," Terry insisted, "Like one of those topless, bottomless babes, my husband likes to watch in those smelly old beer bars – shake it…"

To her surprise, Laura knew how to put some emphasis into her hip movements, flinging her breasts around so they were tantalizing, and appealing.

Applauding, Terry told her, "You are tremendous!" Laughing drunkenly, she said, you were tremendous, luv – you really were! Just then, the loud clap of thunder sent drunken Terry into a tizzy. "Wha-What was that?"

"Just thunder, honey – that's all."

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the living room like daylight, and the two naked women looked at each other.

That look told the truth. They were totally turned on, and eager to get in bed together. They ran to each other, and as the thunder clapped again, they squeezed together. It was as if they pressed together as a protection against the angry storm. The moment their breasts crushed against each other, the electricity flashed through their bodies. And, pressing together, their lips met in a passionate kiss. Now, Terry knew only a woman's breasts pressing against another woman's breasts, possessed the impact and stimulation that was happening to her now in this erotic moment.

As Laura's arms went around her, skipping down to her buttocks, she opened her mouth, and Laura's tongue slid inside. Together, their tongues excited each other.

"Ohhhh – ahhhh – yes – yes, I – I like that," Terry panted.

"Let's lie down in front of the fireplace," Laura suggested, "I'll get a beach towel and be right back."

Terry went over to the fireplace, watching its light as it forever rose and fell in a ceaseless rhythm all its own. When she heard Laura coming behind her, she was so fascinated with the firelight, she didn't even turn around. When she did, she had a big surprise. There was Laura, with a dildo strapped to herself, and the striped beach towel stretched out for them to perform the act.

"Oh, Laura," she giggled in nervous surprise, "You – You've got one of those – those…"

"Dildos, darling – dildos…"

Instinctively, Terry knew what to do. She wanted to feel another woman thrusting inside her, so she stretched out on the towel, and the shadows and light from the fireplace, filtered through the fan-screen gave an eerie glow to Laura's body as she straddled her, and started sliding the dildo into her.

"Oh, baby…" she sighed, "I love it. I just love it!"

Her arms opened, and as the dildo slid smoothly into her slit, she got another look at Laura's shaved vagina. The plastic penis rode her, and she gripped it tight.