Part One – A Meeting and a Fall

Christie heard the sound of a large truck outside, the brakes puffing air. She put down her coffee, and went to the kitchen window. Outside, she saw a big moving van easing in the driveway of the house next door.

Christie brushed away a strand of blonde hair from her forehead. Her pale blue eyes took in the scene. So, she thought, someone finally bought the Emerson place. It had been on the market for several months. New neighbors. Perhaps someone to talk to.

She saw a blue Miata pull up, top down. In the driver’s seat was a slender woman, perhaps early thirties, with short, black hair in a casual cut. She was wearing a yellow sundress with spaghetti straps. She parked the sporty-looking convertible near the curb, and stepped out, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head.

The dark-haired woman quickly stepped towards the truck and started talking to the movers. Her face was animated, her gestures expressive. Christie thought she was very pretty. The general build of the dark-haired woman was similar to Christie’s own body; medium sized breasts, slender hips, long legs. The face had a Mediterranean look, slightly dark, with brown wide eyes, a strong nose, and clearly defined cheekbones. White, slightly crooked teeth flashed when she smiled.

I’ll have to go over later and introduce myself, Christie thought. She’s around my age. We can probably have some fun together.

Christie thought about her life here. She had been married for five years to Jim, a mid-range executive at a software company. She loved her husband, and the stock options and bonuses he brought home ensured a comfortable living in the upper-middle class suburban neighborhood. She didn’t need to work, and whatever restless feelings she had could be sublimated in reading and gardening. But sometimes she wished for something a little more, something to provide her with some italics in the text of her days. Something a bit…exciting. Maybe something a little… risky.

Christie realized that it was nearly nine, and she was still in the smoke-colored chemise she had worn last night. Time to get your day going, girl, she thought.

She headed towards the master bedroom and shower, slipping her gown off as she stepped down the thickly carpeted hallway. Nude, she reached in to the large shower stall and turned the water on. Steam billowed out of the enclosure and she stepped into the pounding spray.

She poured some shower gel into her hand and began to soap her chest. The breasts were high and firm, with pronounced nipples in aureolae an inch wide. She always thought her breasts were nice, not too large, not too small. They were usually quite sensitive, and the slippery fingers moving over them quickly raised her nipples to full erection, like little pebbles.

Idly, she cleaned herself, the spray bouncing off the skin. She reached down between her legs. Her pubic hair was closely trimmed, and the lips of her mound were slightly parted to reveal a pink bud. She shivered as her finger slipped between the folds, and stroked her clit. It had been a few days since Jim had fucked her.

She ran her index finger along the lips of her sex, and she felt a wetness that wasn’t water. She bent slightly forward and her finger found the tip of her clitoris. Her hips danced a little, and she whimpered.

She was flowing freely now, the juices coating her finger. Not long now. She moved her hand faster, feeling the building tension in her body. She arched her back and fell against the seat built into the wall of the shower, as the orgasm took her. Her slippery fluids dribbled onto the seat, and she did something she hadn’t done before. She took the liquid-coated finger to her mouth and sucked her own juices, quite unconsciously.

As she sat there, the hot water striking her face, plastering her hair to her head, she realized something with a start. The images in her mind as she came were not of her husband and his hard cock. They were of her new neighbor. The dark-haired woman in the yellow sundress. Her pretty new neighbor.

Christie shook herself and stood up. She finished rinsing the remaining gel, and stepped out to get the fluffy large towel. Where did that come from? She had never had any bisexual or lesbian tendencies. What put that into her head?

She snorted. Come on, girl. You saw the neighbor, she was pretty, and you gave yourself a quick orgasm in the shower. The mind does what it does. Don’t worry about it.

Several hours later, in the warm June sunshine, Christie walked the short distance to the house next door. She had decided to wear a pair of shorts and a sports bra under a tank top. She was barelegged and wore skimpy sandals. Her well-shaped feet looked great after her last pedicure, and her toenails were painted a pastel pink. She carried a bottle of chilled Chablis, and two plastic wine glasses.

Christie rang the doorbell. The movers had left. She waited, and was about to ring it again, when the polished wood of the door swung inward. There was her neighbor, still in the sundress. A fine gleam of perspiration shined on her forehead. She regarded Christie with her dark eyes, a hint of a smile on the unpainted lips.

“Hi, there,” Christie said, smiling. “I’m your next door neighbor, Christie. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Well, thanks. I’m Melissa. Come on in, if you don’t mind the clutter of moving day.”

Melissa opened the door wider, and Christie slipped in past her. As Melissa closed the door, she said, “I wish Bill could be here, but my husband is going to be in Spain for the next few weeks. I had to get here and start the process of moving in, and believe me, it’s a chore.”

They made their way into the living room. Boxes and papers were strewn everywhere. Melissa moved a box off the couch and motioned for Christie to sit down.

Christie said, “I do indeed know what moving in is like, and I thought you’d could use a little break, maybe a glass of wine.” She placed the bottle on the coffee table, and set the plastic glasses on either side.

Melissa’s eyes lit up. “What a wonderful idea! I could definitely do with a few minutes of not unpacking. Let me fetch a corkscrew.”

She moved into the kitchen. Christie regarded the movement of Melissa’s legs and shapely rear under the sundress. It didn’t look like Melissa was wearing any underwear. A slight, barely noticed shiver went through Christie.

Melissa returned with a old-fashioned wooden-handled corkscrew. She sat down beside Christie, and placed the tip of the screw into the cork and started to twist. Melissa’s breasts jiggled slightly as she worked the corkscrew in. Christie saw that the nipples tented the thin yellow fabric. Another shiver.

Over the wine, they talked about themselves and their lives. Christie learned that Melissa had been born in France to an American father and Italian mother. She was married to William, who was an up-and-coming executive with a multi-national. She had lived the past few years in Spain, and her husband had been transferred to the local office near the subdivision.

“It’s a bit of pain being without William, but he had some business he had to take care of in Madrid, so it fell to me to make the arrangements for the move. His company found us this house, and set up the paperwork. But Christie, I tell you, I do miss my husband, especially at night.”

Christie made sympathetic noises. They had finished two glasses of wine each, so she tipped the remains of the bottle into equal shares, and lifted her glass. Melissa did the same.

“Well, anyway,” Christie said, “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“Exactly. New beginnings.”

They clinked glasses, the plastic making a ticking sound. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Christie noticed that their bare knees were lightly touching. She enjoyed the contact. The wine had given her a pleasant buzz.

Christie looked around and said, “Melissa, is there anything I can help you with here? Maybe we can make this a little easier.”

Melissa said, “That’s sweet. Sure. I’ve got a couple of boxes of linens I want to move to the master bedroom. They’re over here.” She indicated the boxes in the nearby dining room.”

They got to their feet, perhaps a little unsteadily. They walked into the dining room, and both reached down for the boxes. They weren’t too heavy, and Melissa hoisted her load to her side, balancing on the hips. Christie balanced her box the same way and they started to move towards the main hall.

Maybe it was the wine. Melissa turned to say something to Christie. The corner of the box caught the wall. As she shifted weight to recover, she fell forward, towards Christie.

Christie heard her new friend utter a sharp yelp. Then Melissa collided with her and they went down. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Christie dropped her box and reached out with her arms to grab Melissa. Melissa’s hands found Christie’s forearms and as they fell she grabbed hold tightly. Christie felt her back hit the soft carpet, and then the sudden weight of Melissa’s body fell onto her full length. Their breasts pancaked against each other. Christie felt the nipples meet and bend. She gasped.

Melissa’s right leg fell to the right of Christie’s left leg. The dress road up on Melissa’s thigh’s, and her left leg neatly slipped between Christie’s parted legs. Thigh brushed against thigh. Christie felt her left thigh hit Melissa’s crotch, and Melissa’s left leg impacted her own mound. It was like an electric shock.

Stunned, they both took a few seconds to recover. Melissa’s body still rested on top of Christie. Melissa let go of Christie’s arms, and looked at her, her eyes swimming briefly. She got to her feet and held out her hand to help Christie up. “Oh, dear God, Christie, are you all right? I’m so sorry, dear. I was so clumsy.”

Christie got to her feet with the help of Melissa’s strong arm. Her breasts still tingled from the impact. “Oh, sweetie, it’s all right. These things happen. I guess we’ll have to watch the wine consumption next time.” She giggled a little.

“Well, at least not drinking before moving boxes.”

They retrieved the scattered linens from the fallen boxes, and carried them to the linen closet near the master bedroom. They worked for the next half-hour putting things away, and Christie reflected on the accidental encounter. Good God, it turned me on. The impact. Her body against mine. Breast to breast. Hip to hip. The feel of her thigh on my pussy.

She managed to put it out of her mind. At five in the afternoon, she bid her new friend goodbye, after securing her promise to come over tomorrow afternoon for a swim.

Over a hastily prepared dinner of breast of chicken, Christie recounted to Jim the meeting with her neighbor. She said that she thought they could become good friends. Jim nodded abstractedly. Christie recognized the symptoms. The office had Jim’s attention, and would likely be on his mind all evening.

After dinner, Jim disappeared into his home office to check e-mail and catch up on paperwork. Christie absently cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. After the short cleanup, she decided to pour herself a cognac. She set the tuner on the stereo system to a classical station, and sat back on the sofa, feet up, sipping the brandy. It evaporated warmly on her tongue. She recalled the events of the day with a fuzzy good feeling. Without conscious thought, her hand drifted to her chest, and she lightly stroked her breasts. The nipples awoke, hardened into points.

She rose from the sofa and ambled into the kitchen with her empty snifter. She washed it by hand and put it away. The kitchen was dark. She could see Melissa’s house across the yard. As she watched, a light went on upstairs, and she saw the dark-haired woman walk in, holding some clothes to put into an unseen closet. Melissa left her sight, then came back in. Christie watched as Melissa paused in the middle of the room. Melissa was not in her sundress anymore. She was wearing a dark red robe. As Christie stood looking up, Melissa undid her robe to adjust it. It was just a flash, but Christie saw the firm, dark-nippled breasts. They bounced just a little as Melissa refolded the robe about herself. She then left the room.

Christie stood there, holding her breath. She thought she had never seen anything as lovely, as beautiful, as that sight in the window.

That night, Christie dreamed. She was sleeping on her back, the covers thrown partly off her body. Her breasts were slightly compressed by the camisole she wore. Her left hand lay across her hips, fingers near the sharply defined cleft in her panties. As she dreamed, the cloth started to darken from moisture.

She dreamed in she was in large bookstore, like the Barnes & Noble near the mall. She was in the stacks, and in her hands was a large book on Greece. She had it open to a painting of nude wrestling men. She was in the store and she was absolutely naked, but that was okay, because they’re weren’t that many people in the store, and the ones that were didn’t look at her.

The painting of the men suddenly became two women, just as naked as she was. One held the other in a tight bear hug. As she watched, the picture started to move, and the women fell to the floor of the arena, and in very slow motion, they rolled around, still tightly hugging, legs intertwined, faces pressed against each other.

Christie felt herself get wet, no, not wet, absolutely dripping. She was beginning to get embarrassed. Someone would notice the spot on the rug. She turned to put the book back on the shelf. After she did so, she was grabbed from behind.

She turned her head to see her husband, his face inches from hers. He was as naked as she was, as the wrestlers in the book. With an sharp cry of desire, she threw her arms around him, and kissed him hard, her tongue slipping into his mouth. She slid her hand down below his waist, and grasped a rigid pole. Whimpering with her need, she pulled him down to the floor, and guided his cock into her. He started to thrust forcefully, and she wrapped her naked legs around his back.

She pulled her head back from the bruising kiss, and was shocked for only a moment to see the face of Melissa, dark wild hair and wide eyes, staring intensely at her. Only a moment, then absolute lust slipped into her. The cock had disappeared, to be replaced with the wet insistent pounding of cunt against cunt, the slippery feel of erect clits sliding together. Melissa pressed her mouth against Christie’s lips. Their tongues explored each other’s mouth. Christie felt her breasts rub against Melissa’s.

Christie felt her back against the floor. Melissa pulled her head away, and said through clenched teeth, her breath hot and moist, “Is this it? Is this what you want? Tell me or lose it!” Christie could smell the unalloyed lust in that heated exhalation.

She was about to gasp YES when the dream started to fade, like a movie ending. Melissa disappeared, and Christie’s eyesstarted to open. It was the middle of the night, and her breasts were swollen, her nipples protruding from the camisole like pencil erasers, and her panties were soaked.

In a voice still drugged with sleep, she whispered, “…yes…yes…oh, sweet God, yes…” Her finger slipped under the crotch of her panties, and she rubbed the swollen labia slowly, her hips undulating. She softly moaned her climax, like a chant to a distant lover.

Part Two – A Swim and Pillow Fight

The next morning was clear and warm. Christie busied herself with minor chores while waiting for the one o’ clock swimming date. Her erotically charged dream of the night before was only a hazy ghost of a memory. As she went about her routine, fragments of the dream would appear for a fraction of a second, and she would twitch, just a little.

She spent nearly thirty minutes deciding what swimsuit to wear. She wanted to be sexy, but she didn’t want to appear sluttish. She had a thong bikini she wore once as a joke, but decided it was just too uncomfortable. She had a black one-piece that fitted her like a second skin, but it seemed too utilitarian. She finally decided on a turquoise two-piece…daring, but not outrageous. The top lifted her breasts nicely, showing a tempting slice of cleavage. The bottom piece was snug around her hips, and the material thin enough to suggest the outline of labia.

Shortly before one, she placed a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, and poured a carafe of chilled orange juice. She thought mimosas would be nice addendum to the heat and swimming. She brought out a couple of towels, some sunscreen, an old, large floppy hat, and some curved Ray-Bans. She placed the summertime accoutrements on a poolside table, and stretched out on a chaise lounge, her lithe body flexing, the muscles and tendons marking sweet territory.

“Christie? You there, sweetie?”

Christie raised her head slightly. She saw Melissa’s face over the tall fence. “Over here, Melissa. Come in through the gate on your right.”

Melissa opened the latch and the redwood gate swung open. Melissa stood there in a dark-blue tankini, the top a stretchy thin material which molded itself to her breasts, the nipples poking out. Below her breasts, the material became sheer, exposing the narrow, nicely formed midriff. Her navel was an outie, Christie saw. The bottoms were very brief, the top skating the edge of her pubic hair, and the weight of her mound dimpling the fabric. She was carrying a large bag.

Melissa walked in on those elegant tanned legs, feet in barely there sandals. She came to sit beside Christie in the other chaise, bending down in a graceful and casual swoop, and lifting her legs onto the lounge with ease and style.

“Darling, this is just perfect! What a lovely pool! And champagne. This is just what I need.”

Christie reached out and touched Melissa’s hand for a second, a quick squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here. That’s a lovely suit!”

Melissa stroked the fabric with the back of her hand. “Thank you kindly. And you look delicious in that little number!”

Christie almost blushed. “That’s sweet of you. Would you like a mimosa to start things off?”

“I’d love one.”

Christie got up to pour the champagne and orange juice into the tall glasses. She floated an orange slice in each glass, cold and bubbly. She handed one to Melissa, they clinked glasses and took a deep sip.

“Ah….” Melissa said. “That’s perfect. She took another drink, then put the glass down on the table. “Christie, would you mind taking this sunscreen and putting it on my back? I did the rest of me before I came over, but I couldn’t do much of the back.” She reached in her bag and pulled out a bottle of lotion.

Christie took the bottle. “Sure, honey. Then you could do my back, deal?”

“Deal.” Melissa turned around and raised the back of her tankini up, exposing the skin to the nape of her neck.

Christie poured a small amount of lotion into her palm, and slowly moved her hand towards Melissa’s naked back. She touched the smooth muscles, and spread the lotion in a spiral motion over the back. Melissa arched her back under Christie’s smooth touch. She made a guttural sound of sybaritic delight.

After she finished, Melissa folded her top down over herself, and then turned to Christie. Christie’s narrow back strap didn’t need undoing. Melissa took the lotion in both hands, and then placed her palms on Christie’s shoulder blades. She moved her hands down in circular patterns, the fingers splayed to spread the lotion. Christie shivered under the touch.

They wiped their hands on their towels. Christie stood up, and walked to the edge of the pool, poised in a diving position. She turned around, grinned, and said, “Last one in makes the next drinks!”

Melissa said, “Is that so?” She smiled to match Christie, and leaped from where she stood just as Christie bent forward to hit the water. It was possibly a tie; their bodies hit the cool water about the same time.

The water felt good after the warm sunshine and chilled mimosas. They splashed around, giggling a little. The water plastered the top of Melissa’s suit to her chest, and the chill brought her nipples to points. Christie tried to look without staring, as they bounced up and down. Her own nipples were equally erect, and the fabric rubbing on them gave her erotic twinges that radiated down her belly to the plump weight of her labia.

Melissa stretched out and swam away from Christie in a strong crawl. She rotated her body into a perfect backstroke. As she swam the length of the pool, Christie admired the athleticism of her beautiful neighbor. The arms windmilled gracefully backwards and the feet kicked evenly. Melissa cut through the water like she was born to it.

But Christie wasn’t so bad herself. She had excelled in swimming in college. She launched herself in parallel course to Melissa, and did a powerful crawl until she was side by side. Melissa twisted around to match Christie’s stroke and they silently fell into a race.

It felt really good to stretch and work the muscles. They swam strongly to the opposite end of the pool, reversed course with powerful legs, and swam with growing effort. Christie was determined to show Melissa that she could keep up.

Two more laps, and they were still neck and neck. At the end of the pool nearest their seats, Melissa stopped swimming, and gasped, “Tie?”

Christie also stopped, and between deep breaths, she said, “Agreed. Wow! That was great, Melissa. I feel so good!”

Melissa nodded, her breathing starting to slow. She held on with one hand to the edge of the pool. “So, who makes the drinks?”

Christie giggled, and said, “I guess I do. Tie goes to the visitor.” She pulled herself out of the pool. She felt her bottoms start to slip down, exposing a shapely cheek. She was about to reach down and pull them up, but decided against it. She wanted a little exposure.

Melissa pulled herself out of the pool, water dripping from her close-fitting suit. Christie paused in the middle of lifting the champagne to watch Melissa’s suit bottom edge ever lower. A dark curl of pubic hair peeked over the edge. Melissa did not reach down to adjust it.

Melissa toweled her hair. She looked around, and said, “That’s a pretty high fence.”

Christie poured the champagne. “Yes. We wanted some privacy when we put in the pool.”

Melissa said, “Well, the reason I mentioned it was that over in Europe, they’re a lot freer in the way they dress for swimming. I mean, I got used to going topless. Since the fence is so high, and they’re aren’t that many people around, would you mind…..?” Melissa’s hands were poised at the bottom of the tankini’s top.

Christie paused for a half a second. She could feel sexual tension hovering. She finally said, “No, go right ahead. In fact, I think I might join you.” Christie reached to the back of her neck and untied the knot. She reached around her, her eyes on Melissa, and undid the back strap. She shrugged her shoulders forward, and the cups of her bikini top fell into her hands.

Melissa pulled her top over her head in a deliberate fashion. The bottom edge of her breasts caught the edge of the material, and then snapped upwards, baring the dark-nippled globes. Her breasts had thick brown nipples, in puffy aureolae half a shade darker than the nipples. Melissa finished pulling her top over her head, the breasts moving a little. She deposited the top on the back of the chaise.

Christie pulled her hands away from her breasts. For some reason, she felt that this was as much a competition as the swimming. Well, she decided, she didn’t have to worry. Melissa’s breasts were beautiful, but her own firm tits could stand their own. Under the ever-present undercurrent of eroticism, she felt the tingle of unspoken conflict. Her breasts stood high, the nipples becoming erect in the breeze.

Melissa accepted the glass from Christie with a warm smile. They sat down, drank and chatted easily about movie, books, and shopping.

Around three, Melissa stood up slowly said, “Well, darling, this has been smashing. But I’ve got some errands to run. Something at the bank, and I have to do a little shopping. I’ve got my clothes in this bag. Could I change in your house?”

Christie also got up. “Sure, sweetie.” She indicated the large French doors off the patio. “This is the way to bedroom. I need to get dressed as well, start thinking about dinner and the like.”

They made their way into the dark chill of the bedroom. The king-size bed was made casually, large blue pillows lying on top of the spread. Melissa paused by the dresser, and peeled her suit briefs from her hips. At the other end of the bed, Christie thought, “Oh, hell, why not” and stripped her own briefs off. Melissa had a curly thatch of hair above the lips of her pussy, but the lips themselves were innocent of hair. They were heavy, darker than the rest of her skin, and the slit revealed the shiny head of her clitoris.

Melissa paused for a second, her briefs folded in her hand. “That was a good race, Christie. We’re going to have to have a rematch.”

Christie smiled, “Anytime, hon. I’ll take you on. It was fun.”

“But I’ll win next time.” Melissa grinned.

“Oh, you think so? We’ll have to see.”

“I guess I’m just competitive by nature,” Melissa said, distractedly.

As Christie turned away, she heard a rustling behind her. The bedclothes were being pulled back. She caught her breath, her breasts moving up and coming to point. She started to turn back to the bed, and a pillow came out of nowhere, swinging to strike her in the midsection, and knocking her to the bed. She was shocked for a second, then yelled, “PILLOW FIGHT!”

It was just like she was a kid again. She twisted around as Melissa swung the pillow to impact strongly on Christie’s rear. The cheeks flattened a little at the impact, and she felt the briefest contact between the cotton and her cunt. She grabbed the other pillow, and did an overhand smash onto Melissa’s back and neck.

Melissa fell onto the bed face forward, her breasts compressing against the mattress. Her handsome read end stuck up in the air. Swinging again, Christie scored a solid smack on Melissa’s butt. Loud peals of laughter rang out as the naked women clubbed each other with the pillows.

Melissa got to her feet on one side of the bed, and Christie stood up on the other side of the bed. They held the pillows like shields in front of them, and then climbed on the mattress and knee-walked towards the center. They pressed the pillows together, and tried to push the other over, their legs moving up and down on the yielding mattress. They pressed, grunted with effort, trying for advantage.

Christie’s strength started to give. She felt herself bend backwards, Melissa coming forward with her pillow. She felt Melissa’s legs on hers, the muscles taut and flexing.
Then she fell backwards with a gasp, and Melissa landed on top of her, two thick pillows between them. Melissa looked down at Christie’s face, her expression unreadable.

Melissa got up, said, “You okay? I don’t know what came over me.”

Christie stretched herself out, hugged the pillow to her body. “Don’t worry. I kind of liked it. I haven’t been in a pillow fight since I was a kid.”

Melissa kneeled on the bed, her legs straddling the pillow. Her eyes got a far-away expression. She said, “Bill and I like to wrestle. It started as a joke, but then it got interesting. We’d roll around on the floor, barely anything on…sweating, straining against each other. And then, I’d be riding him, and he’d be moving against me, and he’d … he would….”

Christie watched Melissa lose herself to erotic memory. Melissa’s nipples hardened, and she started moving her hips on the pillow, her pussy rubbing against the cotton.

Melissa seemed to remember where she was. She looked flustered for a second, got up and quickly stepped into the clothes from her bag. Panties, a short, red pleated skirt, a matching sleeveless red top, loose enough to catch sight of most of a braless breast through the arm opening.

Christie got a robe from her closet, and pulled it about her. As Melissa finished with her sandals, Christie went up to her and kissed her on the cheek. She said, “I had a blast, sweetie. Everything was great. Everything.” She paused for a second, wondering what she was committing herself to. She placed her mouth close to Melissa’s ear, her hand on her shoulder. “And I’d like to wrestle sometime.”

There. She said it. It was now out there, hanging.

Melissa fixed her with a pensive gaze. Then she said, “Okay. Let’s do it. Tomorrow morning at my house. Wear workout clothes.” She brought her mouth to Christie’s cheek, and gave her a light, nuzzling kiss.

===

Christie knew that she needed to be fucked desperately. The erotic tension would drive her mad unless it was relieved. So she made her plans.

When Jim came home, a chilled martini that had only a brief acquaintance with vermouth greeted him. Christie had changed into a loose denim dress with a zipper from throat to hem. The zipper was about down to her navel.

Her husband opened his mouth, started to speak. Christie reached out with her hand and pinched his lips closed. “Shh. Drink your drink. Then you and I are going to have some fun. It’s been far too long, my man. I’m going to fuck you flat.”

Jim was only human. He drank the potent cocktail, his erection starting to poke a hole in his slacks. He placed the glass on the coffee table. Christie grabbed his tie, turned around, and started to lead him back to the bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, Christie turned around and slowly unzipped her dress the rest of the way. It fell open, revealing her naked body, breasts and labia swollen, nipples stiff. She caressed her breasts, dipped her hand to her crotch, and said, “Get undressed.”

Her husband broke all records (and not a few buttons) ripping off his clothes. He stood there, cock poking out of his dark curly hair, a drop of moisture on the tip. She bent down on one knee, and grabbed it firmly in her right hand. She stared up at him, eyes hooded. She slowly extended her tongue and licked the drop from the glans.

His breath was coming in fits. She stood up, and pushed him over on the bed. Still wearing the wide-open dress, she moved forward until her cunt was poised over his straining cock. She looked down at him, and asked, “What do you want? Huh? Can you tell me what you want?” Sheslowly moved the edge of her dripping lips over the tip of his cock.

He said, soundlessly, “You.”

She sat down suddenly, and he was deeply ensconced within her. She reached down, grabbed his hands, and placed them on her breasts. “Squeeze me.” He flexed his fingers, pressed against her breasts, almost roughly. She let loose a cry of delight. She started to bounce up and down on his hard, straining penis.

She rode him, head thrown back, breath coming in deep whoops, while he continued to press and squeeze her breasts. The nipples were at full erection. His thumb flicked them, and she placed her own hands over his, pulling them harder onto her tits.

She flowed freely, the juices shining on his cock as it appeared and disappeared under her rapidly moving hips. She went faster, the muscles inside her vagina clasping and releasing like the grip of hand. The tension came to a peak, and her climax shook her like a seizure. She screamed in pure rough pleasure. The juices squirted from pussy, and puddled around the base of his cock.

As she started to come down from her incredible orgasm, she felt her husband start to twitch. He was close to coming. He grunted his need, his passion. She felt the first burst of semen leap out of his cock. She quickly dismounted him, and grabbed the spurting cock. She bent her face toward his spray, took him into her mouth. She squeezed firmly and moved her hand up and down, pistoning his penis as he came in her mouth. She lifted her head from the cock, and it issued a stream of hot, white fluid that impacted on her lips and chin. She milked him until he was finished.

=====

That night, she slept naked. Her husband slept soundly beside her, and she was happy. She raised her finger to her face, and worked her fingernail over a patch of dried come that she had missed with the washcloth. She drifted to sleep.

She dreamed she was on a horse. She was naked and she felt the powerful muscles of the horses back between legs. It was night and she was outdoors under a brilliant full moon. She and the horse were in some kind of open meadow. The air was warm, and she smelled pleasing outdoor fragrances, and the stronger odor of the magnificent animal she rode.

She looked down towards the other end of the meadow. Under the moonlight, she saw another large stallion, and its rider. It was Melissa, and she was equally as naked.

She knew what she needed to do. She tightened her thighs around the horses back, and kicked with her heels backwards. The horse took off with a quick gallop towards Melissa, who had also spurred her mount into action.

She didn’t need to use her hands. Her legs, powerful in this dream, grasped the horses back firmly as she rode, and she bounced up and down, getting a definite sexual charge from the rubbing.

The horses went faster. Melissa and her horse grew larger as they got close. Christie started to lean towards her right, her hands reaching out, fingers flexing. Melissa did the same. They would meet at high gallop, and this would decide….something.

They got closer and closer, the horses puffing and snorting. The womens’ breasts bounced up and down, the nipples visible in the moonlight.

As the horses passed each other, Melissa and Christie met with outstretched hands and grabbed each other. The impact knocked them off the horses, and they fell to the smooth grass still holding each other in strong grips on their upper arms.

They got to their feet, the horses forgotten as they galloped off in the moonlight. They slammed into each other in a rough embrace, arms going around their backs, tightening. They were breast to breast, belly to belly, crotch to crotch. Melissa pulled her face back, and placed her strong hands on either side of Christie’s face. She panted a couple of times, and said, “Is this what you want? Is this what you need? Tell me!”

Christie moved her head forward violently, slamming her mouth against Melissa’s. She stuck her tongue deep into Melissa’s mouth, poking it in like a pink cock, fucking her mouth with it. She pulled back, and said, “What do you think, my sweet bitch?”

As they started to fall to the ground in arm-locked sexual battle, a bell sounded loudly. Christie looked up said, “What’s that?”

Melissa said, “It’s the end of the first round. Round two coming up.”

Christie awoke with a start. Daylight leaked into the room from behind the thick curtains. Her breasts ached. And she had left a puddle on the bedsheet.

Part Three – More Than a Match

Under the hot pounding spray of her shower, Christie washed away the remnants of the previous night’s debauchery. She soaped herself thoroughly, rinsed her body, and stepped out of the shower stall. As she dried herself, she wondered what to wear for the wrestling match.

She had quit worrying about the implications of the competition and contact with Melissa. She knew that she had to explore this aspect of her sexuality with her sensual dark-haired neighbor, to see where it took her. After she came to this decision, she felt a profound relief. Whatever happened today would happen, and she would accept it.

This wasn’t to say she wasn’t a little nervous. Melissa was in superb shape, and was probably stronger than her. But the thought of testing her body against Melissa, to be in close and intimate struggle, turned her on like nothing had before. The morning felt electrically alive, every sense tuned to perfect awareness.

She pawed through her dresser drawer, and found a gray cotton/Spandex pair of athletic boxer-briefs. She stepped into them, the smooth fabric fitting snugly against her belly. The legs of the briefs were tight against the upper thigh. Her vulva was outlined by the crotch, the slit winking as she flexed her legs.

She found a matching crop-top in the other drawer. She pulled this over her shoulders and slid the edge over the top of her breasts, snagging her nipples briefly before it settled comfortably into place.

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. She had debated wearing some old tennis shorts over the briefs, but decided that this wasn’t necessary. She had seen women at the gym wearing less than this. She turned her body and regarded the reflection approvingly. Not bad, she thought. Slender, but not anorexic. Fit, but not muscle bound. She stretched her arms over her head. Her breasts moved up higher and she inhaled deeply, the nipples rubbing pleasantly on the fabric. She flicked a lock of blonde hair from her eyes, and winked at herself. She laughed a little, twitched one leg inward a bit. She was almost ready.

She slipped her feet into a pair of old flip-flops, and grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet.

It was right at ten o’clock when she came up the Melissa’s front door. There was a note scrawled on a piece of paper and slipped into the jamb. Christie pulled it loose and moved into the sunlight. It said, “The door’s open, sweetie. Come on in and come upstairs to the game room. Ready to rumble, baby?” It was signed with a large, sassy “M”.

Christie grinned and opened the door. She closed it behind her and went into the coolness of air conditioning set low. She heard some light music coming from upstairs. She walked through the high-ceilinged foyer into the family room. Curtains were drawn and the room was dark after the bright daylight outside. She went to the spiral staircase and started to climb.

Melissa poked her head over the railing of the game room. She said, “Hey, neighbor! Come on up.”

Christie walked up and came into the game room. It was large, about 25 by 30 feet. Melissa had arranged several large gray vinyl pads in the center of the room. An overhead light was shining brightly, and there was a long padded window bench at the far end. Melissa stood there, one foot upon the bench, a towel folded and draped around her neck. She wore a pair of high-cut red shorts, snug against her bottom and a white sleeveless T-shirt that hugged her breasts and dipped in a provocative V. She had no bra, and the brown nipples were half-visible behind the cotton. Christie felt the now familiar sexual shiver run through her frame.

Melissa said, “You look good, babe. Take your shoes off and come on over here.”

Christie slipped off the flip-flops and walked onto the mat. The plastic was cool against the soles of her feet. She came to Melissa and leaned forward. They kissed each other lightly on the cheeks.

Christie said, “You sure have it cool in here.”

Melissa replied, “Don’t worry. You’re going to feel quite warm soon enough.” She grinned, and reached into a nearby cooler for a liter bottle of mineral water. She bent her head backward, lifted the bottle to her lips, and drank deeply. She offered it to Christie.

Christie took a long drink, her throat working, and handled the bottle back.

Melissa said, “We should do some stretching and warm-up exercises first.”

They both got on the pads and started to bend and flex the long muscles in their taut bodies. Christie bent from the waist and brought her fingers down to her pretty feet, then straightened herself and bent backwards until she was an upside down arch, her fingers splayed on the vinyl. Her briefs pulled pleasantly along her inner thighs and the crop-top stretched to reveal the musculature of her rib cage. She lowered herself to the mat, and rolled into a sitting position.

Melissa said, “Very impressive. Can you do this?” She stood straight up, and bent forward sharply at the waist. She grabbed her ankles and looked at Christie from between her legs. She was perfectly folded, and she fell onto her back still grasping her ankles, her legs extending to either side of her head. The crotch of her shorts was pulled sharply against her mound, and Christie got a flash of dark lips through the leg opening.

Christie admired her limberness. “Wow. I don’t think I’m even going to try.” She rose to her feet, and continued her warm up.

After several minutes, Melissa sat down and motioned for Christie to sit across from her. They crossed their legs, and Melissa took one of Christie’s hands in her own. She said, “Okay, we’re going to wrestle here, sweetie, and just to be safe, there are a few rules.”

Christie nodded solemnly. She enjoyed having her hand rest in Melissa’s.

“Okay, it’s pretty simple. We’ll wrestle to submission. That means you or I say ‘I give’ and we immediately break the hold. Or you can slap the mat. There’s no biting -“

Christie said, shocked, “But I’d never-“

Melissa shook her head, “Things can get heated in a match. One can get carried away. So we mention it up front. Two, no scratching.” She looked at Christie’s hands. “Good, I see your nails are short. This isn’t for blood. Three, no punching. We don’t need bruises. Open handed or cupped hand slaps are okay.” She took her own hand, cupped it, and slapped it loudly against her stomach. “Like that.”

Christie said, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you? You’re good at it. You’re going to wipe the floor with me.” She furrowed her brow, looking a little worried.

Melissa laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, kiddo. The only way to lose is not to try. The only way to learn is to do it. You’ll love it.”

They stood up. Melissa went over to a wall control, punched in a selection. Music started to fill the room. She reached for a nearby dimmer switch. The light became lower.

Christie recognized it. Wagner – The Ride of the Valkyries. She laughed loudly. Melissa had a wonderful sense of the absurd. She remembered what Twain said: Wagner’s music isn’t as bad it sounds.

Melissa said in low-pitched perfect imitation of Robert Duvall from Apocalypse Now, “I love the smell of wrestling in the morning. It smells like…victory.”

Christie almost fell to the floor laughing. “Wonderful!”

The laughter faded, and Melissa said, “Are you ready?”

Christie leaned forward, hands on her hips. “Born ready,” she said.

They started to circle each other on the mat, slightly crouching, as the ominous sounds of Wagner enveloped them. They extended their arms, hands and fingers flexing, imagining the feel of the other’s body. Sunlight came into the room through the narrow blinds, making a chiaroscuro pattern on the slowly circling women.

Melissa moved forward fast, and grabbed Christie’s shoulders. Christie reached out with her own hands, and gripped Melissa’s shoulders tightly. First contact. They maneuvered around each other, pushing and pulling, testing strength. Then Melissa extended her leg behind Christie’s ankle, and pushed hard.

Christie fell down, her butt hitting the mat with a thud. Melissa pressed her advantage and dived down against Christie, their breasts sliding together and legs becoming intertwined. Christie pushed out, shoulder muscles straining, grunting. She got one arm around Melissa’s waist and twisted, and it now it was Melissa on the bottom.

Christie threw herself full length on top of Melissa, and felt the delicious contact of belly, tits and crotch. She extended her hands and briefly pinned the dark-haired girl. Melissa swung her legs around and wrapped them around Christie’s abdomen and locked them behind her, twisting at the same time so that Christie went on her side and Melissa rotated around to put the blonde in a body scissors. She squeezed.

Christie felt the pressure growing on her stomach, and tried to break the hold with her hands. She panted, strained harder, and groaned. She couldn’t break it. She slapped the mat.

Immediately Melissa opened her legs and Christie rolled out, coming to rest on her back, one knee bent upward, her breasts rising and falling with deep breaths.

Melissa caught her breath, said, “Not bad, not bad at all. How do you feel?”

Christie raised her hand to her brow and wiped it. “Like a lump of dough. God! That was intense!”

“That’s the best part of it. The intensity.”

Melissa sat up, raised herself to her knees. Christie did the same. Their breathing started to lessen. They came closer, hands at their sides, until they were just inches apart.

Simultaneously, they threw their arms around each other in a tight bear hug, and fell to the mat, rolling. Christie’s head was tucked into Melissa’s shoulder as they rolled on the mat, swapping turns on the bottom. Melissa’s hands were tight around her back, and their breasts were pressed tightly together. Their nipples were fully erect. Melissa’s unencumbered tits moved around a little freer than Christie’s breasts in her tight crop-top. She could feel the hard points of Melissa’s thick nipples dig into her own flesh, so she moved her chest until her own nipples slid along the top of Melissa’s globes. They both gasped, and made short cries of pleasure/pain.

Christie’s crotch felt the rolling friction of Melissa’s through the briefs and shorts. She felt her juices start to come. As they grappled, neither woman made any sustained effort to break the hold. Instead, they wrapped their arms tighter around each other’s straining bodies, trying to push themselves ever closer together. Their hips started an involuntary dance, raising an inch, then pressing together, their pussies seeking each other. Melissa pulled her head back and stared at Christie, breath coming hot and moist from her mouth. Her eyes started to glaze as the swiveling hip dance increased in intensity.

Just when Christie thought she wouldn’t be able to stand it anymore, that she was going to have an earthshaking orgasm, Melissa cried out, and rolled herself away.

Christie lay back and watched as Melissa got unsteadily to her feet. The blonde woman was still in the heat of the moment, and her hips rose and fell. The crotch of her briefs was wet and semi-transparent. The lips of her cunt were open, and the soaked cotton fabric folded a little inside.

Christie groaned and rose to her feet, and walked over to where Melissa was standing, near the window bench. Her back was to Christie, and her head was bowed.

Christie reached out with both hands and placed them lightly on Melissa’s shoulders. Melissa turned around to look at her.

Melissa said softly, “Is this what you want? Tell me now, Christie.” She placed her hands on Christie’s hips.

By way of answer, Christie leaned forward as if to kiss her on the cheek. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue and lazily licked her neighbor from the curve of her cheek to her slightly parted lips. She pressed her mouth against Melissa’s gently, and kissed her wetly. She pulled back and said softly, “Yes. Oh, yes. I want you.”

Melissa suddenly wrapped her arms around Christie, and kissed her back, mouth open, tongue questing. She then pulled back and picked up the water bottle. She took a long drink, and then held the bottle for Christie as she swallowed gratefully. Melissa held the bottle up, turned it over. The remaining water splashed over their heads and onto their tops, saturating the cloth.

Melissa said, “Then we’d better get out of these wet things.”

Part Four – The Dream Made Flesh

Christie slowly stepped back. The cool water had molded the crop-top to her breasts, and her nipples strained at the fabric. She saw that Melissa’s T-shirt was equally wet, the breasts jutting out, and dark nipples at attention.

They both reached for their tops. Christie pulled hers over her head, dropped it to the floor, and her globes bounced free. She rubbed them with the palms of her hands, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the feeling, the cool air making her nipples stiff and acutely sensitive.

Melissa peeled of her shirt and dropped it on the bench. She looked down at her darker-hued tits, and twirled the large nipples with her thumb and forefinger of each hand. She made a low sighing sound.

Christie moved her hands to her hips, and quickly skinned the briefs down her legs, kicked them aside, and stood up. Her vulva was wet and red from sexual effort. She kept her eye on Melissa as her neighbor swiftly pulled down her shorts and nudged them aside with her shapely feet. Melissa’s pussy had a matted moist thatch of dark hair over the lips, which were slightly parted and speckled with moisture.

They stood there, nude before each other, awaiting the next move with anticipatory pleasure. Christie took a moment to drink in the sight of this beautiful woman standing there, with wet skin and perfect breasts, and deeply sniffed the air. She smelled the tangy scent of sweaty exercise, and the deeper musk odor of sexual heat. It nearly made her swoon.

Melissa looked her blonde neighbor up and down, from the tips of her toes to the breath-catching joining of pelvis and thigh, up to the pert, supple breasts, and the sweet, sweet face.

Melissa tilted her head, and said, “Sweetheart, I’m going to fuck you until you cry.”

Christie slipped her finger down to her vagina, slid it between the folds and collected a film of juice on it. She reached out and slowly wiped it on Melissa’s upper lip. She said, “And I will fuck you until you beg for my tender mercy.”

Melissa grabbed the hand and sucked the moist finger into her mouth, getting every drop of juice. She dropped the hand and moved towards Christie. She grabbed the blonde’s upper arms tightly and marched her backwards until Christie’s back was against the wall.

Christie allowed herself to be pushed back until she felt the rough surface of the wallboard against her back. Then she had no time to think because Melissa’s mouth was on hers, hard and wet, tongue insistent and probing. Melissa’s leg was sliding upward to her crotch, rubbing her pussy. Their breasts were squeezed together, pebbly nipples meeting. Melissa’s thigh kept pushing upward, and her juices were leaking around it. Christie started to moan with arousal and need.

Christie moved her legs behind Melissa’s. She pushed with her hands and Melissa went over backwards onto the mat with a cry. Christie followed her down, and snaked her hand between Melissa’s open legs and felt two fingers plunge into the vagina. Melissa arched her back and whooped with erotic delight. Christie worked her hand in and out, and Melissa gushed. Christie found she could work a third finger in. Melissa’s hips started heaving, and she rolled her head from side to side, eyes shut tight.

Christie saw what was happening, and she wondered if she could do it. She folded her four fingers and thumb together and started to push. Melissa’s eyes snapped open and she saw between her legs when Christie made the final shove and her fist was deep inside her pussy.

“OH DEAR GOD!” she howled. “OH, GOD!” She screamed her orgasm, and her vagina contracted in strong waves around Christie’s hand, liquid pouring out, her hips bouncing strongly on the mat. She felt the tears run down her cheeks as the bliss radiated out from her pelvis in peaks and troughs.

Melissa moved backwards and Christie’s hand, slick with fluid, popped out. Christie watched with a smile, her own breath fast and deep.

Melissa looked at her. She panted, “You got lucky….oh, you got lucky. Just wait…wait.”

Christie waited. After a few minutes they got to their feet. Melissa seemed to get her second wind.

They started to circle each other. Melissa feinted to the right, then moved quickly left. It got Christie unaware, and Melissa grabbed her and threw her down. Melissa dropped down and sat on Christie’s stomach. She reached out with her hands and placed them on Christie’s breasts. She bent forward. Christie reached up and placed the palms of her hands on Melissa’s tits. Melissa leaned with her weight, her hands pressing, squeezing the flesh, as she felt her own fleshy globes flatten.

Christie grunted. The pressure on her breasts was higher than anything she had felt before. It shot waves of pleasure and pain through her body. She worked her fingers, digging into Melissa’s tits.

Melissa suddenly removed her hands from Christie’s chest, and knocked Christie’s hands from their own target. She moved down and her tits pancaked against Christie’s, the nipples poking the tender flesh. Melissa moved her lips down to Christie’s ear, and hissed, “You ain’t gonna believe what happens next, babycakes.”

Melissa stood up quickly. Before Christie could rise, Melissa turned around, bent down and grabbed Christie’s legs. Christie felt her legs go up in the air until Melissa could work her strong arms around Christie’s middle. Then she was bodily lifted up, until she was upside down, her crotch right at Melissa’s face, and her upside down head staring at the pussy she had ravaged with her fist moments before.

How the hell did this happen? Before she could ponder the physics of the matter, she was startled by the sheer thrill of bliss that worked through her. Melissa was licking her pussy, great wet licks, up and down the slit, the tip of the tongue finding the hard little clitoris.

Upside down, Christie started to moan. Melissa knew how to give head in any position. She felt her body start to twitch as Melissa’s tongue worked into her vagina, her mouth open and swallowing the copious flow that issued from the hot opening.

Christie felt the orgasm approaching, like a wave starting to break on shore. A large wave. “Ahhh—uhhhhh-Oh, you bitch, you bitch, you bitch, you sweet, sweet bitch! Suck meeee!”

Melissa obliged. Her tongue concentrated on Christie’s stiff clit, stroking the wet pearl. She felt her Christie stiffen, and then her hips moved, and Christie bellowed her climax, waves of wanton pleasure coursing through her upside down body.

Melissa bent her legs and let Christie’s head gently to the mat. As she laid her out, she moved backwards until her cunt was placed softly on Christie’s mouth. Melissa let out a gutteral sigh as she wiped her pussy against that face.

Christie inhaled the sweet sexual girl scent, and licked the pussy lazily. Melissa leaned down and brought her lips down to the mound that the she just so thoroughly ravished. They maintained a slow sixty-nine, gentle until the cunt honey began to flow.

The quiet orgasm hit them both at the same time. Tears leaked from Christie’s eyes, as Melissa’s fluids drained into her mouth.

After a few minutes they sat up. They knew it wasn’t over.

They moved forward, legs spread, their hands behind them, scuttling like crabs. They came into position, their legs wide open, the labia winking, then backed up, and circled, still in the crablike motion.

Christie and Melissa moved a little closer together. They each took a deep breath, pressed their hands outward, and their pelvises shot forward and slammed into each other. Again they did this, their swollen mounds meeting with wet smacks. Their fluids made little puddles on the vinyl mats.

Ten, fifteen, twenty times their pussies collided. Melissa and Christie hissed and groaned with pulsating sensation at each contact.

The next time, they didn’t back up. They joined their pussies together, and grabbed each other around the back. They worked the wet, reddened vulvas against each other, still sitting up, legs crossed and twined around their backs. Their eyes closed as they felt their clits come into intimate contact, sending undulations of absolute bliss through their bodies.

Melissa groaned, and pushed Christie down. Christie tried to get back up, but Melissa quickly pinned her, hands to shoulders. Melissa spread her legs, and mounted Christie, her cunt rubbing Christie’s. Christie humped her hips upward, sending her mound sliding against Melissa’s. Melissa leaned forward, and their tits met, nipples touching, stiffening. Melissa’s mouth opened and she kissed Christie roughly, stabbing her tongue down. Christie fought, her tongue poking up, meeting Christie’s in a pink, wet duel.

Their hips started to move faster, the pussies met with each jerk of the hips, and the liquid was pouring out their sweet holes ever faster. Harder still they humped each other, their breathing getting faster. They found voice, softly at first, then louder, “…yes…yes…yes…yes..yes.yes..YES! YES!”

It was approaching, like a storm, like the sweeping beam of the lighthouse that warns against the storm. Closer, closer, their hearts beating in twain, their cunts fucking each other. The clits met, and stabbed at each other with exquisite sensitivity, they fucked each other with their clits, or it seemed like that.

They each gripped the other’s shoulders in viselike hands, and both screamed, “Oh…Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

They came. They came in great radiant floods of agonizing joy, the consuming lust being spent in the pounding flesh and spurting juices. They came until they could come no more.

They lay there for what seemed like hours, aftershocks of delight hitting them again and again.

Melissa rolled off Christie and onto her back. Christie turned so that she could rest in Melissa’s arms. As she lay there, her lips nuzzling Melissa’s cheek, she whispered endearments.

“…bitch…,” she said softly.

Melissa stroked her back, and said, with equal softness, “…cunt…”.

“…whore…,” Christie whispered.

“…slut…,” Melissa breathed.

“I love you.”

“I adore you.”

The End

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