Anything She Wants Page 6

  “It’s your dress, duck, it’s too tight. I can’t quite fasten it.”

  In my head, I saw the last three frantic weeks unravel like a reel of old film, the desperate cramming for exams, the midnight hours, the endless rounds of pizza and beer. No wonder my dress no longer fitted, I must have gained at least ten pounds.

  Cassandra seemed to read my mind. “Oh dear, oh dear.” She smiled. “Exam cram was it, duck? Put on a pound or two, have we. Not to worry, I’ll soon fix you up.”

  “How?” I demanded, a fraction of an inch away from tears. “How are you going to make me lose all that weight in fifteen minutes?”

  She smiled again. “Well, my goose, maybe you do know all those law books of yours inside out, but there are some things your mother should have told you. Like the healing properties of a decent foundation garment, for one. Let me see, what do we have in stock… Oh dear, I’ve nothing in your size, duck. Looks like you’ll have to borrow mine. Unzip me, there’s a love!”

  She stepped out of the inky black dress like a mermaid shedding her skin, her big round body trussed up in a shiny foundation garment that glistened in the mellow lamplight like gleaming white sharkskin. Utilitarian suspenders held up silky tan stockings, so sheer that they were almost nude, and she wore no bra beneath the tenacious elastane webbing that wrapped itself so tightly around her girth. Possibly, no panties either.

  “Here, undo me.” Her big breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, and despite her mundane remarks, I could sense that the ritual stripping was as arousing to her as it was to me.

  I fumbled with hooks and eyes with trembling fingers, breathing in the scent of her hair as I denuded her, eventually peeling the girdle off her like a latex mould, and she stepped out of her bounds and stood naked before me. She was astounding, her body big, white and untouched, like the virgin snows of Antarctica, breasts like firm cherry-topped blancmanges, deliciously rounded belly and hips, and, oh my god, what a cunt. Her pudenda was high and full, like a codpiece, and smooth and shiny, freshly shaved, crinkly pink labia spilling out from her deep and inviting slit.

  I knew I was staring but I didn’t care, and I let my too-tight dress drop to my feet again and stood facing her in just my bra and pants.

  “You’ll need to take that bra off if you want to get into this, duck,” she whispered, watching me intently, holding up the corselette but meaning something entirely different. “And maybe those knickers too…”

  I nodded and reached behind me for the catch on my bra and let it fall to the floor with the dress. I had on a matching top-and-panties set in black lace tonight—I’d wanted to look good for her—but now I just wanted to get naked as soon as I could, and my own sizeable breasts quivered with excitement, my nipples hard and firm like glossy black olives, as my bra hit the ground.

  “Help me with these?” My voice was barely audible as I slid my fingers under the waistband of my panties.

  “Certainly,” Cassandra replied with a grin, running her fingers inside my underwear and copping a feel of my thick bush before she slowly pulled my knickers down, leaving them at my knees and leaning back to survey me like Pygmalion inspecting the sculpture of his beloved.

  “I knew you were one of us, I just knew it,” she purred, her face very close to mine. “But I think I’m your first, am I right, duck?”

  “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” I breathed, barely able to contain my excitement, her body so close and so naked, her scent overpowering.

  Cassandra laughed. “Eager little madam, aren’t we?” she teased, her lips almost upon mine, her breath hot on my face. Close up, she smelt of lipstick and face-powder, and something else… peppermint. She’d sprayed her mouth with breath freshener in case a kiss was imminent.

  “Shut up and kiss me,” I replied, drawing her to me, and suddenly her mouth was on mine. She landed a good firm kiss on me, her lips eating me up, her tongue exploring me. I could feel my knees turning to water and my cunt… well, that had already turned to water when I first undressed her.

  She was rubbing herself against me like a horny dog, and her smooth pussy felt good on my thigh as she slid it slowly up and down. Our kiss became stronger and deeper, her tongue filling my mouth. I could feel her small hands all over my ass, making me want to throw her down on the floor and fuck her blindly.

  “You’ve got a bum to die for, duck,” she gasped, kneading my firm fat flesh. “I can’t wait to get my tongue down there and worm it all the way up your tight little corn-hole.”

  I blushed scarlet again at the lewdness of her remark, but at the same time felt so aroused that there was no liberty that I would not permit her to take with me.

  “Oh, please don’t tease me any more,” I moaned. “Just fuck me, any way you like, but just do it to me.”

  She laughed and pushed me down into the big soft chair, pulling my panties off as I landed before parting my legs. My cunt opened like a newly split fig, all hot pomegranate pinks and ruby reds, everything slick with moisture like a hothouse flower covered in sap that lures unsuspecting insects to their deaths.

  “Nice.” She looked me over with lust-slaked eyes, her fingers already in my thick panther fur, touching and probing, pulling my wide open pussy lips further apart.

  “Fuck me.” I still wasn’t sure how she would perform this. I had, as she had so rightly guessed, never been with a woman before, but I’d once seen an old Rodox magazine where two girls had done it, one strapping on a rubber cock to penetrate her lover’s furry wonderland.

  Cassandra, though, had different ideas, and she first straddled my upper leg and rubbed her own cunt along it, letting me smell her wetness and arousal, then she suddenly dropped to her knees between my thighs and began to kiss and lick my pussy.

  “Do you like that?” she asked between mouthfuls. “You want more?”

  “I love it,” I sighed. Maybe I groaned. I don’t know, I was passing through the gates of heaven and wondering why it had taken me so long to discover the key.

  “Then pull your slit wide open for me and expose your clit.” Her breathing came hoarse and ragged. “Let me get my tongue right up you.”

  I blushed yet again but did as she asked, exposing all my pink and secret places for her as her tongue found my clitoris, which was up like a big swollen cashew nut and protruding well beyond its tender protective hood. She was soon sucking and licking me, her fingers already deep up my crack as I came bucking and shuddering to the biggest and longest orgasm that I had ever experienced, my hot spendings shooting out of me, all over her eager face.

  “Think you grasped that?” she asked, her voice distorted by lust, as she pulled me roughly from the chair and onto the rug. “Think you can give my little pink pussy the tongue-fuck of its life?”

  “Oh yeah,” I sighed, kissing her big cherry-red nipples as I worked my way down to her delicious shaven haven, trying to tease her, but too desperate to taste her to be subtle.

  My lips were hovering above her long deep slit and I could smell her arousal, every pheromone in her body calling out to me like pounding voodoo drums. I planted a tentative kiss on her pudenda and she groaned, so I moved lower and kissed her bare crack, felt her wetness and was lost. A mad thing, I plunged my tongue into her and tasted her, felt all her moisture and softness, but also her big hard clit, so huge and swollen that it stuck out from her immense slit like a cock.

  “Like my big fat fanny, do you, duck?” she whispered as I slid an exploratory finger inside. “Want to fuck me with a big rubber cock?”

  “No, just my tongue, like you did to me,” I managed to reply, suddenly realising that I was desperate for seconds.

  “Good girl,” she said. “So bring that big furry monster of yours up here while you do it. I think it’s time I had another suck of that great big clitty of yours. Oh, that’s right, pull me apart, spread me in two, push your fingers right up me and do what I did to you.”

  I groaned ascent as she fucked me with one hand and wormed the
index finger of the other right up my little pink rear-hole, urging me to violate her own tight little starfish in the same way. Her orgasm tore its way from somewhere deep inside her as I probed and licked, her honey juices like sweet nectar as she came again and again, my own second coming eventually coinciding with her final eruption.

  “I love you,” I gasped, my fingers still inside her, her sopping wet cunt and asshole throbbing all around them.

  “Of course you do, duck,” she replied, getting ready to fuck me for the third time.

  * * *

  Our love affair, such as it was, lasted slightly less than a year, after which time I accepted a job offer from my firm to relocate to a northerly branch for a fast track promotion.

  But I have saved and invested my earnings wisely and next year on my fiftieth birthday, I shall retire and return to my home town. Cassandra, of course, will not be there, her shop long-since demolished and her memory merely a legend, but there are bars in the dark streets of that city where women such as I may find love. So, when the cherry blossom hangs heavy like snow on the groaning boughs, I will return to the boulevards of my youth, and lay Cassandra’s ghost to rest, walking out joyfully to meet my destiny and, maybe, just maybe, I will even wear the dress…

  Behind Closed Doors

  Kelly Lawrence

  Pip paused as she approached Bianca’s door, hearing the unmistakable whimpers and sighs that signified she had company. Her mistress’ moans were high and girlish and, Pip would wager on it, faked. Even so, she couldn’t help feeling aroused as she imagined Bianca inside, her chestnut curls—brushed and preened by Pip herself—falling over her large creamy breasts and soft peach nipples. When it came to pouring her mistress’ bath and attending to her, Pip found it almost impossible not to stare at Bianca’s breasts, not to imagine fondling and sucking at them until she moaned with a pleasure that was definitely real.

  A few times she was sure Bianca had caught her looking; once they had shared a secret smile that gave Pip hope that her mistress might share her fancies, but she had made no move on her maid and it was not Pip’s place to dare. She had to be content with looking, and thinking about her in the quiet of night, her own hand between her legs, fantasising it was Bianca’s hand or better yet, her mouth.

  A guttural groan broke Pip’s reverie and quickly dampened her arousal. Pip grimaced with distaste as she heard Lord Rafferty’s animal-like noises. She would bet he rutted like an animal too. A sweaty, hairy little man, Pip didn’t know how Bianca could let him touch her, and not just because men weren’t to her taste. Even a woman who loved men of all shapes and sizes would surely struggle to find anything desirable about Lord Rafferty. Still, he was Bianca’s wealthiest and most prestigious patron, and so Pip knew she must keep those thoughts to herself. She hurried away, stifling a giggle as she heard him let out a noise that sounded exactly like a braying donkey.

  Twenty minutes later, Pip was showing him out, trying not to laugh as she saw Bianca rolling her eyes comically behind his back. As soon as he was gone, Bianca followed Pip into the room she kept solely for bathing, where Pip, anticipating her lady’s needs, had already filled the tub with hot water and sweet smelling oils.

  She helped Bianca unpin her hair and remove her shift, then padded back as she watched her step into the tub, admiring her mistress’ sumptuously round buttocks and strong, fleshy thighs.

  Voluptuous and fair, with huge amber eyes and pouting lips, Bianca’s beauty was the toast of the town, and her company highly sought after—by the men anyway. She had few female friends or visitors, but then Pip supposed that must be normal for a successful courtesan. Still, it seemed to her a lonely way to live, and gave her mistress little opportunity to discover the delights of a woman’s body, assuming she wanted to, of course. Pip blushed as the image of Bianca naked and spread-eagled before her bloomed in her mind, and turned to folding towels, trying to hide her flushed cheeks.

  Bianca was lying back in the bath tub, closing her eyes in obvious bliss as the warm water enfolded her body. She looked beautiful, like the paintings of lush women that hung in her drawing room. So different to Pip’s own lean, almost elfin looks. Pip wondered how they would look together, her long limbs entwined with Bianca’s curvier flesh. The thought made her shudder just as Bianca opened her eyes and stared at her, and Pip dropped her gaze, hoping her mistress hadn’t seen the flash of desire in her eyes.

  Bianca regarded her for a long moment, her expression unreadable, then startled her by asking, “Do you not have a young man, Pip? Any offers of marriage?”

  At the unexpected question, Pip nearly dropped the towels. Turning, her eyes still down, she answered, “No, Miss.”

  “But you have had lovers? Come now, don’t be shy.”

  Bewildered by this sudden interest, Pip shook her head. “I have found such things are... not to my taste, Miss.”

  Bianca frowned. There were a few ways in which she could interpret that comment, as Pip well knew. Women in the lower classes were often not treated well by men, but judging by Bianca’s actions, she guessed that was far from the meaning behind her quizzical look. She sat up, arching her back so that her breasts were pushed out, the warm water cascading off them.

  Seeing the lascivious smile on her face, Pip averted her eyes, unsure how she should respond.

  Bianca gave a feline grin and ran her hands across her breasts, tweaking her own nipples. Pip looked up in shock and her face flooded with colour.

  Bianca held out a hand to her. “Is this more to your liking?” she asked softly.

  Pip swallowed hard, unsure if her mistress was merely toying with her, as she so often did with the various men who vied for her affections. Bianca kept her hand outstretched. Pip put down the towels and pattered over to her. She took the offered hand and kneeled down by the tub so their faces were level. Bianca guided her hand to her breasts, kneading Pip’s hand under it before letting her own drop away.

  Pip paused for a moment, then, seeing the look of sheer lust on Bianca’s face, continued fondling her breasts, tweaking and rolling her nipples in turn. Her own body tingled and throbbed under her starchy maid’s uniform, its material uncomfortable and confining. She wanted Bianca to strip it from her as she had so often undressed her.

  At that thought, she leaned over and bent her head to Bianca’s chest, licking around her nipple before drawing as much as she could into her mouth. She heard Bianca whimper and saw her slip one hand between her thighs, opening her legs and moving her fingertips in quick circles. Pip licked frantically, then lifted the fingers of her other hand to Bianca’s mouth. Bianca sucked at Pip’s fingers while Pip continued nibbling at her nipple, leaning further into the tub until she was nearly tumbling into the water herself. Bianca sucked harder on Pip’s fingers, her hands moving faster between her legs, and stifled a cry as her hips bucked almost out of the water. The sensation of her hand on her clit, with the water lapping around her thighs, and of Pip’s mouth hard on her nipple while her fingers invaded her mouth, seemed to tip Bianca over the edge into an intense release.

  She put her hand on the back of Pip’s head, almost crushing her to her chest, and Pip felt the waves of her mistress’ climax as they rippled through her body. Once they had subsided, Bianca’s hands fell languorously at her sides, her head tipping back over the rim of the tub. Pip straightened up, smoothing down her dress and hair.

  “Thank you,” Bianca murmured, smiling lazily, her voice rich with satisfaction. Pip smiled, feeling suddenly awkward.

  “Fetch the towel and help me out of the tub,” Bianca said, her voice back to its usual imperiousness. Pip obeyed, of course, but as she moved she felt an insistent pulse between her legs and the stab of her own unfulfilled desire. She bit her lip in frustration. Now she was to go back to her duties as if nothing had happened, to wait until she could finally crawl onto her mattress later and bring herself to climax, fantasising about Bianca, as she had done nearly every night since her employment had begun.

>   But as she wrapped the towel around Bianca’s naked body and turned to fetch her shift, her mistress laid a hand on her arm.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  Pip leaned forward, almost in wonder, and brushed Bianca’s lips with her own. Bianca kissed her hungrily, stretching Pip’s mouth open with her own. She tasted of perfume and rouge and woman, and Pip responded with a moan, exploring Bianca’s mouth with her tongue. Bianca let the towel fall so that she was naked once again, and tugged impatiently at Pip’s dress.

  “Take it off,” she said, sounding more imploring than commanding.

  Pip undressed with shaking fingers.

  “All of it.”

  Pip stood before her mistress, proudly displaying the lean curves and strong lines of her body, and Bianca ran her hands over her skin with an admiring gaze. Pip saw her own desire reflected in her mistress’ eyes.

  “You’ve been with other women?” Bianca asked. It was more a statement than a question.

  Pip nodded. “Yes, Miss. A few.” It was not always easy to find another woman to take as a lover. Such things were shunned by polite society, either denounced or simply ignored as if they didn’t exist.

  “You can show me a few things then, perhaps,” Bianca said, trailing her hands up over Pip’s flat stomach and small, springy breasts. Her fingertips scratched lightly over her nipples, hardening them instantly.

  “Let’s go to the bedchamber.” Grabbing Pip’s hand, Bianca headed to the door, popping her head around to ensure there was no sign of the housekeeper or any of the other servants.

  “Come on,” she urged.

  Hand in hand, they ran naked across the corridor to Bianca’s bedchamber, both of them giggling at their daring. Inside, Pip pushed Bianca against her dressing table, kicking the door shut behind her. They were not mistress and maid now, not for this night at least. She ran her hands up and down Bianca’s body, pushing a thigh in between her legs and feeling the hot wetness of Bianca against her.

  Bianca ran a hand down her thigh. “I would love to see you in breeches,” she whispered into Pip’s ear. “Those legs are too fine to hide under that plain dress.” She pulled back a little, her eyes sweeping over Pip.