Girlfriend’s Girlfriend: Fetish Satisfied

By Rebecca Stone

"The legs were just an appetizer for you," Erica was saying while enjoyed. "I see what really rocks your boat. I bet you would tear that little pecker out of its socket for the chance to kiss my feet, wouldn't you."

"YES I WOULD!" I screamed so loudly that people on the street turned and looked in the direction of Erica's car.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Stone
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005330941

Rebecca Stone

I love writing and reading erotica. I enjoy publishing my content online and get people's perspective on my writings. I hope my readers enjoy the content I put through. Happy reading!

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Girlfriend’s Girlfriend: Fetish Satisfied

By Rebecca Stone

Published by

Ecstasy Publications at Smashwords

[e-mail]

Copyright 2021 Ecstasy Publications

Distributed by Smashwords

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entire coincidental

Authors Note:

All characters depicted in this work of fiction are at least 18 years old or above. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

Jean and I had been together for two years when I met her friend Erica. I'd never been much of a ladies' man, shy and awkward were my calling cards, and the first time I saw Erica it was after she'd played tennis and Jean and I were meeting her for ice cream.

She'd lived out of state for about three years and Jean and her had kept in touch by phone and email, but Erica was now moving back to town and Jean was very excited to see her again. I tagged along even though I usually found Jean's friends to be obnoxious and mean. One of her friends liked to call me The Wimp and once told Jean, Why don't you get a man with some balls? You could do better.

Her friends didn't do much for my self-confidence, and Jean never stood up for me except to say, I like Keith just the way he is. Jean was very domineering and controlling. She liked me the way I was because she could boss me around and get me to do anything she wanted. She was very overweight and tended not to care about her appearance, so holding on to me was probably something she did because she had trouble finding a man otherwise.

So, this is Keith, Erica said after meeting me in the parking lot of the ice cream place, which was basically a big stand surrounded by picnic tables, a regular summertime favorite of the locals.

Erica was wearing a tight white t-shirt, pink tennis shorts, white socks and sneakers. She was an incredibly gorgeous woman, unlike most of Jean's friends. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, a perfect figure, and long, beautiful, golden tanned legs.

I've always had a fetish for women's legs, for as long as I can remember, and it had become more intense since I'd been with Jean. Her legs were stubby, fat, shapeless, and she almost never shaved them so there were always patches of dark hair on her knees and ankles.

Jean introduced us and rolled her eyes at me when she saw how I was looking lustfully at Erica. When Erica was out of earshot, at the counter ordering her ice cream, Jean told me, Be real, Keith, she is completely out of your league.

I couldn't look away. As hard as I tried to look away, my eyes kept going back to Erica's strong thighs, her shapely calves, and her tight pink tennis shorts. She just smiled, acting outwardly like she didn't notice my stares, but when Jean wasn't looking she'd wink or give me a knowing smile.

After we ate our ice cream, Jean went to the ladies' room. She tended to have to urinate every twenty minutes because she drank upwards of ten bottles of wine every day, coupled with two pots of coffee and a fifth of bourbon. This consumption also caused her to pass out fairly early in the evening, usually around seven o'clock, but she still had trouble getting up in the morning for work and I'd have to shake her and sing her that Red, Red Wine song to get her up.

Jean had passed out early again when the phone rang at nine o'clock that night. When I answered it I was surprised to hear Erica's voice on the other end.

Is she passed out yet? she asked after I said hello.

Um... do you want me to wake her?

No, I wanted to talk to you, Keith. You're a sick little monkey, you know.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you it's just that you're really beautiful...

And you are stuck with that alcoholic cow and she treats you like shit and you wish you could be with me, right?

Well, yeah, I wish, but you'd never be interested in me. Besides, Jean is your friend, right?

Yeah, we've known each other for years, but she's nothing like she used to be. She's just mean and angry now. So, tell me, did you fantasize about me after you got home today?

Of course not...

Oh, come on now, be honest with me. I bet you got home and rushed into the bathroom and started beating off while thinking about me the moment you got home.

I sat in silence on my end of the phone call, speechless. She was right.

It's okay, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. I want you to fantasize about me and I want you to jerk off thinking about me, but I want you to do it three times a day, every day, until I tell you to stop.

I remained speechless, but now my jaw fell open.

I know that means you won't have any energy left for Jean, but I don't want you to have any energy for her. I want you to think only about me.

Okay, I said quietly while trembling with a combination of shock and excitement.

In a few weeks I'm going to see Jean again, just the two of us this time, and I'm going to ask her about how her sex life is going. I want her to give me a very sad report about how you just don't seem interested anymore and you can't even get it up for her.

But...

Sweetie, if you follow my instructions you'll make me very happy, and when I'm sure you have, then I'm going to give you a big surprise. What's your favorite part of my body?

Your legs...

That's what I thought. You were staring at them for so long it got me all wet. Did you know that?

No...

Would you like me to come over in my pink shorts so you can beat off ON my legs?

I suddenly got an erection that threatened to burst the seams of my jeans. I was speechless again.

I guess not. She laughed, not at me but because she knew I wanted her to come over but was too scared to ask or even say 'yes.'

I'm sorry, I said quietly, I know you are just messing with me and I'm sorry if I was creepy staring at you at the ice cream place... I should go...

Are you going to beat off thinking about me before going to bed?

I paused, said yes, and hung up the phone.

It might not have been three times a day every day, but Erica stayed on my mind, and I kept fantasizing about her and her gorgeous legs. There was one Sunday where I got myself off five times fantasizing about her. Whenever Jean wanted to have sex, which wasn't more than a couple times a week, I would be unable to get an erection. The combination of my frequent masturbation and the fact that I didn't find her physically appealing were major factors, but I also had a weird desire not to disappoint Erica.

I'm meeting Erica for lunch today, Jean told me one day. I'd bring you, but I'm pretty sure you creeped her out the last time.

Okay, I said and turned back to my computer where I was doing fourth grade level math puzzles for no reason other than genuine dissatisfaction with the alternatives.

When Jean returned, I had gotten myself off twice while looking at pictures of women's legs on the Web that looked similar to Erica's legs. When Jean wasn't home I had gotten used to saying Erica's name out loud while masturbating and it made my orgasms more intense.

So, Jean said after ordering me to make her a pitcher of manhattans, Erica says her boyfriend never has any trouble getting it up when she wants to have sex with him.

Um, why are you telling me that? Way too much information, don't you think?

The reason I'm telling you that is that she asked me how our sex life was and I told her it was pretty much nonexistent and that you can't even get it up anymore. She said that was pathetic and maybe I should find another boyfriend.

Jean could get very mad and be very cruel, but she hadn't been lately. When she wanted to have sex and I made excuses or had trouble getting an erection, she always said she understood and that we could try again later. The thing was, later never came.

Maybe you should see a doctor or get some Viagra or something, she said. I'm getting sick of being the only one of my friends who doesn't get laid ever.

I'll make an appointment to see someone, I told her, my voice getting high and shaky. I'm sorry. I didn't know it bothered you so much.

Erica is coming over tomorrow night to hang out with me, Jean told me. See if you can clean this dump up a little and try not to be such a pathetic wimp for once. I don't want her to think I'm dating a complete loser. I mean, she knows you can't get it up, so she already thinks you're kind of a loser, so just try to have some balls.

The next night, just before Erica arrived, Jean had me set up the liquor bottles and mixers so it looked like our kitchen was a bar. After I cleaned up, most of which was Jean's mess, took a shower and got dressed, the doorbell rang. Erica had arrived.

I didn't know you guys were getting dressed up, she said with her understanding laugh. I figured we were just hanging out and I came straight from tennis.

That's okay, Jean told her. I just put on what I had clean, this isn't dressy, just what was on my dresser.

I had been waiting in the kitchen and when they came in, Erica was wearing very short white shorts, a pink t-shirt, ankle socks and sneakers. She waved to me and winked, then asked if I would mix her a rum and coke.

Heavy on the rum, with lots of ice, she said.

I gotta pee, Jean said, then looked at me and said, Behave yourself around my friend.

After Jean closed the bathroom door, Erica told me to sit down next to her on the couch.

See, I told you I'd have a surprise for you if you were a good boy and did what I said. How many times have you cum thinking about me today?

Once, this morning, I said, looking down at the floor. I knew you were coming over and...

Look at me, sweetie, she said and put her fingers under my chin to lift my face up so I was looking into her beautiful blue eyes.

I haven't been able to think about anything but you, I told her and swallowed hard. I think I'm going crazy fantasizing about you so much, not just when I masturbate but I daydream and...

I know you do, Keith. It's okay.

Jean thinks I'm not able to, you know.

I know, she told me. I wanted to tell her that's because you only get it up for me, but that's our little secret. Now, tell me, do you want me to come over here and visit in shorts like this?

Oh gosh, yes, please, I stuttered. You are so beautiful and your legs are amazing.

Jean trusts me, Erica said, stretching her left leg out in front of her and flexing her ankle back and forth. I'm going to keep asking her privately about her sex life with you. If I hear that she got laid, or even if I hear that you got an erection with her, you'll never see these legs again.

I nodded silently.

I have a post office box. I use it for different things, but I want to give you the number. It is at the post office in town. I want you to write me a love letter every day. I want you to write about how much you love me, how you can't live without me, all that kind of stuff, and I want you to impress me. Of course, I want you to keep beating off while fantasizing about me as well, but don't talk about that in the letters.

I don't know...

Don't know what? You do love me, don't you Keith?

I stuttered haplessly as I tried to respond, then I looked into her eyes and felt my body fluttering and buzzing. Oh yes, I do love you, Erica, I love you more than anything.

Close your eyes, she said with a wicked smile.

As I closed my eyes, she took my right hand and put it on top of her bare thigh. I shuddered and she pulled my hand away and looked over at my crotch.

Well, you're hard now. Better not let Jean find out, she grinned.

Jean was just coming back from the bathroom and Erica picked her drink up and was sipping it as Jean walked back into the room.

My boyfriend bothering you? Jean asked after seeing me sitting next to Erica on the couch.

Not at all, Erica said, smiling. He was just telling me about how much he enjoys watching tennis, especially women's tennis.

Yeah, I bet, Jean said, shaking her head as she turned her attention to the ancient record player she used to incessantly play pop music from the early 1970s. He likes looking at women in short skirts is all.

Go to the bathroom and beat off for me, right now, Erica whispered in my ear. You're not going to be able to hide that bulge from her and its mine, not hers.

Jean went into the kitchen to fill her giant 36 ounce goblet with box wine. As she did so, I got up and kept my back to her as I walked to the bathroom. I turned for a moment to look at Erica, sitting on the couch with her legs apart. She smiled and reached down to pull her shorts to the side enough to reveal her smooth, hairless vagina. Then she let her shorts return to their normal position and closed and crossed her amazing legs.

She winked and smiled at me and I walked sideways into the wall before pulling myself together and rushing off to the bathroom like a horny adolescent.

I locked the door and took off my pants. My four inch cock was hard as a rock and throbbing. Shaking and sweating, knocking things over as I tried to find the baby lotion I used to masturbate, I tried to keep it together and make it look to Jean like I was just making a normal visit to the bathroom.

With my pants off, I sat down on the toilet and applied the lotion to my achingly hard erection. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about and fantasizing about Erica since our first meeting. Thoughts of her dominated my every thought and I had for weeks dreamed about her coming to the house, or seeing her out somewhere, that I could see her and her incredibly beautiful body.

And those legs, those impossibly perfect legs, long and tanned, athletic to the point of being toned but not head-crushingly muscular, all leading up to that smooth, hairless vagina with lips that glistened like a flower dipped in morning dew.

I was stroking hard and fast, biting my lip to keep from making any audible sound. I closed my eyes and pictured Erica on the couch, calling to me, letting me touch her thigh again, showing me her pussy again, demanding that I write her love letters and masturbate while thinking about her.

My teeth lost their grip on my lip as I got close to orgasm and I moaned out Erica over and over, quietly at first but getting louder every time.

ERICA! I yelled out as I lost my grip on my greased up cock, my still clenched fist hit the wall by the side of the toilet, and I started shooting semen wildly in all directions.

There was a banging on the bathroom door and I tried to pull myself together. Jean's voice was calling out as she banged on the door.

What the fuck are you doing in there? she was saying. Are you okay?

It took me a minute or two to catch my breath and I called back, I'll be out in a minute.

Are you having issues? she replied with a laugh. It sounds like you're calling for Erica.

No, no, I said back. I was yelling out 'Jericho' as this is something I tend to yell out when I am having an obstinate bowel movement.

What the fuck? Why are you talking like that?

I don't know, I said. I'm having a rough time with, well, you know. I'll be out in a minute.

When I got back out to the living room, after getting dressed, pulling myself together, and splashing cold water on my face, Jean was sucking down wine and smoking a cigar while Erica sat on the couch, her beautiful legs crossed, with a very wide grin on her face.

Why were you yelling out my name in the bathroom? she asked me before I had a chance to sit down.

What? No, I wasn't doing that.

"Were you jacking off in