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We found our way to her apartment, which was as familiar to me as home now. Sarah told David to make himself comfortable and we went to change. Her work clothes gave way to a pair of blue sweats and a U of M t-shirt. I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipples were still hard from her run through the rain.
She offered me her robe while my clothes dried. I was struck with an eerie sense of déjà vu as I slipped on her old terrycloth robe, pale pink and fraying at the edges, the most un-sexy thing I could imagine. I sighed as I tossed my blouse and skirt--which I'd been so sure would entice home some young hottie tonight--into the dryer.
Sarah slipped her hands under my robe before I tied it, one hand kneading the sensitive flesh of my belly just above my pubic hair, the other slipping behind me to my lower back. I knew everything I was feeling showed in my eyes because I could see it reflected in her own, and she kissed my eyelids closed and then kissed my mouth, a gentle, tender and reassuring kiss.
I breathed a shaky sigh and she spent a moment feathering kisses on the sweet spot on my neck, just below and behind my ear, which she knew made me instantly wet. Her hand on my belly kneaded lower, slipping under the elastic of my panties and through my pubic hair.
I heard and felt her breath quicken with my own when she found and parted my pussy lips, slipping two fingers through my slit, one on each side of my already swollen clit. I moaned when she wiggled her fingers and she stopped the sound with her mouth against mine. I wondered at her boldness, and glanced toward the door, which was open, but out of the line of sight of the living roomwhere we'd left David.
Her two fingers moved easily--so wet already!--and found the thin and sensitive sheath of skin covering my clit. The sensation was exquisite, her touch practiced and deft. She applied just a small amount of pressure to the tiny bud of flesh, not so much directly on my clit, just allowing that sweet layer of skin to do the work, rubbing it in slow and easy circles with the flat of her fingers.
Her hand on my lower back allowed her to guide me, support me, and I let my head fall back, pushing my hips forward to meet her hand. She pushed me back against the wall, making faster circles now, easing me gently upward. She pressed her mouth to my ear so I could feel her breath and I whimpered. My nipples rubbed against the terrycloth as I rocked my hips, and I sighed when she slipped both fingers down and pressed them into me as deeply as she could.
"He's got a big, hard cock for you, Lizzie," she whispered, stretching me open even further with both fingers, and then slowly sliding in a third. My eyes flew open at the sensation and the thought. "Do you want it?" She moved her fingers in and out of me, deeply. I rocked rhythmically with her, trying not to make too much noise.
"Do you want that cock, Lizzie? Tell me," she demanded, fucking me harder. My eyes were slits, my mouth open, my head back. I imagined his cock sliding into me like that and flushed at the intensity of my own greed.
"Yes, yes, Sarah, please," I begged in a whisper. She pulled her fingers quickly from me and rubbed them against my mouth. The smell and taste of me made me suck and lick her fingers eagerly. She watched, delighted, her mouth making a perfect little "o" that I ached to kiss.
"Good girl," she encouraged. She pulled my robe closed and tied it, a little roughly. "I rented 'Henry and June.'" Her eyes were dancing, and I groaned. Sarah and I had watched it just three weeks ago, an incredibly erotic story of the love affair between Anais Nin and Henry Miller, and we'd had to stop the movie twice to play! I smiled to myself. Poor David didn't have a clue what he was in for tonight...