Training Trixie

By Trixie T

Did Susan take advantage of my innocence? Maybe. Would I do it again if given a choice? In a heartbeat!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WSIC EBooks Ltd.
• Release date: Dec 14, 2010
• ISBN: 9781926879116

Trixie T

Trixie T is a young author just getting into her own, in more ways than one. Trixie has been WSIC EBooks Ltd. best selling author for six months running. Join her in her sexual odyssey and enjoy. Note from Trixie: Hello folks, I recently had a request from a dear friend of mine to help him fulfill his fantasy and if you know anything about me, it is that I am all about fulfilling fantasies. His fantasy intrigued me...write a book about my fantasies, my realities...I am really enjoying this new experience and I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as am enjoying the writing. To that end I thought it I would allow my readers to share their own fantasies and realities with me and who knows, maybe it will end up in one of my books. So come on, don't be shy. Send me your fantasies and realities at [e-mail] I look forward from hearing from all my fans.

Book preview

Training Trixie

By: Trixie T

Published by WSIC EBooks Ltd.

Copyright August 22, 2010 by WSIC Ebooks Ltd.

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

Discoveries

So if there are no other candidates we will continue pursuing Tina and Roxanne. States an exotic-looking dark haired lady.

They have shapely bodies, but they act like whores and look used. I may have a candidate. Pipes up an angelic looking woman.

Susan, this is quite unexpected. Who do you have in mind? A surprised dark hair beauty asks.

I think Trixie would be a fine candidate. Returns the angelic Susan.

Trixie, isn’t that the girl taking care of Johnny? A frown mars the dark haired beauty’s face.

Yes Barbara, I’m talking about that Trixie. Susan states defiantly.

You can’t be serious Susan. Tina and Roxanne may look used and dress like whores, but at least they are willing to spread their legs! Barbara’s statement causes some chuckles from the other women in the room.

Susan stiffens her spine and looks even more defiant. I know very well what the purpose is Barbara and I would appreciate the chance to prove myself. I have seen Trixie in a bathing suit and even though the bathing suit she wears is the ugliest thing I have ever seen there is no ignoring the body; what she has to offer is definitely appealing. I think they will like it.

But the way she dresses and I wager she is still a virgin. Alexandria pipes up.

I know she dresses like a slob and yes she is probably still a virgin, but I can fix that. If that body of hers is even half as hot as I believe it to be it will be worth the effort. In fact, I fully intend to pursue her for my own pleasure. Susan states defiantly.

There is only a couple of weeks left Susan. How do you expect to have her ready in that time? Barbara interjects.

She’s a bud just waiting to bloom. She has that innocent look combined with a great personality, and even more surprising is that she is real and nice. That alone will be refreshing. I am sure I can have her presentable and ready in time. At least I should get a chance to try. Susan gives one of her famous pouts.

You’re right Susan. I know you have only been with us for a couple of years and that you are proposing your first candidate. Try her then, but you only have a week to show that she is improving and receptive. Stay in the house for now, but keep us informed on your progress please. As for the other two, we will keep pursuing them in case Susan’s candidate does not work out. I do not need to remind you that we must have one of the girls. Barbara replies.

Flashing a smile and like a child, Susan bounces over to Barbara and much unlike a child; she gives Barbara a very seductive kiss. When they finally part, they are both breathless and Susan whispers, I miss you all.

We miss you too Susan. We miss your cheeky attitude and your sunny smile. Go ahead and give it your best try with Trixie, but if you find that she will not do or that you don’t have the time, call it a day and come back to us. Barbara replies then gives her a kiss and being a little bolder than the young blonde, she takes hold of a handful of Susan’s ass as she does.

Following is a lot of kisses and well wishes from the other women in the room and it is another half hour before Susan manages her last good-bye.

----------

I am looking through Susan’s CD collection, telling myself that I have no life. In two weeks, I am going to be eighteen and here I am, bored to death, babysitting a four year old.

How I had gotten into this gig is a story in itself. The day had been hot and looking for somewhere cool to hang out, I found myself wandering a mall. It was while I was doing some window-shopping that Susan’s nephew, who had been laughing and running, had quite literally fallen at my feet. He had looked so cute that I could not keep myself from stopping to lift him back to his feet and just as I was doing so, Susan caught up with him.

That was a month ago and our first meeting is still a vivid memory. I do not know what attracted her to me or why we even started talking. I was wearing my usual baggy cut-off shorts, a tank top under a baggy t-shirt and Susan…well she looked prime and proper in her tight fitting dress.

She looked like a model and I looked, well as I always look. I am not much for doing myself up, and that day was no exception. Still, we hit it off almost immediately and in short order we were having coffee and Susan is asking me if I want a babysitting job. As I have not had any luck getting a job this summer and college was just over the horizon I accepted the offer. The money is not great, but it is enough to give me just that little bit more.

Susan is a great lady of I would say about 24 years old and over the last month we have gotten to know each other better. She has a winning smile and an outstanding personality.

The only real friction between us is the way I dress. No, friction is not quite right. It may have started as friction, but I think it has long since turned into some kind of game. She keeps hinting in her friendly manner that I need to make a change. Considering the fact that she always wears a dress, or skirt and blouse and high heels, with makeup and immaculately combed hair and the fact that I wear baggy cut-off shorts, tank tops, and baggy t-shirts, with hair in a ponytail I am not surprised that she keeps hinting. She keeps telling me that she will have to take me shopping to teach me how to dress properly and every time she does I tell her I will have to show her how to loosen up.

Susan is not the first one to comment on how I dress, so has my best friend Trudy, but she has been into dresses and skirts and looking nice for the last couple of years so I excuse her for it. It is all fun with Trudy for even though we grew up together and she dressed much like me before her change she is forever teasing me about my boxer shorts, baggy clothing, and what she calls ugly cotton underwear.

This evening when I came to babysit was no exception. I wore a baggy t-shirt with a tank top beneath instead of a bra. As expected, Susan gave me a look of disapproval when she saw me, but this evening she decided not to add a comment.

Disapproval or not, I’m glad I dressed the way I did for the night has proven to be exceptional hot and since my charge went to sleep some time ago, I have removed my baggy t-shirt and I now lounge in only my tank top and shorts. I am sure Susan will have something to say about it later but what the hey.

Giving my head a shake to rid them of these thoughts, I get up and grab myself another glass of wine. I’m not much of a drinker, but as I do not have my own car, so nothing to drive, Susan allows me to drink whenever I like. She even allows me to sleep in the family room on those nights I drink too much or when I baby-sit too late to want to go home.

Drink poured, I move back into the living room and resume my search for something to watch. By now, I have at least twenty CDs surrounding me on the floor and yet, I reach in to pull the next one out. This one gives me no idea what it is about as there is no markings on the CD case or the CD itself…so of course, in it goes.

I pop the CD into the machine and sit back on the sofa to watch. At first, nothing appears and I am about to get up to turn it off when my breath catches in my throat. The picture on the television is that of Susan, the aunt of the four year old I am babysitting. She is standing in her bedroom, smiling at the camera and obviously getting ready to undress.

Susan is a beautiful blonde of about 5’7". She looks like a model; not one of those skinny models with no tits, but one well endowed, well toned, and well tanned, and here she is slowly undressing.

Oh my God!

Even as I watch, she strips to her panty and bra and I am ashamed to say that I can’t take my eyes off the screen for she looks beautiful with her firm full breasts, her narrow waist, and her shapely round ass.

Even as I watch, I can’t help comparing myself to her. At five feet nine inches, I am taller than she is and Susan’s hair is blonde and wavy, while my hair is almost black and straight. Susan’s breasts, a very healthy and adequate C are smaller than my Ds. She and I do seem to be about the same in weight, that being 115 pounds and the body I am looking at on the CD has taunt stomach muscles and fine shapely legs, making it obvious that she works out on a regular basis.

Some of my friends, Trudy specifically, have told me that I am good looking and for the most part, I have ignored them. I have never been in the habit of flaunting my body and that is something considering that I live in California and spend a good deal of my time in a bathing suit, but only in the privacy of a back yard and God forbid, I would never be caught dead walking around the city in one.

It’s not that I am a prude or anything like that, but I have strict parents who push me hard to succeed in school and work hard I have; not only for my parents, but also for myself. School has been my life and it has paid off as I am starting the college of my choice in the fall. Therefore, my studying has left me very little time to think of boys or sex. As far as I am concerned, I have enough time to figure out boys and sex after I finish college or even when I marry.

I come back to myself with the realization that sometime in the last few minutes I had started stroking my breast. My hand is underneath my tank top and my nipple is starting to get hard. Embarrassed, I jerk my hand away and give my head a shake.

What are you doing Trixie?

I look back at the television just in time to see Susan undoing her bra and slowly sliding it down her arms. She has turned her back to the camera so all I can see is the swell of her breast off to the side of her body.

Oh God, what is she doing?

She slowly turns around with her breasts cupped in her hands and smiles at the camera. My breath catches for it is as if she is smiling for me alone and watching her as she massages her breasts and pinches her nipples doesn’t help my breathing either; my hand slides back under my tank top and commences to mimic her moves.

I look closely at her breasts and compare them to my own. My areolas are dark and about two inches around while hers are light and look to be about half the size. I also notice that my nipples stick out much more than hers and they are definitely hard and sticking out now.

What the fuck are you doing Trixie!

I pull my hand away from my breast, but I continue watching as Susan lies back on the bed and slowly pulls off her panty. It is almost too much; her pussy is facing me and it looks as wet as mine feels. I admire the small tuff of blonde pubic hair for it looks so very cute on her.

I should be turning this off but I can’t help it. I am glued to the scene. It is as if she is doing this just for me.

She starts stroking herself and as she does, she seems to melt into the bed. I am in a daze. There is the aunt of the child I am babysitting smiling into a camera fingering herself and here I am trying to get my hands down my shorts to do the same. I have never done this before, never thought of doing it, but I am so freaking wet right now.

She is so beautiful. She seems to be so enjoying herself. All of it seems to be for me.

I hear a car door slam.

Oh shit she’s home.

I rush to the CD player, pop out the CD and throw it into the cabinet. Running back to the couch I pick up the remote and start flipping through the channels, not really paying any attention to what is on.

I am still breathing hard and somewhat sweaty when Susan enters the room. She tells me that she has been drinking tonight so took a cab home and that it is still waiting outside if I want to go home; or would I prefer to stay for the night.

I do not answer for a few seconds as my mind is still caught up on the CD I had been watching. When I do manage a reply, it is to say that I will stay the night as I have been drinking and that I really don’t want to go home to an empty house. Susan goes back to the door, waves to the cab and I hear it pull away.

What are you doing Trixie, of all nights tonight is the night you should have gone home.

Susan comes back into the room and gives me a piercing look. My breath catches in my throat and I am afraid that she is reading me like an open book. Still giving me that strange look, she comes over, strokes my hair and sweaty forehead.

You look flush. Are you okay?

I reply with the first stupid thing that pops into my head. Yes, you just scared me. I have been watching scary movies all night and was half-asleep when you came in and…. I peter off.

The smell of Susan's perfume as she continues to stroke my hair and apologize for scaring me is intoxicating; dam if I’m not starting to feel heat between my thighs.

Shit, shit, shit, what’s happening to me. This is not you Trixie!

Susan finally moves away from me and I find that I can breathe a little easier, but it is too late for my nipples have become even more unruly than usual and they are now trying to poke holes in my tank top.

Susan notices; she looks down at my breasts. Once again, I can’t breathe, I need to breathe dam it. Susan looks for what seems to be forever before finally stating that she is going to take a shower.

Turning, releases me from her trap and I find that I can breathe again. But her turning has caused another issue for even as she walks away I cannot help but watch the way her ass moves under her tight fitting dress or the long looking and shapely legs.

Susan stops, my breath catches again. Can you unzip me sweetie?

I am slow in getting up from the sofa and I am having trouble breathing again, but I am determined not to make a fool of myself. I finally manage to get up, manage to get to her where I fumble with the zipper. I know she feels how clumsy I am, but she stands patiently waiting for me. I finally get the zipper unzipped and Susan lets her dress slip to the floor.

Once more, I am looking at her in her underwear. Just like in her CD, her bra and panty are cute affairs, these of a light blue color. The bra covers little more than half of her smooth tanned breasts and compresses them; causing them to swell impressively, nothing at all like the full cup cotton bras that I wear, when I wear bras that is.

The vision of her taking off her bra, of her massaging her breasts, of her removing her panty and then…..

Stop this Trixie!

Susan turns around, gives my face a light thank you caress and walks into the bathroom to have her shower. Sadly, as she walks away, the view of her round ass in her bikini panty does nothing to help my sensibilities.

My knees are trembling and I plop myself down on the floor. All I can think of is the roundness of Susan’s breasts, her narrow waist, her gorgeous ass, her finely tanned skin, and that small patch of pubic hair I saw on the CD.

Enough…enough…no more Trixie.

I sit on the floor taking deep breaths until I finally get my breathing under control and this helps to clear my head. I manage to make my way back to the sofa where I down my wine in one gulp.

What the hell are you thinking Trixie? You are a seventeen-year-old with a future if you work hard in college. So what are you doing here acting like a bitch in heat and over another woman of all things?

I get up and make my way to the kitchen to get another drink. Drink poured I retrace my steps back to the sofa. Halfway there, I decide the heck with it and make a u-turn to the family room where I am to sleep.

To get from where I am to the family room requires that I walk past the bathroom. I hear the sound of the shower running as I pass the bathroom, but it sounds wrong. That wrongness hits me. The shower sounds too loud so I glance over; I freeze in my tracks.

Susan’s bathroom design is such that when you enter the bathroom you come to a countertop with the sink on the right hand side and then a glass enclosed stand up shower. The tub is on the left hand side and is a large fancy affair. The shower, also quite large includes a seat, which I usually use to hold my shampoos whenever I shower here. Of course, besides the shower, tub and sink counter there is a toilet, but right now the shower, or more to the point, what is inside the shower has my full attention.

She sitting on the shower’s seat and water is pouring over her. She looks stunning as she soaps up her long legs, which she has stretched out in front of her. Her breasts are hanging down and move intoxicatingly as she bends over those legs to soap up her thighs to her lower calves and finally her feet. Up she goes to her stomach and breasts then back again. Even with water pouring over her, it takes only a couple of minutes of washing with that soap-laden puffball to have her covered in a thick lather.

Oh fuck!

She straightens, lets the water wash the soap from her and even as I watch I see her hand go between her legs. She leans back against the back of the shower wall, stretches out; opens her legs and with her right hand starts playing with her pussy much as she did on that dam CD.

The shower glass allows me a mostly clear view of what she is doing. A clear view of her wet and slick body, a clear view of her hand moving between her legs, of her other hand coming up to caress and play with her stunning breasts.

Trixie, if she catches you watching!

I am in a panic. I need to run out of there before I am caught. The panic is for nothing, for she has her eyes closed. She is enjoying herself. She has such a look of bliss on her face. The fingers of her other hand flutter over her body.

She turns, giving me a view between her legs. I watch as she slowly sticks one then two of her fingers into her pussy. For a couple of minutes she fingers her pussy, and then removes her fingers from her hole to tickle her clit again. A couple of minutes of tickling her clit and her fingers disappear into her pussy again. Her other hand is still playing with her breasts, she squeezes them, she takes hold of her nipples, she pulls on them and twists.

I am caught up with how beautiful she looks, with how much I want to be the one rubbing her pussy, the one to be squeezing her breasts. It is about then that I notice that I am breathing harder and there is no denying the wetness between my thighs.

The spilling of wine over my hand and onto the floor jars me back into reality. I take deep breaths to clear my head and when that does not help I give it a few shakes. I finally manage to get my body moving, but instead of continuing to where I intended I make my way back to the sofa and sit down heavily.

I am breathing hard, my nipples are painful buds and my crotch is so freaking wet; when I hear the moan coming from the bathroom, it gets twice as wet. I close my eyes and try in vain to stop thinking.

I open my eyes to the sound of Susan coming out of the bathroom. She is wearing a sexy blue, tight fitting nightie, which ends just below her well-shaped ass and does little to hide her body; in fact, it seems to enhance every part of her body instead of covering it. It draws the eyes to the curves, to the spots that should never see the light of the freaking day.

She raises her arms to dry her hair with the towel she is carrying and this causes the nightie to rise above her already barely covered pussy giving me a picture perfect view of her cute pubic hair and swollen pussy lips.

Dam it! I am having trouble breathing again.

Susan smiles at me when she notices me sitting on the sofa. If you want a shower before bed go ahead. I didn’t use all the water and I left some towels for you in the bathroom.

I don’t waste any time arguing and jump to my feet. Just as I am passing her, she reaches out to cup my face with those fingers that were so recently providing her so much pleasure. She gives me a peck on the cheek and a dazzling smile, Just because.

I can smell her scent, a clean pure smell; a smell of flowers, Jasmine I think. My heart is beating fast, I feel heat moving up my neck, oh please don’t faint!

I manage to smile back and then I walk into the bathroom as quickly as I can without looking like an idiot. Safely inside I shut the door, sit down heavily on the toilet and lower my head between my legs to keep from fainting. I try to breathe deeply, slowly.

You’re a slut Trixie! Stop it, stop it right now! Slut, slut, slut. You have to stop! You must stop!

I continue repeating my mantra as I fight to get my breathing under control. I don’t know how I manage it, but I finally get myself under control and able to breathe properly again. Finally, I am able to undress then climb into the shower.

I turn on the shower and put my head under the showerhead to let the water sooth my worries away. As the water rushes over me, I close my eyes and continue taking deep breaths..

Better. Much better.

Picking up the soap and the puffball, I get the puffball well soaped and then start washing myself only to discover that my breasts are tender and that my nipples are overly sensitive; a touch to those sets off every nerve in my body. When I reach down to wash around my pussy I get very frustrated, for I find that area also overly sensitive to the touch. Overly sensitive and too freaking eager to be touched that is. Unable to cope with my feelings I get angry with myself and finish showering quickly.

Shower finished, I step out to dry off. I take hold of the smaller of the two towels Susan left for me and wrap it around my thick black hair; hair that hangs down to the middle of my back when dry. Then I grab the larger of the two, and dry myself off. Still angry at myself I am as rough as I can be in drying myself off, but even the roughness has an unusual effect on me.

I clamp down on my emotions and finish drying. Once dried, I look to my clothing, but I am unable to bring myself to putting them back. Now I have a problem for I had not planned on staying the night so I have nothing else to change into.

The hell with it!

I pick up my clothes and walk out of the bathroom with only the towel wrapped around me.

Susan is just finishing off blow-drying of her hair and I immediately think of doing the same. Dropping my clothes in the family room, I retrace my steps to the sofa I recently abandoned.

I find that Susan has finished with the blow dryer and has left the room so I sit down on the sofa, release my hair from the towel, and start squeezing the excess water out with the towel. Intent on what I am doing it takes a while for the presence beside me to register.

I look up and see Susan sitting there watching me and much to my embarrassment I do not notice that the towel I wrapped around my body has come undone; that is not until my wet hair brushes up against my bare breast. I quickly grab the towel and rewrap it around my body.

Susan gives me one of her radiant smiles and pats the sofa beside her. Come here and I will dry your hair for you.

This will not be the first time Susan has blow-dried my hair. When I first started babysitting for her we were where much more reserved around each other, but I have been babysitting for her for a month and have showered and slept over at least a dozen times. A friendship has grown between us. So there have been a few evenings of blow-drying and of hair brushing so without thought I scoot over to her.

She turns on the blow-drier and starts in on my hair. As she dries my hair, I close my eyes in pleasure for when your hair is as long and thick as mine is it is always nice to have someone else do the work. The blow-drying and brushing of my hair relaxes me and even as I relax, I think back to how we met and how we have become comfortable around each other. How at first we were drawn to each other for some unknown reason and yet we kept each other at a distance. How that has change over the last month. Now she touches me whenever she can, she complains about my clothing, she compliments and corrects, she gives those small kisses as she did tonight.

The brush hooking the top of my towel breaks my line of thought. The problem with being wrapped in the towel is that whenever Susan brushes down, the brush catches the top edge of the towel, which in turn threatens to pull it off. After a few minutes of this frustration, Susan breaks even further into my contemplations.

Trixie honey this towel is being a real pain. This would be much easier if you either had a shirt on or nothing at all.

I look back at her blankly, my recent thoughts flooding my head with images and feelings…finally I decide to undo the towel from my back and hold the front up against my chest.

Susan continues to dry and brush my hair. As she does, I admit to myself that once again she is right; it is a lot more comfortable and much more enjoyable without the brush catching the stupid towel.

My body finally begins to relax and as it does it moves back against her until finally, without even realizing that I have done so, I am laying firmly against her chest. I rest against her content for a long time, or so I figure.

When I finally manage to stir myself from my contentment and open my eyes, I realize that she had finished drying my hair and that she is currently playing with it and probably has been ever since I had lain back against her. The next thing I make note of is that the towel I had been holding in front of me has slipped down and that my breasts are bare to the world. Embarrassed I grab the towel and hide myself again.

Susan chuckles, Don’t be a prude Trixie, it’s not like you have anything I don’t have.

She wraps her arm around me and pulls me back into her as she sits back with a sigh.

It’s nice to just sit and relax. She murmurs.

I agree with her as I have not been this relaxed all day, though I have no doubt that my wine intake this evening is helping. It has to be the wine I reason for sure as heck everything else that has happened this evening has not helped.

So are you over your scary movie night?

Yes. I murmur back to her.

That’s good. You do look much better than when I came home.

She continues to play with my hair. It is distracting, but not enough that it keeps me from telling her how good Johnny, her nephew was or in catching her up on some of the funny things he did this evening.

Her chuckling makes her fine silk nightie move erotically against the bare skin of my back. Her full breasts feel like the softest of pillows. How comfortable they are.

This has been nice Trixie, but I have to get to bed. I’m sure Johnny will be up early tomorrow morning. Susan states after what has to be at least a half hour of my rambling.

I hear you. Well…I guess…ya…I’ll go to bed too.

I am certain it is the way I sound and the stumbling over my words that makes Susan think I am still having my horror movie effects for she wraps me in her arms and asks me if I want to sleep in her bed with her. I tilt my head back and look at her for a few seconds.

If it will not be too much trouble.

No trouble at all. Shall we?

I stand up; not realizing that I have not rewrapped the towel around my body and Susan gets a bird’s eye view of my ass. Trying to act much more grown up that I really am and much more casual than my fluttering stomach really is I wrap the towel around myself again. Once I have myself wrapped again, Susan takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom.

I feel like I am being lead to my doom, but I am too scared to say anything. I am trying to act so grown up, so mature.

Breathe Trixie….oh fuck breathe.

Her bed is a queen size bed and as it is the middle of summer, there is only a thin sheet covering it. Susan points to my side of the bed, walks over to the other side and starts climbing into bed.

I look at the bed and then at Susan crawling in.

She notices my hesitation. What is it Trixie? Don’t tell me you never slept with a girlfriend before.

I shake my head and I really need to learn to keep my freaking mouth shut. Now who is being the prude? I have to crawl under there naked and you are crawling in dressed.

She looks down at the tight fitting nightie she is wearing and laughs. I have to laugh too because the nightie does nothing to hide most of her fine assets and it is so short that it barely covers her ass. Yet, and still chuckling she grabs the bottom of the nightie, pulls it over her head, tosses it on the dresser and climbs into bed. Having opened my mouth and lost my dare, I drop my towel and crawl in on the other side.

I feel much more comfortable covered under the thin sheet and Susan gives me the space I need. We talk a little more about our day and Johnny, but before long she finally and firmly states, that she is ready for sleep. Turing to me, she gets up on one elbow and gives me a quick peck on the lips; her breast rubbing against my own as she bends to give me that freakish kiss causes my breath to catch.

She does not notice that I am not breathing when she turns around onto her side and says goodnight. Somehow, I manage to mumble my own goodnight.

I lay on my back staring at the ceiling and try to get my thoughts back in order for a long time. Susan has long since gone to sleep and my mind keeps going over the evening’s events. Being fully engrossed in my studies I have never really thought about sex and surely never thought of having sex with another woman; not even the desire for experimentation.

I think back at all the times my best friend Trudy and I slept at each other’s homes. We always slept in the same bed. I am certain there was never any desire there and next to Susan, Trudy is probably the most beautiful girl I know. Sure, Trudy and I played at kissing when we were young, after all how else were we to learn how to kiss a boy, but that was all in fun.

I reach up and touch the breast that had rubbed against Susan’s. I find the nipple still sensitive and overly stiff. Moving down, I feel my pussy and sure enough it is wet. Embarrassed I snatch my hand away…

Dam this house is hot, why is the air conditioner not on! Broken, right it’s broken and Susan is waiting for the repairman to show up.

I lay there sweating and unable to go to sleep. I tell myself repeatedly that my sweat is from the evening heat….ya right! Frustrated by the whole situation and the new feelings I am having I finally roll over on my side just as Susan had done. So caught up in my frustration am I that I do not realize that I drape my arm over her body. My elbow rest on her shapely waist and quite by accident my hand lands on her breast.

When my brain finally registers where my hand is I almost stop breathing for here I am lying naked in bed with another woman and I have her breast cupped in one of my hands. For at least ten minutes, I lay there, not daring to move and hardly breathing.

She does not move or show any inclination of waking so I start to stroke her breast lightly…softly. I feel her nipple get hard, it grows…it grows harder and longer and harder yet as I continue to finger it gently. After a while, stroking her breast is not enough for me.

If cupping and stroking her breast does not wake her up maybe a little squeezing will not either.

Susan must also have found the evening hot and had long since freed herself from the bed coverings. Even so, her body is still slightly sweaty from the heat. I can see it glistening…too freaking enticing.

Her breast when I finally work up the courage to squeeze it is firm, hot, and moist with just a touch of her perspiration. I squeeze again. It is so intoxicating that it threatens to make me faint. It feels so soft and yet so firm, what a contradiction. It is larger than what I can fit in my small hand, but what I do have…so full, so firm, and so squeezable.

My breathing is short and rapid. I know I am getting reckless, but I am beyond the point of caring. I am so intent on squeezing Susan’s breast and playing with her nipple that I don’t even think anything is unusual when she rolls over to lay on her back.

Now I have access to all of her.

Ever so slowly, I gently stroke the swell of one breast and then the other. I marvel at their unblemished skin, at their firmness….so much firmer than my own. Her breasts mesmerize me for her areolas are half the size of mine and much lighter in color. The nipples seem to be half as unruly as my own; her breasts are perfect I conclude as I softly thumb her nipples.

Inching my head closer I blow some air across her nipples. My breath cools the slight perspiration causing her nipples to stiffen even more than what they were under the ministration of my fingers. The sight of them getting hard makes my adrenaline flow.

What are you doing Trixie; you are going to be caught! Go to sleep, go to sleep now before you really fuck things up!"

Slowly, I move my hand down her body until I reach her flat stomach. I let my fingers play over its firmness; causing the skin to goose bump. Looking at Susan in her nakedness it once again hits me that she must work out regularly for her whole body is firm and taunt; not muscles, but there is no mistaking the well-defined, firm curves.

My finger brushes lightly against her belly button stud. I once asked her if the big diamond in the stud was real and she replied yes and that it was a gift, though she never expanded from whom. As I play with it, I wonder again who would give a person such a gift.

My fingers slowly trace a route from her belly button up to her fine neck and back down the middle of her breasts.

Trixie, this is madness. You have worked too hard to get what you want, do not ruin it now!

It seems I have no intention of listening to the reasonable part of my brain. My hand makes its way towards her pussy. The moonlight and the hallway light we left on for Johnny gives me more than enough light to see her body; too much light I now think. I lay my head gently on Susan’s chest.

Good idea…if she wakes, she will think I just snuggled up to her.

My hand plays with her belly button stud, and I am looking down towards my goal. I am trembling, my heart is pounding. I am having trouble breathing again when I finally make it to her soft blonde pubic hair.

Susan breathing seems to be coming faster, just as mine, but as she is not waking up I think nothing of it. In an almost dreamlike state I let my fingers play with her downy softness.

Her pussy hair is just a tiny patch of light blonde hair, so silky and soft to the touch. I compare her sparse bush to the bushy dark patch I sport and I wonder at the difference. Her patch of pubic hair seems to enhance, invite, and encourage a person to explore further, while mine, if I must be honest does little more than hide something I do not want seen.

Don’t even think about it Trixie. Enough is enough! You have had your fun, now it is time for you to go to your own bed or go to sleep… Trixie!

Once again, it seems that I am determined to ignore the reasonable part of my brain. I move my hand down to her pussy. I don’t have the slightest idea what I am going to do when I reach my goal, but I am determined to make it there. Reaching the top of her pussy, I come to my first barrier. Susan’s legs are only slightly parted and getting my hand fully between her thighs is not going to be an easy task. As I ponder my dilemma, my nail gently tickles the bud of her clit. She releases a soft moan, shifts and spreads her legs apart.

I hold my breath, not daring to move, not daring to look up to see if she is awake. I will her to go back to sleep, every muscle is taunt waiting for the outcry that never comes.

I slowly relax and start to breathe again when she does not say anything or make any further moves. My heart is pounding hard; the sound fills my ears like the roaring of the sea.

I dare myself to go further, to explore much more. My breathing, which had started to settle changes to short hard gasps…slowly, agonizingly slow I inch my hand between her thighs until I manage to gently cup her whole pussy against my palm.

I am surprised the pounding of my heart against her chest does not wake her. I can hear it clear as day as it thumps hard and nosily against my ribs. My chest is so tight that it is making it hard to breathe; yet she sleeps on.