Date: Sun, 22 Aug 1999 18:05:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Anthony <actium31@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chain Letter

Chain Letter

by Mark Anthony

Disclaimer:
-This story is copyrighted 1999 by Mark Anthony.
-This is a work of erotic fiction, involving explicit sexual acts between
consenting female adults. If it ain't your cup of tea, read something
else. If you are under 18 years of age, ditto.
-Send any and all comments to actium31@yahoo.com


############################################################
Love getting you down? Can't find the right person to share your life with?
Close your eyes and wish for your true love!
Send this e-mail to three of your girlfriends... and your wish shall come true!
############################################################

Andrea frowned at her terminal as her eyes scanned the message. Most of the
cubicles around hers were already vacated, the employees of the Imagine
Publicity Agency having left at five o'clock sharp, to nice houses in quiet
suburban neighborhoods. She, like most evenings this week, had opted to
stay, mindful of her precarious status as new employee, hoping to score
points with the boss by putting in extra hours. Five had become six without
much work being done since she had spent the time clearing away the huge
amount junk mail that was piling up in her inbox.

She brushed a lock of blond hair out of her face absentmindedly, looking
for a sender's address. She knew better than to reply to the message when
she saw it was some kind of anonymous mailing list. The contents of the
message, unfortunately, reminded her all to well of her ongoing boyfriend
problems of the moment, which centered around a dufus by the name of George
Torelli. Instead, she tried to focus on the annoyance of having to filter
through the mess of unwanted messages and other junk mail, but ten seconds
wouldn't go by before George's face cropped up again and again in her mind.

"What the hell," she muttered, clicking on the forward icon and sending a
copy of the "love mail" to three of her girlfriends--she sure as hell
didn't loose much by resorting to that desperate kind of help. The message
was forwarded instantly, and she erased it, shut off her computer,
stretched her arms, grabbed her coat and purse, and went home.

By the time she got home, she had forgotten the whole thing.



"So what's the deal with the agency?" George asked, with typical
nonchalance. "Are you gonna keep the job or not?"

Andrea was slowly discovering that her boyfriend had a gift for making his
inquiries sound mechanical and coldly ritualistic, as if it were a
particular burden on their relationship. She sat tensely on her chair, in a
conservative but nicely cut evening dress, which tightened around her
delicate, bare shoulders, and emphasized her soft silhouette. She had
bought it recently, more to please herself than for George.

"I still don't know George. Can't we talk about something else for now,
please?"

George was good looking to say the least, a bit of an unexpected catch for
Andrea, following a double date with a cousin and two of her acquaintances
two months ago. He was tall, striking, with sharp features and the body of
a consummate athlete. She, with her shoulder-length natural blond hair,
gentle brown eyes and sexy figure, was certainly a catch for *him*.

The first two weeks had been great, the couple quite taken with each
other... but the routine of a normal relationship had soon begun causing a
great deal of friction. George was very much self-absorbed. Looking back on
the last few weeks, Andrea really wasn't sure they were going anywhere.

"You're always talking about the job when we get together Andrea", his
biting sarcasm catching the attention of the young waiter who was passing
by their candlelit table, "Now that I *indulge* you for a bit you don't
wanna talk about it?" His emphasis on the word indulge carried all the
snobbery he would have used in reprimanding a child.

Andrea made a dismissive gesture, trying hard not to let the mounting
frustration in her ruin a perfectly good meal in the romantic surroundings
of the Italian restaurant. She desperately wanted to enjoy a smooth evening
for once.

So George dropped it. But his voice kept that nagging acerbic edge all
evening, as he made a point to recount the trivial details of his own
little life, most of it growing more and more uninteresting in her
eyes. The gap in common interests had appeared quite early, but had been
ignored by the both of them in the excitement of a budding relationship. It
was now coming back with a vengeance. By the end of desert, both were
silently looking into their own empty plates. Andrea was trying to come up
with reasons for staying with him. By the time the check arrived, George
announced he was coming over her place to grab his stuff.

"Fine" was all she said.



A single tear was slowly coming down her cheek by the time she got to Fey's
place. Her friend opened the door and quickly got her into the lofty
apartment, sitting next to her and being supportive as she struggled with
her emotions.

The tears were of frustration mostly--that and the feeling of trying to
give yourself wholly to another while receiving nothing in return. George
was a son-of-a-bitch, and she wasn't unhappy to be rid of him--she was just
angry at herself for having wasted time on him.

Fey nodded sympathetically, with an understanding forged since they were
both little girls. They sat on the large couch, in the middle of spacious
surroundings, soft lights illuminating part of the mostly dark
apartment. The purposefully somber and reserved atmosphere was the sort of
thing that was part of the cathartic ritual, something that went back a
long way in their friendship.

"Don't worry about it" Fey assured Andrea with a impish smile, "at least
now the wish-mail can do its work".  Andrea looked at Fey, momentarily
puzzled. "Oh--that e-mail. Yeah, I guess" she said, unconvinced. "I never
put much stock in those things. And it's not as if the breakup wasn't going
to happen."

She could feel that anger rising in her once again, but Fey calmed her
down. She hugged Andrea tightly, stroking her mane of rich hair. "Believe
me Andrea," she offered, gazing in her lovely eyes, "you can't avoid this
kind of thing. Meeting this jerk may have been a low point, but at least
you got rid of him in record time. Now if it had been me..."

"You never went out with a jerk like that!" Andrea protested.

"Harrison Nichols" Fey reminded her.

Andrea's mouth closed tightly, unable to think of a comeback.

Fey's expression was soft, even amused. "Two years, remember? And I'd still
be hanging on to him if it wasn't for you."

Andrea smiled ever so slightly, for the first time of the evening, which
delighted Fey.

"I still lead the 'most jerks dated' category, though..." she mused
jokingly.

"Damn straight" Fey said, with a mock 'better you than me' expression, and
yelped when Andrea poked her in the ribs.

Both women exploded in laughter.



Days turned into weeks.

Andrea soon forgot about George. In fact, her "mourning period" was short
lived, ending abruptly when she discovered that she was in line for a
promotion at the agency. Before the end of the month she was in charge of
several projects, and was even allotted a budget and given administrative
responsibilities. Someone had noticed the long hours she had put in and
things were definitely looking up.

Two weeks later, she took time on a lunch break to pay Rachel a visit.

She was a mutual friend of Andrea and Fey, was a tall and stunning brunette
working in a modeling agency, easily the best-looking girl Andrea knew. She
had provided useful contacts to Andrea who had landed her the job at the
Publicity Agency. Understandably, Andrea wanted to drop by and thank her
again for the lead--it wasn't the ideal job she had conceived of securing
when she had left college, but it was pretty close. If only she could get
PR assignments, she was sure she could really stand out.

The studio Rachel worked in currently was about fifteen minutes away from
her workplace--about halfway to a fast-serve restaurant she liked, not much
of a detour for her. She walked into the older looking building, nodding to
the receptionist in the main hall and asking on which floor she could find
the shooting studio. After a quick ride up an elevator, she walked onto a
vast indoor expanse, crammed with projectors, lighting equipment, cameras
and wooden panels which served as subdivisions for the extensive number of
simultaneous shoots presently going on. The ceiling was easily twice higher
than normal, and it seemed that everywhere she looked, there were two kinds
of people: gorgeous female models in various states of dress (or undress),
and neurotic, focused short men holding on tightly to their cameras,
meandering their way through the slightly crazed shooting schedules to make
their deadlines.

She inquired quickly to a short and dungy techie who scarcely gave her any
attention until she repeated three times that she was here to see Rachel,
and then proceeded to yell her friend's name in an ear-splitting voice that
made her wince. Seconds later, Rachel's head popped from around one of the
backdrops. The techie pointed over his shoulder to Andrea, mumbling
something before making a quick exit between the labyrinth of backdrops.

Rachel wore a light robe, under which Andrea could see a revealing dark
negligée, a garter belt and long, black stockings with intricate
patterns. The model stood a good inch over her on account of a pair of
black stiletto heels, and she walked over with an ease and detached
informality that seemed to contrast with her state of undress. Other women,
similarly attired, came and went, presumably part similar shoots, all of
them coldly detached and uncaring of the occasional lewd stare from a
technician taking five and admiring the scenery.

"It's been a while Andie" said Rachel brightly, hugging her friend with
enthusiasm. "I've been hearing good things through the grapevine."

"Well," Andrea said, unable to conceal her excitement, "I guess I've been
doing something right. They might move me up to the public relations
department if I can handle the ongoing projects."

"Moving up, mmh? Does this mean I get a finder's fee for getting you in?"
Rachel teased.

"Only if I were doing as well as you apparently are" Andrea countered, on
the same playful tone. "Now you're doing Victoria's Secret? When are you
leaving for Paris?"

Rachel winked as she straightened her bust, as if to show her tits
off. "You gotta use whatcha got baby" she managed, in a low, baritone
voice, nudging Andrea with her elbow. Both laughed heartily.

"How are you doing?" Rachel continued, in an obvious reference to Andrea's
ex. "I haven't been keeping up with my e-mail lately."

"Who?" Andrea inquired, with a wink.

"That was over quickly!" Rachel giggled. "I've talked to Fey, but I didn't
know how you still felt about all of this..."

There was a bit of an embarrassing silence then, as if Rachel had run out
of things to say--as if she needed to keep going but couldn't quite figure
how. It was a peculiar feeling, especially since Rachel wasn't usually much
of a motormouth. The sudden silence drew attention to it.

"You got time for lunch in your busy schedule?" Andrea said, quick to break
the hush.

"Not at the moment," Rachel answered briskly, with a slight sway in her
voice "we're doing catalogs. On the other hand, early next month might be
possible--there might be a lull in the shooting schedule. Say... Saturday?"

Andrea frowned momentarily. "I though Saturdays were out since you started
going out with that guy from the New York agency? Rob-something...?"

"Who?" Rachel asked, in her best imitation of Andrea's voice and
expression.

Their eyes locked. Andrea laughed again , shaking her head. "Jeez! *I*
haven't been keeping up with *my* mail! Since when did you break up with
him?"

"Since when he started trying to screw me over a deal--not to mention the
'if you want a lucrative contract, I'll have to know how far you're willing
to go' routine. Scum, like the rest of 'em." She seemed only slightly
annoyed despite the bitter comment, which struck Andrea as a bit odd
considering that Rachel was a rather passionate girl about these things.

Andrea caught sight of someone coming out of the sea of people and
projectors, and quickly spoke up. "Hey--Hey, is that Vivian?" She called
out her name, and the woman indeed stopped and turned, smiling back to the
two women.

Rachel's face froze for a second, and she gestured to Vivian to join
them. She did so immediately, though she seemed almost reluctant.

She was slightly petite, a semi-pro basketball player turned aerobics
instructor. Vivian took care of herself better than any of Andrea's
friends, and she had even benefited from a staff discount at the old gym
Viv used to work in two years back. She was well proportioned, with
slightly Mediterranean features--long dark hair, hazel eyes, and a
seemingly year-round soft tan.

"You still here?" Rachel asked Vivian. "I though you had left."

Vivian shrugged, her eyes shifting briefly towards what Andrea assumed to
be the ladies' room. "How are you?" she asked warmly, looking at Andrea.

"Doing better at work. Just thought I'd drop by to say Hi--I guess that
means we're synchronized."

Vivian nodded, but winced as she looked at her watch. "My boss is going to
kill me if I'm not back by One. I have to get going now if I want to beat
traffic." She gazed to the pair with apologetic eyes. "Can I make it up to
you both? A bitch session at Fey's one of these days?"

"Sounds good" Andrea said. Then: "This place is a fair's way from Wilson
and Wilson, Vivian. You came here during lunch?"

Vivian acquiesced nonchalantly. "We've been drafting contracts for Rachel's
agency lately. Since she counseled a few of her photographers to come our
way, I thought I'd come and thank her personally. I'm sorry, I *really*
have to get going."

Rachel and Andrea both nodded understandingly. "I'll talk to Fey," said the
latter, "we'll get together soon, I promise."

"Sounds great!" called out Vivian as she turned her heels and made
off. "Love ya!"

She waved, and for an instant, Andrea could have sworn that she had winked
at Rachel. She turned to see her friend looking on towards Vivian with a
strange, far-away look. She blinked and seemed to return to reality moments
later. They made small talk for another ten minutes or so, before the
techie who had called for Rachel earlier screamed for her once again, and
she ran off, apologizing and promising to keep in touch.



Work piled up something fierce. The recent transfer to the PR department
was an opportunity for Andrea to show off her people skills, and show off
she most certainly did. Her new boss, the third in as many months, was
pleased with the feedback from the long-standing clients, and had decided
to increase her responsibilities.

And her salary. With her commission bonus, she would rake in an extra ten,
maybe fifteen thousand by the end of the year.

She saw Fey from time to time, but that was pretty much all the time off
she could afford. She found deadlines to be a rather effective antidote to
the occasional longing for romance she still felt. The workdays were long,
and she was content to come home, eat a bite, and take a long shower before
bed.

Hot water streamed down her body as she stood in the shower, knowing it to
be the highlight of this calm and quiet Wednesday night. She stepped out
after a few minutes, urinated, put on a bathrobe and fixed herself a diet
strawberry shake before slumping in the single couch that sat in front of
the newly purchased 17 inch television to watch the 11 o'clock
newscast. She got as far as the International news before shutting it
off. She finished the shake, left the empty glass in the sink and headed
off to sleep.

Lying in her bed, trying to doze off without thinking of work, she closed
her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Sleep eluded her, but she felt
her muscles relax. She shifted between the satin sheets of the massive
double bed, delighted to have it all to herself.

And then, with that strange kind of mental spark that generates unrelated
thoughts, she began thinking of Fey. Soon after, she drifted into a light
sleep.

She felt free, secure and happy. She would later remember her dreamlike
surroundings as that of a sunny tropical beach on a remote island, though
in the hazy, fantastical atmosphere of reverie, it could just as easily
have been a beautiful mountain scenery or a sophisticated expanse of
luxurious gardens hidden away behind a sumptuous manor.

Fey was with her. Both stood face to face, ghostly dreams in an imagined
realm, holding each other in an embrace that was far more than sisterly.

Neither was adorned with clothing of any kind.

And in that strange, out-of-body experience not altogether uncommon in
dreams, Andrea saw herself touch and caress Fey in ways that would have
made her conscious self blush furiously. Fey reciprocated approvingly, her
soft smile seductive and inviting. Soon, both women were locked in a
passionate soul kiss, their lips softly touching, their tongues roaming and
searching with delirious passion.

It was as if the universe around them gravitated slowly, deliberately, an
audience to the display of beauty, love and lust. Their nipples hardened,
as each woman used their fingers to softly caressed the other's
pussy. Their delicious fondling soon produced orgasmic results. Still
locked in a kiss, their climax came quickly and effortlessly, a beautiful
thing.

Andrea awoke with a start, unsure of how long ago she had dozed off. Her
sheets were damp, her breath was shallow, and a strange and not altogether
unpleasant warmth had invaded her pussy. She fell back in bed, eyes
searching the ceiling, trying to understand the fleeting dream she had just
had. Her mind, clouded and confused, had trouble putting the pieces
together. The urge grew inside her, and she instinctively realized she
needed release. Her hand quickly found its way under her nightgown, and she
discovered that she was even more wet than she thought. She closed her
eyes, falling into a slow, familiar rhythm, her agile fingers beginning
their work.

She conjured up several images and fantasies in quick succession, but it
was not long before Fey's delicate face came to her. In the heat of lustful
passion, she did not feel overly alarmed--she had once fantasized about
making love to other woman as she fingered herself. But she had never
seriously considered a sexual encounter with another woman. The sudden
fantasy seem both unexpected... and welcome.

Without thinking much of it, she settled on the image, picturing Fey's
shapely and feminine body, and felt her arousal increase abruptly. She
focused on the feelings inside her, on the pleasure she felt as her fingers
began stroking her wet pussy. As she imagined Fey's nakedness, her soft
skin, she saw herself drawing near her, caressing her feminine body. Fey
had long auburn hair, down to her lower back, and her soft features
combined with her hauntingly dark green eyes, her slim waist and long legs,
made her attractive... desirable. Before long, Andrea's fingers were buried
deep in her own slit, her knees parting of their own accord as if to
accommodate an invisible lover. Her back began to arch as she neared a
powerful climax, reflections of Fey's breasts, face, legs and cunt dancing
behind her closed eyelids.

Her orgasm overtook her brutally, and was strong and long. She found
herself shouting incoherently and without reserve, unexpectedly intense
pleasure coursing through her. Her body trembled and shook for the next
minute or so, and all energy left her as the tremors subsided. She stayed
in her bed, motionless, warmth and sweat and juices seeping inside her
sheets. Her eyes opened, and looked up to the ceiling for the longest time,
her face devoid of expression. Slowly, absentmindedly, her fingers rose to
her lips, brushing against them. She licked her own juices.

And found herself wondering what Fey would taste like.



Fey opened the door to Andrea and caught herself staring. Andrea wasn't
exactly dressed for a night on the town as they had previously planned,
wearing only a white T-shirt, a pair of jeans and sneakers. "Uh... I don't
think they'll let you in the club Andrea" she cautioned.

Andrea shrugged. "I'm not feeling like going out actually. I figured I'd
stop by anyway and see if you were up for something a little more
low-key. Cup of coffee or something. If not I'll take a rain check--but I
figured it'd be best if I apologize in person for dropping out."

She stared at Fey, who was dressed to *thrill*. Her bosom was wrapped in
tight silk, and a short skirt showed off her beautiful legs. Her lips were
of a luscious shade of red, bringing to Andrea's mind images that had
haunted her dreams every night for the last week. She tried hard not to
blush.

"No problem" said Fey at once, with an kindly smile. "Work has been a bit
hectic lately, and I wouldn't mind taking a break. Coffee sounds
great. Just give me time to get out of this--I'd be a little conspicuous."
She winked playfully at Andrea and quickly hopped back into her apartment,
motioning for her friend to come in. Andrea had to stop herself from
telling her to keep what she had on--her friend's dress was certainly an
eyeful. Part of her felt weak and unsure, not quite used to thinking along
such lines after nurturing a purely non-sexual friendship with Fey since
the first day they met.

She was still desperately trying to sort herself out.

Fey came out of her room a minute later, dressed in a black tank-top and a
pair of white cotton pants.

Andrea stared on for a few seconds, and Fey blinked. "Everything alright
Andrea?"

Andrea smiled softly. "Sure."



It was a small French café, with a menu that adequately suited the
Parisian surroundings. Both sat in a comfortable booth, next to a large
photo of the Arc de Triomphe basking in nighttime illumination, itself
flanked by a Renoir portrait. Andrea had ordered a selection of cheese
which she shared with Fey, along with a bottle of Porteaux.

"I don't know what's going on with Vivian" she stated, after telling Fey of
her visit at the studio. "I know she's hung around Rachel longer than
either of us, but it seemed like she was sneaking out of the studio when I
saw her."

Fey's expression was pensive, but quickly returned to normal as Andrea
looked up again. "I wouldn't worry about it Andrea," she offered
supportively, "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably worried about her boss,
that's all." Her voice had seemed hesitant to her ears, and she wondered if
Andrea had caught it.

"I can't put my finger on it, Fey. Even Rachel acted a bit strange. Hardly
let me get a word in edgewise. That's not like her--she seemed a tad
nervous or something."

"The shoot?" Fey offered as explanation.

Andrea arched an eyebrow, puzzled. "I roomed with Rachel for two years
remember? Haven't seen anything I haven't seen before. Besides, since when
has Rachel been self-conscious about her body? She's not exactly in the
right line of work if she's shy, is she?"

Fey held up her hands, and Andrea winced inwardly, realizing she was
becoming defensive. She gave her and apologetic look, and her friend
smiled, patting her nonchalantly on the arm.

For a moment, she caught her own breath. She had always been fairly relaxed
around Fey, not giving a second thought to a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or
even holding her hand. But in this instance, after the dreams that had
recurred over and over, after the thoughts and fantasies that she had
entertained, she tensed up.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Rachel and Viv are still OK with
you. Models and lawyers... even *we're* a little worked out... it's
nothing." Fey was almost whispering, her face coming closer to hers, her
eyes looking at her softly, with a strange light glowing in them.

Andrea's throat dried up. Her hands felt frozen, Fey's warm fingers
covering in her own. Her friend's red lips parted softly as she crept
close.

For one eternal, intense, painful moment, Andrea's heart refused to beat.

The seconds trickled by, interminably. Fey hovered, inches away... and her
eyes shifted down. Her hand idly slid from Andrea's returning to her
lap. Her smile lost its enigmatic, eerie quality, becoming simply
sympathetic. Casual.

Friendly.

They talked of little or unimportant things, as they often did.



Andrea's place was a good walk away from Fey's, certainly a detour from the
Café, but she strode along with Fey, chaperoning her towards her
place. The sound of her own heartbeat thundered loudly inside her, and she
tried to focus on the sidewalk, ignoring the wetness between her legs and
the growing intoxication of being near Fey.

They got to the apartment, their excuse for a conversation having reached
an abrupt end, their eyes averting each other's.

"I guess I'll see you--"

"It's really late" Fey piped up suddenly. "I'd hate for you to call a
cab. Why don't you just crash over?"

Fey's words had come in a rush. Too suddenly. But Andrea's heart was
thundering again, her palms sweaty.

"Sure." She managed, her voice sounding as dry as sandpaper to her own
ears.

They climbed the flights of stairs in heavy silence, as if fate was
steering them towards a dangerous crisis. Andrea's feelings for Fey, ablaze
inside her, were briskly consuming any notion of taboo her sexual identity
was built upon.

They sneaked inside Fey's apartment like a pair of thieves, still not a
word spoken between them. When the door closed behind them, their eyes met
once again.

They melted into each other's arms, their embrace tender and loving beyond
anything in their friendship. Their lips met in a soft, passionate kiss,
the kiss of lovers who had long lived apart. They tasted of each other,
slowly, languorously, as if getting to know each other all over again.

Andrea's hands reached behind Fey's back, tracing the soft curve of her
spine before lightly caressing her hips. Fey's fingers rose up slowly to
Andrea's chin, cradling her face as she continued to mash her lips against
hers. Their tongues met in the steaming exchange, at once daring and
hesitant.

They came up for air and quickly renewed their embrace, Andrea now planting
soft kisses down her friend's neck while Fey threw her head back. She felt
energy coursing through her, instilling her with fierce desire. She was
quickly loosing control of her own lust, her tongue dancing over Fey's
skin, as if to taste every inch of her body.

"My God... I want you Fey... I want you so bad... I've wanted you..." she
whispered frantically.

Fey shushed her reassuringly. "I'm yours... Andrea... ohhh... yeahhh..."

Andrea had begun rubbing her leg up and down Fey's inner thigh. She brushed
Fey's pelvis with her knee, which got her to moan softly in her ear. She
could not believe how hot it made her to have a woman moan like that, as
she was doing these things to her. She felt the hard nipples rub the inside
of her t-shit, felt Fey's through her own, and suddenly gripped her
shoulders, shifting her towards the nearest sofa as she continued to plant
wet kisses all over her neck.

In a quick and mutual gesture, both took off their t-shirts and
bras. Andrea and Fey fell next to each other, their hands now softly
cradling the other's breasts. They looked at each other, smiling wickedly,
and Andrea's head came down first, her sensitive tongue eagerly sliding
past her lips to tease Fey's nipples. She was slow and deliberate at first,
letting saliva run down her tongue and lathering Fey's breasts, only to lap
it up the next instant.

Fey, falling back into the couch, moaned louder and louder.. "Yeahhh
baby... ohhh, Andrea... suck my tit... ooohhh...  you're making me
sooooo..." she ended the sentence with a squeal as Andrea playfully bit
down, feeling Fey's nipple harden even more between her teeth. Amazingly,
Andrea was sure that this did more for her than for Fey.

Andrea soon began fumbling with Fey's pants, and quickly unfastened
them. She slowly slid off and fell to the floor, on her knees, while Fey
raised her legs slightly, kicking her sneakers off and allowing Andrea to
pull her pants off. Andrea gazed at her beautiful legs, and then settled on
her white panties, which were soaked.

"My you're a horny little bitch!" she said, smiling at her sudden
boldness. "I bet you've been horny since this afternoon--I bet you wanted
to get me to a Dyke bar tonight, am I right?"

Fey giggled at Andrea's sudden trash talk, her legs coming down on either
side of her lover's head, gently resting on shoulders.

"You can have me Andrea. Please..." Her eyes were filled with growing love
and with passionate lust.

Andrea's smile grew taunting. "Ask nicely and maybe I'll consider it."

Fey's expression became a pleading one. "Please... Andrea."

"Please what?"

"Please... eat me..."

"Eat what?" Andrea asked, her tone playfully even.

Fey whimpered. "Eat... my pussy... please... suck my pussy."

"You mean, like this?"

Andrea's finger's brushed the panties aside gently, her tongue softly
caressing Fey's pink folds for the first time. She felt her head grow
light, the intoxicating sensations... smell, taste, sight and touch... all
contributing to her growing need for orgasmic release. She gently licked
Fey's beautiful, wet slit, like she had done so many times in her dreams
these last few weeks... as if she had done so for years...

"OHHHHhhhh YEEAAAHH... ohhh... that's it... OOOOHH!!" Fey's voice rose
sharply as Andrea teased her clit with the edge of her tongue, and she
could not hide a slight smile even as she continued its delightful
task. Soon, Fey's words turned to moans, and then to screams. She felt her
lover's hands on her head, pressing down with urgency, and fiercely buried
her tongue deep inside Fey's pussy as she came. She opened her mouth
eagerly, trying to drink as much of Fey's essence as she could.

She continued to lick and suck even after Fey's orgasm had subsided,
worshipping her lover's pussy without a care for her own needs. She had
brought Fey to an intense climax by sucking her sweet cunt, and the
realization filled her with a warmth and feeling of well-being that
momentarily doused the fire burning inside her. She glanced at Fey's
expression of blissful content, and responded eagerly when she called her
name.

"Come to me Andrea. Kiss me..."

Andrea obeyed willingly and presently, her lips still glistening with Fey's
juices. Their lips met once more, Fey tasting of herself, and relishing in
the erotic act. She pulled Andrea to her, shifting slightly on the sofa so
both could once again be side by side. Fey's left hand slowly slithered
inside Andrea's jeans, and under the elastic band of her panties. Even as
she lapped up of herself fervently, her fingers found Andrea's hot, wet
cunt, and began rubbing gently.

Andrea's reaction was both immediate and sudden, her body shaking as Fey
was slowly masturbating her. She tried to keep her lips locked in the
passionate kiss they were enjoying, but the fire was burning inside her
once more, and she began to breathe quickly, almost hyperventilating.

"Fey.... Ohhhh... don't stop... please don't stop... OOOHHHHH!"

Her instant climax coursed like lightening inside her, shattering her soul
in a million pieces. She cried out until her throat felt raw, her pelvis
thrusting forwards against Fey's hand in the long instants that
followed. And afterwards, as the intense pleasure slowly ebbed away from
her body, and she slumped backwards, her body soaked in sweat, she would
feel Fey's warm breath upon her cheek, and the wetness of her fingers upon
her lips. Her eyes closed, she would obediently lick Fey's hand, before
their tongues met once again, in an amorous dance.

Much later, after long hours of lovemaking, they would lie, limbs
intertwined in an impassioned embrace, they would talk of a new life for
both of them A life together. A life to be shared in passion and love.



To be continued...