Date: Mon, 26 Sep 2011 22:03:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: AfroerotiK <fantasies@afroerotik.com>
Subject: Friends and Lovers

Tracy Robinson had a hard and fast rule: Do NOT, under any circumstances,
never, ever, ever fool around with a married man.  She'd been married and
cheated on and she remembered all too well the pain it caused her.  In her
mind there was no valid, justifiable reason to date someone who she knew
was going to be a liar from the very beginning; she had enough respect for
herself to not date someone else's man.  Because she was bisexual, the same
theory applied to women as well.  Women were slightly different in that she
rarely, if ever, had a married woman trying to seduce her.  Most women
weren't after illicit sex and extramarital liaisons with random other women
so while Tracy felt morally righteous and superior for saying on principle
that she never messed around with a married woman, the instances of her
being tempted by a married woman were almost non-existent.

Tracy was the kind of woman who felt comfortable adhering to rules.  She'd
served in the military for 20 years and was now enjoying her life pursuing
her dreams of becoming an artist.  In many ways, it was the exact opposite
of the strict, rigid life she'd had in The Army.  She could stand in front
of a canvas for hours, sometimes forgetting to eat, on only two or three
hours of sleep a night, and paint to her heart's content.  Several local
galleries were showing her work and while the sales were few and far
between, they were enough to keep her motivated to continue her passion.
Her military pension paid the bills so she was comfortable and happy.
Single life wasn't necessarily to her liking but she wasn't so desperate to
be in relationship that she would jump at the first man who showed her
attention either.  Her 40th birthday was coming up, she was relatively
content in life, and didn't really have a care in the world.

When they say that life has a way of knocking you off your feet, sometimes
that can be literal.  In her garden pulling weeds one day, Tracy made a
wrong move and ended up face up in amongst her gardenias unable to move.
If it hadn't been for her trusty letter carrier happening along, she might
have been there for hours.  After a very brief stint in the local hospital,
she ended up in the VA for rehabilitation and physical therapy.  She'd
injured her back in the military years before and it had a habit of acting
up every once in a while, but after a few days rest, it might literally be
years before another flare up.  If her blood sugar hadn't been so out of
control, she would have been released with the usual, "Take care, don't
over-exert yourself, take two pain killers and call me in the morning,"
shtick.  The combination of the medicine and the fact that she hadn't been
eating well were causing her glucose levels to go up and down like a yo-yo,
sometimes spiking to dangerous levels.  They released her but with orders
for a nurse to come visit her home for follow up visits and make sure she
was getting insulin when and if she needed it and monitor her progress.
Say what you want about the military, and disregarding the times when they
occasionally drop the ball, their care for their own is beyond compare.

Itching to get back to her canvases and ready to assume more responsibility
for her health, Tracy started eating well and doing all the exercises they
suggested she do for slowly strengthening her back muscles the minute she
got home.  If there was a regimen to be performed, Tracy could do it.  She
didn't want or need a nurse coming to check on her; she wanted to paint.
Twice a week, whether she wanted it or not, a nurse was to come to check on
her until the doctor released her.  The first day Karen showed up, Tracy
tried her best to be polite but it was more than apparent that she was
frustrated and anxious about someone taking care of her.  Karen was
respectful of the retired Major, even calling her Ma'am.  She was warm,
gracious, and a highly competent nurse as well.  Tracy insisted, "Do not
call me Ma'am.  I'm not in the military anymore."  The two ladies had a
rapport immediately.  While she could have been in and out in twenty
minutes, Karen stayed for almost an hour, getting to know her new patient
and asking all sorts of questions to ensure that she was getting the best
care possible and that her recovery was imminent.  Karen was very
personable, meaning she liked getting to know her patients in order to
provide them with the absolute best care. She felt like it was her
responsibility to extend herself to her patients, to be a friend to them.

Karen was, for all intents and purposes . . . well . . . not exactly the
complete physical opposite of Tracy, but there were some significant
differences.  Other than the obvious difference in race, Tracy being Black
and Karen being white; Tracy was taller than average, Karen was of average
height.  They both had similar builds but Karen had recently given birth
and was nursing and the owner of very large, very sensitive breasts.  They
were both very attractive women who didn't feel a need to flaunt it and
downplayed their attractiveness out of sensibility and practicality.  The
two women hit it off immediately and seemed to become friends from
essentially day one.  There was that connection, that intangible bond you
get sometimes when you meet someone and you feel as if you've known them
forever.  Or, at the very least, that you can open up to them in ways you
can't with others.  Karen hadn't even been coming two full weeks when Tracy
started looking forward to her visits.  They would break up the monotony of
her day, provide her company, and she enjoyed sharing her artwork with
Karen.

One day, Karen stopped by on a day she wasn't scheduled to visit.  She said
she just wanted to check up on Tracy.  The visit lasted almost two hours
and the women talked about life, love, and everything else under the sun.
It was that day that Tracy realized that the chemistry she shared with
Karen was more than platonic.  It was that night that Tracy allowed herself
to have her very first fantasy about Karen.  She lay in bed, tossing and
turning, fantasizing about her new friend.  Her hormones raged and her body
ached to explore a more physical, sensual connection with the woman who had
mandatory access to her home two times a week.  Because she had been
compelled to keep her sexuality secret and hidden in the military, Tracy
had been accustomed to not opening up to anyone but potential lovers about
her preferences.  The newly emerging artist in Tracy was different. It was
almost as if the minute she picked up a paint brush, she became committed
to telling the truth, with her art and with her heart.

"Hey friend, come on in," Tracy said as she opened the door widely to greet
Karen on her next scheduled visit.  This time, rather than her hands and
clothes being covered in paint, she was wearing a teal colored blouse and
jeans that would be what she'd wear on a casual date with a man.  She
watched for Karen's reaction carefully as she undid the buttons on her
shirt to reveal a black lace push up bra as she listened to her heart.
Tracy rested her right hand on Karen's thigh as she pricked the finger on
her left hand to test her blood sugar.  Still no response.  Karen seemed to
be oblivious to any sexual tension and went about her business
professionally and reported that she would in fact be telling the doctor
that Tracy was cleared for release.

Visibly saddened, Tracy sighed and said, "I'm going to miss you,
friend. It's been great getting to know you over this short period of
time."

"Oh, I can still stop by and see you," Karen responded.  "I have other
patients in the area and I would be more than happy to stop by and check on
you every once in a while."  She added, "You know, my life is so routine,
so predictable.  I've been married to the same man for fifteen years, we've
been in a relationship since high school; I've been in the military for
more than a decade. I'm a mom and a wife and a nurse.  You're an artist.  I
admire what you're doing.  It's so, you know, different. I think what
you're doing is fascinating and I love your work and I just think you're a
really interesting, really nice person."  It wasn't exactly what Tracy
wanted to hear but it felt nice regardless and she knew Karen was being
sincere.  The last things she wanted to do was alienate her new friend so
they hugged goodbye with promises of seeing one another again.

Before the week was out, Karen called and asked if it was okay if she
stopped by.  Tracy was elated.  She grabbed a bottle of wine, some cheese
and crackers and set out a little tray.  "I finished with all my patients
early today and I just didn't feel like going home yet," Karen blurted out
the second she walked in.  "My sister-in-law is watching the baby and my
older two have practice after school.  I just needed a little adult time, I
hope you don't mind."

Mind?  Was she crazy?  Tracy was elated.  Karen graciously accepted the
offer of the chilled Pinot Grigio at 3:00 in the afternoon and nibbled on
the smoked gouda and crackers.  Nestled comfortably on her sofa, the two
women continued to open up to one another in ways that far exceeded most
burgeoning friendships.  They were both revealing personal information
about each other, about their sex lives, love lives, fears, dreams,
frustrations, things that usually come after knowing someone a long time.
As the proverbial clock struck 5, Karen had to leave and her car was barely
out the driveway before Tracy had her vibrator out and was frantically
stimulating her already aroused pussy.

In the following weeks, the unscripted visits became more frequent, with
Karen sometimes stopping by on her lunch breaks, after seeing all her
patients, and even on her days off.  The beauty of their conversations was
that they were deep, raw, and honest, not at all superficial. Tracy didn't
want to seem obvious, so some days she would offer herbal tea or juice,
others nothing at all, and occasionally, when she thought she might get
Karen to loosen up a bit more, she offered some form of alcohol, you know,
all under the guise of being a gracious hostess.  Her nights were tortured
and sweaty, fantasizing about making love to her new friend, terrified she
might lose her if she revealed her lust but aroused beyond belief by the
connection.

Eventually, Tracy knew it was time to reveal her true feelings.  She
decided she would do it with a painting.  Inspired, the piece came to life
and she invited her friend to her studio to reveal it.  "It's not
finished," she mumbled, terrified about being rejected as an artist and a
friend.  As Karen stared at the canvas, she could clearly make out two
women who could not be confused for anyone other than herself and Tracy in
a very intimate, semi-nude embrace.

"Oh my!  Is that who I think it is?"  Tracy nodded, too scared to say
anything at that moment.  "I'm flattered," Karen said, trying to be careful
not to hurt her friend's feelings.  "You know . . . I'm not attracted to
you like that, right?  I just want to be friends."

Tracy felt a sense of relief almost.  It wasn't as if she wanted Karen to
rip her clothes off and for them to fuck in the middle of the floor, it was
more like she just needed her friend to see all of her, to know her truth,
to not hide any parts of herself anymore.  She felt free.  She mumbled
something about the chemistry and the connection they shared and apologized
in ten different ways for making Karen uncomfortable and asked if they
could just remain friends.  For all of her infatuation, Tracy knew that
Karen was married and she wasn't about to break that rule, even if the
attraction was mutual.

The dynamics of the relationship did change after that.  Karen was more
hesitant to come by, not because she didn't like Tracy any more but because
she felt awkward.  Tracy was gracious but offered no alcohol on their brief
visits.  Their conversations were more tentative and reserved for a few
weeks.  Before long, water found its own level and everything was back to
being comfortable, with the small exception of the fact that they two
didn't mention the sexual attraction thing.  It didn't need to be
mentioned.  There was a growing sexual tension between the two women.  They
would sit closer together on the sofa, touch more.  A bright lamp in the
corner of the room would eventually become replaced by the soft glow of
candlelight.  Their hugs goodbye lasted longer and it was more than evident
that Karen was beginning to trust Tracy in ways she never thought possible.

"What's it like," Karen asked one day as she stared at her cup of tea,
assuming Tracy would know immediately what she was talking about.

Tracy did understand.  The rapport they had built together was based on a
certain level of non-verbal communication.  "You mean being with another
woman?"  Karen nodded.  "Well, it can be the most tender, gentle, sensual
experience you've ever had, in a way that no man could ever touch you, kiss
you or satisfy you.  It can be just as intense and frenzied as fucking a
man.  Mostly, for me, the difference is there is no end objective.  You
know when you're with a man that everything he does is with one goal in
mind, to get to the fucking.  With a woman, there is no such agenda; it's
all about the journey, not the destination.  I've made love to a woman for
eight hours once and my only goal was to get her to the very edge of orgasm
and then stop over and over and over again.  At the end of six hours, she
was screaming for me to . . . "  Tracy stopped in mid sentence.  Karen was
breathing heavy, visibly aroused, and her shirt showed signs of her breasts
leaking.  She leaned in close and tilted Karen's face towards hers, their
lips virtually close enough for a kiss, making intense eye contact.  "Are
you okay?"

"You know, I told John about . . . you know . . . about . . . well, I told
him about the painting and everything.  We aren't prudes by any means, we
experiment like any other couple, watch porn, whatever we can to keep our
sex life from being boring.  It's just that you do get in a rut after
you've been married a while, the same thing no matter how hard you try.  He
got really turned on when I told him.  In fact, our sex life has been
really great ever since I shared with him about . . . it, I mean us, I mean
. . . you know what I mean.  It's just that, I keep wondering what it would
be like to . . . you know . . . well, I'm sure you know.  The last thing I
want to do is lead you on and I don't want to lose our friendship but I
would be lying if I didn't tell you that I've been thinking about what it
would be like."  Karen was blushing and embarrassed but intimate enough
with her friend to open up honestly.

Tracy reached out and held her friend's hand.  "I'll answer any questions
you have and I won't stop being your friend.  I won't do anything that will
make you feel uncomfortable.  I promise.  I have a policy; I don't fool
around with anyone who is married so we are pretty safe to talk about
anything.  It will go no further than that.  If you want to talk about sex
with me and go home and fuck your husband like crazy, that is just fine
with me."

They both laughed and hugged but the sexual tension was so thick in the air
you could cut it with a knife.  Karen gathered her things and bolted out
there like lightning.  Over the next few months, their relationship took on
a new dynamic.  Karen flirted, tempted, and teased and Tracy was holding
fast to her rule about not fooling around with a married woman.  Karen
started forsaking her other friends, friends she's known since high school,
to come spend time Tracy.  She loved the feeling of freedom she got the
very minute she walked through the door, the ability to tell the truth that
she didn't have with her other friends.  She loved the sexual tension and
she had begun being more discriminate about the things she shared with her
husband, not wanting him to know exactly how turned on she was getting
sharing time with another woman.  Karen knew that for all Tracy's
integrity, she would never cross the line, so she felt nothing about
teasing her friend, making not so subtle suggestions and then running out
the door to the safety of her husband and married life.

One night, a little after one in the morning, Karen, audibly upset, called
Tracy and said, "Sorry to wake you, but John and I had a really bad fight,
do you mind if I crash at your place?  I just can't stand the thought of
sleeping next to him right now.  I need to get out of the house and I
. . . well, I just want to come there to be honest."  Tracy extended an
offer for her friend to stay with her and said she would leave a key under
the mat and the guest room ready for her whenever she got there.  Karen was
already on her way.

Within a half hour, she was in Tracy's driveway and the key was under the
mat as promised.  She quietly let herself in and peeked in the guest room
with towels on the end of the bed and a cute little gift basket of
toiletries on the dresser.  Tentatively, she walked past the guest room to
Tracy's master bedroom.  Curiosity had gotten the best of her and she had
to find out what it was like in real life.  She was desperate to know what
it was like to make love to another woman.  She tiptoed in and folded her
clothes in a neat pile as she undressed completely.  Tracy lay sleeping
quietly.  She pulled back the covers and crawled in bed, snuggling her body
against the warmth of her friend's brown body.

Tracy awoke immediately, still groggy but very sure that there was a naked
body next to hers.  "Karen, what are you doing?  Don't do this.  Please."

Tracy's words were silenced with a kiss.  Karen placed her lips against
Tracy's and they shared an intimate, tender kiss, like only two women can
share.  Again, Tracy protested.  "Karen, I'm not strong enough to withstand
this kind of pressure.  What about John?"

"I need this.  I want this!  You want it too.  Please, don't make me go.
Make love to me.  Fuck me.  Do whatever you want to me but don't make me
go."  The words choked up in her throat as the tears came.  She couldn't
leave, she wouldn't leave.  This wasn't just about some random fuck with a
stranger to get off.  This wasn't a cheap thrill.  This was a woman she
loved as a friend, cared about, shared with, and to whom she was strangely
attracted.  She wanted to experience the thing that she had tried to deny
for months.  There was no denying that her clit would throb and her pussy
would get moist when she was with Tracy, when they were sitting back
talking, at times not even about sex.  There was no denying that when she
was having sex with her husband, she was thinking about what it would feel
like to have a woman's mouth on her, licking her, tasting her, eating her,
about how different it would feel.

She didn't have time to think too much about the ramifications of her
actions.  Tracy rolled over and positioned herself over Karen.  Their legs
intertwined.  Karen reached up and pulled the t-shirt from Tracy's sleepy
frame and tossed it to the floor.  She felt sexy and wanted in the moment.

"Are you sure you want this, want me?"

Feeling more confident than she'd felt in a very long time, she reached up
and placed her mouth on Tracy's.  Their lips gently parted and their
tongues found each other's.  Electricity shot through Karen's body.  Almost
immediately, her pussy began to throb and pulse, getting wetter than she'd
remembered in a very long time.  A sound escaped her lips, one of pleasure
and arousal.  Tracy kissed her back and their kiss because more passionate
but still very, extraordinarily sensual.  Tracy kissed her way down Karen's
neck, tasting her skin, pressing her lips to the erotic hot spots Karen had
almost forgotten she had.  Her body responded.  She was writhing, twisting,
panting and incredibly turned on.  She'd imagined what it would be like to
be with a woman but in her wildest imagination she had never thought that
it would feel so excruciatingly erotic.  By the time Tracy's lips got to
her collar bone, sounds were escaping her lips that sounded strange to her
own ears.

In the darkness of her bedroom, in the middle of the night, Tracy put aside
all her misgivings about engaging in an affair with a married person and
gave in to her desires.  Before her was a sensual woman, a needy woman who
deserved to be made love to and pleasured like she'd never experienced
previously.  The woman beneath her was a friend, a person she knew inside
and out, a woman she had craved sexually for months.  She took her time and
prepared to pleasure and seduce Karen until she begged her to stop.

If she had been given the opportunity to prepare, she would have had
various toys and things like honey, ice cubes, satin sheets, a blindfold,
and maybe even a hot all-girl movie ready.  With nothing but her hands and
mouth, she set to work.  Unsure of how to handle the lactation thing, she
decided to proceed slowly and let Karen decide how and where she should go.
With that decision, she decided to lick everywhere but her nipples.
Methodically, she kissed, licked, and erotically nibbled her way from
Karen's collarbone to her belly button and back again, not missing a spot
in between.

Every nerve ending in Karen's body felt alive with excitement.  She was
tense and aroused and nervous all at the same time.  She didn't know what
to do with her hands so she gripped the sheets tightly and held on for dear
life.  Tracy took Karen's hands and placed them on her hips.  Even in the
darkness of night, she could see the contrast in skin tone, feel the
softness of a woman's flesh.  Her hands began to roam, gently caressing
Tracy's curves.  Tracy responded, "Mmmmm, that feels so nice.  Don't stop.
Oh, yeah, feel my tits."  Karen froze momentarily and then took a deep
breath and did just that.  The weight, the fullness, the feeling of those
hard, dark nipples in her hands was sensory overload.  Something deep
inside her, something instinctual made her want those nipples in her mouth.
Without saying a word, Tracy knew and lowered her tits to her waiting
mouth.

Karen took to making love to a woman like a duck takes to water.  She
licked and kissed and softly sucked like she wanted to be sucked.  She did
it the way she knew deep in her gut would feel pleasurable.  In that moment
she understood what people meant when they said that only another woman
knows how to pleasure a woman.  Tracy was moaning, rubbing her pussy
against Karen's thigh.  It was slippery and hot and distracting.  "Oh,
Tracy, this is driving me crazy.  Fuck me."

Tracy responded with a smile.  She turned Karen over and proceeded to kiss
her way down her back, her thighs, all over her ass, her tongue leaving a
wet trail down her spine.  Karen had had enough of the tease and wanted
more.  Tracy grabbed her hips and pulled her to her knees, causing Karen to
gasp for air.  She gently parted the soft, pink folds of flesh that
enveloped all that made Karen a woman and stared.  Almost imperceptibly,
she took her finger and gently caressed Karen's clit.  In that moment Karen
was 100% sure John had never touched her so softly, never found her spot so
intentionally.  She arched her back and let out a hiss.  Her breathing was
short, raspy.  The sensation didn't last long as Tracy's fingertips
explored further, softly touching and caressing her soaking wet pussy.  The
next sensation she felt was that of hot breath on her inner thighs, her
ass, her pussy.  It was as if Tracy was making love to her pussy with her
eyes, not even touching it, just looking at it, examining it in a way no
one had ever done before.  Karen was chanting, "Eat me . . . lick me
. . . fuck me . . . FUCK ME . . ."

Reaching between her legs, Karen started to rub her own pussy but Tracy
moved her hand away.  She replaced her fingertip with her tongue and began
to lick softly.  Karen's words now were incoherent, she was speaking the
language of supreme ecstasy.  From her clit to her asshole and back again,
Tracy tasted every inch of Karen's wet slit.  She sucked where she was
supposed to, licked in just the right spots.  And just when Karen didn't
think she could take any more teasing, Tracy took her fingers and pushed
them inside Karen's dripping wet pussy.  They probed and pushed all the
right spots.  That was enough to send her over the edge but Tracy had other
plans.  Flipping her over, holding her legs back, Tracy started licking her
again.  This time her focus was solely on her clit, she was going to bring
her to orgasm with the flicking motion of her tongue.  Karen grabbed
Tracy's head and held it close as she sputtered profanities and practically
screamed how good it felt.

Just as Karen was about to reach her special moment, Tracy stopped.  She
climbed up Karen's body and kissed her again, letting her taste her own
juices.  Karen sucked her tongue feverishly.  She felt out of control.  She
was caressing Tracy's body now, begging for release.  She felt uninhibited,
unrestrained by the fears and apprehensions she previously possessed.
Then, there, it was about feeling good, nothing more, nothing less.  She
held up her tits to her friend.  "Here, suck them."  It was a symbolic
gesture, symbolizing a closeness and a bond that the two friends shared.
It was representative of giving her sexuality to a woman in a way that most
would never share.

Tracy needed no further encouragement and lowered her mouth to the hardened
nipples.  Softly, she sucked.  It wasn't about her pleasure, it was about
the intimacy, connection, and passion between the two friends.  As her
mouth filled with the sweet, warm liquid, she heard Karen's gentle moans.
Her own pussy was flowing freely now as her friend humped her thigh against
her mound.  She slid her fingers inside Karen again, this time, intending
to give her an earth-shattering orgasm.  At this point, Karen was so wet,
the entire room was filled with the sounds of her being finger fucked.

Both women were moaning, groaning, chanting, cursing.  At the last minute,
Tracy slid her body around and placed her pussy against Karen's.  It was
soft and wet and unlike anything Karen had ever felt before.  They fucked
each other.  They rubbed their clits against one another, pink against
pink, holding on to each other for dear life until they both felt the waves
of impending pleasure overtake them.

Karen slid out of bed in the early morning hours.  She needed to get home
to the kids before they started moving around.  She softly kissed Tracy
goodbye and whispered that she would call her later that afternoon.
Tracy's heart dropped.  She felt terrible about breaking her own rule.
Karen comforted her as best she could under the circumstances, assured her
that their friendship was important and she was unwilling to let it go.
Tracy wasn't sure exactly what the future held for their friendship but she
willing to face the consequences, come what may.

Copyright 2011 AfroerotiK All Rights Reserved