Chapter 01: Meeting Vanessa
Jack and Vanessa always called us their “vanilla” friends, which was kind of an inside joke since we were both African-American. She showed me what she wrote in Literotica and on Lush, and I thought it was cool that she did it in honor of Jack. She agreed to publish it under her “v22omk” identity, so that our stories could be connected. So here it is.
I came into her tale in Chapter 5 (Lush version), although I had known “Jeannie” for some time. That day in the bathroom of Jack and Siller’s suite, when I discovered the whip marks Jack had put on her legs, I was hot! When she tried to explain, I was like, whatever girl. I know about guys hitting girls, I grew up in that scene. The girl can excuse it however she wants to, it’s still a guy hitting a girl. I was ready to give Jack what for, right then and there. But she made it clear she was a party to it — she specifically said it was consensual — so I throttled back a little. I still made her take my number, and I told her I would be watching.
The crazy thing was, Silly (my alleged boyfriend) couldn’t shut up about her after he had seen her earlier in the dorm. He went on and on about how much she had changed, and how good she looked. My boy Silly (his name is Sylvester, he likes to be called Siller, “rhymes with killer” he says all the time, so I call him “Silly” just to tick him off) is kind of dense sometimes, but eventual-fucking-ly he realized my temperature was rising. I have a fuse, but not a very long one.
“Look, babe, I’m just sayin’ she really changed. She was always sweet and nice, but there is something goin’ on between those two that has really heated her up.”
“Yeah Silly, you wanna try drinkin’ some white milk out of blondie’s bowl, you just go right ahead.” I waved my fist in front of his eyes.
He laughed. “Ah come on, Nikki, you know it ain’t like that! I’m jus’ describing the environment, you know what I’m sayin’, being observant and all. You gotta admit, those were some killer heels she had on. Those would look good on you, girl!”
I had to admit, he was right about that. They were killer heels, and I would have to find out where she got them…
To be fair, well, Siller had it right about Jeannie, too. She was sweet, and nice, and about as color-blind as you could expect from a white G.R.I.T.S. (that’s ‘girl raised in the South’ to you uninitiated). She was also really cute, if not stunningly gorgeous. And something had changed about Jeannie since I had last seen her. She had a…kind of heat about her.
I had poked Siller in the ribs because he was noticing her a little too much back in the dorm room. But when she looked at me…she seemed to be looking at me in a sexy way, almost a “lez be friends” look. I had never even thought of doing a girl, but suddenly it was in my head. Whoa!
But Siller wasn’t done. He was dropping me off at my apartment before going back to the room he shared with Jack, since classes started early on Monday. He walked me up to the door, but I could see he still had something on his mind. Something that made his shorts stick out, I mean.
“Hey babe, you know I’m only interested in chocolate milk, and only from your bowl, know what I’m sayin’? Hows about givin’ me a little taste?”
Well, I had always said, it doesn’t matter where you get your appetite, as long as you eat at home. With this charming invitation in my ear, we waltzed into the apartment, already in a lip-lock, Siller kicking the door closed with his foot. We shed clothes like snakes shedding skin, leaving a trail of socks and shorts and jeans and panties all the way to the bedroom. Finally careening into the bed, I pulled his t-shirt off, revealing his smooth and muscular ebony torso.
Siller was darker than I was, but we made a nice two-tone pair when we tangled in the sack. I one-handed his stiff cock out of his remaining garment and stroked it, tip to base, loving the velvety feel. Siller was content to lean back and let me take charge for the moment, so I did. I scooted down in the bed and began to lick his balls and shaft, concentrating on that spot underneath the head. Finally, I opened my mouth and sank it gradually onto his cock. He slipped his hands into my curls and began to guide my mouth, the tightness of his grip increasing as I worked my lips up and down.
Then he eased up with his hands, stroking my hair lightly and said, “Baby, that’s so good, but I meant what I said about wanting to drink from your bowl…”
Although I dearly loved sucking his big meat, I was more than happy to oblige his request. We traded positions in the bed, and Siller began to demonstrate his “bowl” -licking prowess. The boy did know how to tongue a girl’s snatch. He parted my pubic curls and licked and sucked on the outer lips and then gave my little man in the boat a little motor-boating treatment with his tongue which drove me wild! I could feel his short beard scratching lightly around my tender flesh and that just added to the fun.
An unsought thought popped into my head for just a second…what would it feel like to have a girl doing that? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! But I pushed it away and got my unruly brain back on track as he worked that little man without mercy.
Soon I was begging him to plant his seed, and like a gentleman, he complied with my request. He rose up over me and slipped my t-shirt off and lifted my boobs out of my sports bra. He gave those brown babies some of the same attention he had done for my puss, and once the nipples had stiffened up nicely, he slid that big dick of his deep into my girly garden while driving his tongue down my throat.
I tasted myself on his lips and that merely increased my passion. He rode me like he was breaking a wild pony (I was bucking pretty hard!) and I wrapped my legs around his thighs. I could feel his nuts bouncing against my pussy when he slammed into me. He drew back and worked his stiff cock in and out of me until I was screaming for release. Pretty soon both of us were going over the edge and I could feel the hot jets of cum pumping out of his dick and splashing my insides.
We lay there, exhausted, for just a few minutes. Soon Siller packed away his weapon of choice and headed off to the dorm, giving me one last lingering kiss before he did so.
I lay there for a minute or two, wondering where that weird unasked-for thought had come from. And then I remembered…Jeannie’s long look.
Besides being curious about that aspect, I was genuinely interested in getting to know both Jack and Jeannie a little better. Siller and Jack were rapidly becoming tight. Jack’s previous roommate, Mick, the guy that had actually known Jeannie in high school and had introduced her to Jack, had dropped out of school and joined the Air Force during the summer.
Siller transferred from a community college in New York to Jack’s well-known southern engineering school, and he told me he had been a little nervous about who he would get as a roommate. Jack was also studying engineering, and the two had hit it off famously. Jeannie already had Jack’s undivided attention when we met.
Jack had another close (female) friend at school, DeeDee, who was also really sweet, but I didn’t like being around her boyfriend, Rick. He didn’t seem to like Siller and I very much, and the feeling was mutual. I had a funny feeling that something unusual was going on between Rick and DeeDee, but it was only much later that I found out what.
I had heard through the grapevine that Jack and Jeannie had had a very public falling out on Friday night, an argument that somehow involved Rick and DeeDee. The way I heard it, Rick said something to Jeannie and she absolutely ripped Jack a new one, stomping away from him and no-shit pulling the engagement ring off of her finger. DeeDee had talked intensely to her for a few minutes, and there had been some arguing there, too.
But in the end Jack had proposed again — down on one knee even — in the Student Union. And Jeannie had said yes…again.
All that had happened just two days prior to her showing up in the suite with welts all over the front of her thighs, welts that she inadvertently showed me in the bathroom when she was adjusting her skirt after going to the toilet. I had also seen that her boobs were bare underneath her white blouse, but she was wearing something, a bra or top, that lifted them up but left the nipples exposed. I’d also noticed (along with the whip marks) that she was wearing garter stockings. Curiouser and curiouser.
So, imagine my surprise when Jeannie called me up the next week to talk. As you know from her story, this was all happening in the mid-80’s. Long distance calls cost a lot in those days, so long talks were out of the question. But it was clear Jeannie appreciated my concern, and also wanted to get to know me a little better. She could see Siller and Jack really liked each other, and Siller and I had been a “thing” almost since the day he set foot on campus at the beginning of the semester. Plus, we were both English majors — she was Lit, I was Ed.
It turned out that my hometown — a small rural community — was just about dead even between her school and her home city. So we came up with a plan to spend a weekend together. We’d spend Friday night at her house, meet her folks, and then she would spend Saturday night at my house and meet my mother.
Well, I don’t know if she “warned” her folks or not, but they were about as nice to me as you could have asked for, and we had a lot of fun. I grew up fishing, so once that became known, her dad and I had a lot to talk about. Friday night we played some board games with her folks and then pretty much crashed.
Now there was a strange moment that night, in her bedroom. It seemed to me like she didn’t mind if I saw her naked. I mean, we’re both girls, so no big deal, but I mean usually girls don’t display themselves in the altogether to one another.
But Jeannie, she was almost proud of the fading marks made by a belt or whip or something (which I saw were front and back, although the most recent seemed to be on her butt, legs, and breasts). She also didn’t hide the fact that she was shaved “down there.”
She didn’t repeat the “lez be friends” look I thought (imagined?) I saw in the dorm room. But I remembered the unbidden notion that had entered my mind while Siller was working out on my puss. And I wondered…
We talked about our relationships that night. I told her how I believed I might have really found something good with Siller, and that despite his smack talk, he was really considerate and kind to me.
Jeannie opened up about her love affair with Jack, and explained about the Dominant/submissive relationship and a little bit about what that meant. But what really blew my mind was the explanation of what the big argument had been about.
Jack had let Rick fuck her while she was blindfolded and tied up and then lied to her about it! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I was ready to frickin’ call him right then and there to give him a piece of my mind. I think I actually got a little rowdy and she was afraid her parents would hear.
Suddenly she was on the bed next to me, practically begging me to calm down. I guess I went on and on in my hot-burning-fuse kind of way, and the next thing I knew, she was crying. I put my arms around her and held her, not really knowing what to do. Finally, she lifted her face to me and spoke.
“You said I could trust you,” she said through her tears, “and so I did.”
That shook me, and did shut me up. I had promised her, that day in the dorm bathroom, that her confidences would be safe with me.
“Nicole, I know you have to see this through your own filters, based on where you’re coming from, and that’s OK. But you’ve got to realize, I want this, I’m happy, I’m trying to explain myself. I know it’s totally crazy for you. I’m telling you this because I want you as a friend. But I trusted you, and now you’ve got to trust that I know my own heart.”
I looked down at her. She was soft, and seemed fragile, but there was steel underneath. Whether or not she knew her own heart, that was for her to decide. She knew her own mind, I was getting that message Lima Charlie, as my big brother would say…Army talk for “loud and clear.”
There was another thing going on…the heat from her skin was heating mine up too. I could smell her, so close, her blonde hair drifting over my darker-colored arm. That momentary look — back in the dorm room — came suddenly back into my mind. The thought that had come to me while Siller was licking my puss…yeah, that came back too.
She smiled at me, and without warning, kissed me very lightly on the lips.
“Thanks for being here, Nicole. Thanks for listening. Thanks for not judging.”
I held her a moment longer, all of a sudden not wanting to let her go. But let her go I did.
The twin bed was comfortable, but it was more difficult than I had expected to get to sleep that night, with her just across the room, and the touch of her soft lips still on mine…
******
Saturday we went out touring the city. Since it was getting cooler, I wore jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt, and wedges. She wore a light jacket, blouse, skirt and heels, although just 4-inch ones, not the amazing heels she had on at Jack’s and Siller’s room. I had mentioned along the way that Siller and I really liked the ‘killer’ heels. She smiled and offered to show me where she had gotten them. I love shopping (what girl doesn’t?), so I was down with that.
I wasn’t really ready for Visions in Lace, however. It was fancier than the clothing stores I shopped in, and seemed focused, mainly, on lingerie and wedding stuff. Jeannie told me the heels had come from here, although I didn’t see a shoe section. Jeannie told me about the owner, Marguerite, and that she was originally from East Germany.
It was clear Jeannie was known there, because Marguerite, a beautiful, tall, dark-haired older woman with pale skin, came directly up to her when we walked in. When she walked up, she gave Jeannie a long look, a look that you could have lit a fucking cigarette from, it was so hot. And it was clearly returned by Jeannie. What the hell?
“My beautiful Vanessa, so nice to see you again. And who is your lovely companion?”
“Marguerite, I would like you to meet my friend Nicole. She’s particularly interested in the black heels I got from you. She might like to look around at some of the other things too….”
Marguerite clasped my hand warmly. Marguerite definitely had a cool German accent, but I was still trying to get my head around the fiery look she and ‘Vanessa’ had exchanged. Vanessa? Again, WTF?
“So nice to meet you, Nicole. I am so pleased Vanessa brought you today. I hope you see something you like! We don’t actually have a shoe section in the store, but I keep a few pair in stock for special customers. Come on back to the dressing area and let me take some measurements.”
While we were walking back to the rear of the store, I asked Jeannie, “Vanessa?”
Jeannie gave me a conspiratorial smile, “It’s a pet name Jack uses for me. Marguerite knows both, but I guess she just likes ‘Vanessa.'”
I knew what a pet name was, usually something like ‘honeybunch’ or ‘babygirl’ or something like that. But ‘Vanessa?’ That was a new one.
Another thought occurred to me. “Jeannie, this looks like an expensive place. I hate to have Marguerite spend a lot of time, only to discover the shoes cost more than I can spend.”
Jeannie replied, “Don’t worry about it. If they’re too expensive, she’ll understand. But she’s pretty flexible.”
I gave her a look at that. I was beginning to wonder what “flexible” meant in this context. Hmmm.
In the dressing area, Marguerite personally measured my feet. And my waist. And my bust. And…and…and…it went on and on.
While she was doing it, she explained herself in precise but accented English. “Nicole, I know this seems excessive for just a pair of shoes, but when a new potential customer comes in, I like to take a full set of measurements so that I can be ready if she needs something in particular later on, or perhaps even needs custom work. Who knows, I might be fortunate enough to gain her business for the long term.
“And frankly,” she continued, “I don’t have a large black clientele. I would like to expand my business to women of color. If I can help you, and impress you with the quality of my offerings and service, that would be the best possible advertisement for me. So, I am doubly glad Vanessa brought you today, Nicole. I’m always glad to see Vanessa and any of her friends. And I hope you will become a customer.”
Well, that was about as plain-spoken as you would want to hear, and I actually appreciated her directness. I liked this lady already. Now for the hot looks….
“Now, to the shoes. Let me bring out some examples that I think will fit, and maybe a few that won’t, so you can see the styles. I can always order a size if I don’t have it available.”
Marguerite brought out several shoe boxes and laid them out. She had a pair like the ones I had seen Jeannie wear that night at the dorm, the black patent high platform closed-toe shoes, as well as similar shoes in black leather, white patent and white leather, some black strappy platform sandals, some brown ankle boots, some peep-toe heels and a pair of black patent pointed-toe pumps. All of the shoes had what I would call ‘stiletto’ heels, very narrow and tall. All the heels looked like they were at least five inches tall, the platform ones were even taller.
“Nicole, do you see anything you like?” Marguerite queried.
“I actually like the ones Jean…I mean Vanessa has,” pointing at the first pair she had brought out, “but I also like the pumps. They look really classy.”
“Well, it turns out we don’t have the black platforms in your size right now, but we do have the pumps. Would you like to try them on?”
“Yes, please. Do you have some footies, or something?”
“I have something I think you will like better.” Marguerite reached into a box and came out with what I first thought were opaque garter stockings. “These are thigh-high stockings. They have an elastic band at the top that keeps them up without garters. Put these on in the dressing room, and you can get a better idea of how the shoes will fit — and how they will look. You have very lovely, slender legs so they should really fit you well and look very nice. I think you may like to show off your legs in shorter skirts, so this color will give you a very finished look. Much better than with the jeans.”
It was funny, I had actually heard other black women recommending opaque hose for wear with shorter skirts. This Marguerite knew her stuff!
And so I found myself in my t-shirt and bikini panties and with thigh-high stockings on my legs — and hosiery was something I actually didn’t wear very often. Marguerite was right — they fit great and looked even better, particularly when I got the heels on and walked onto the mirrored stage. Siller would be drooling all over me!
Funny thing was, it looked like I wouldn’t have to wait on Siller to get a positive reaction. Both Jeannie and Marguerite were clearly enjoying the view. What was with these two?
“Uh, Marguerite, how much are these shoes?” I asked, afraid to hear the price.
“Buy the stockings, and I’ll throw the shoes in for free.” She answered, smiling.
I was dumbfounded. I thought she might give me the stockings if I bought the shoes, but not the other way around!
Marguerite laughed at the look on my face. “You don’t know how pleased I am that Vanessa brought you by. I know you’re both college students and probably don’t have a lot to spend. The shoes are my gift. The stockings, yes, I sell them, and buying them will make you a customer. The shoes are really not my main business, just sort of a sideline. Consider them a form of advertising.
“But, if you decide you want some of the other designs, please let me know. I can order them, and I will give you a fair price.”
Well that certainly “sold” me. I ended up buying several more pairs of the thigh-highs and a pale cream bustier top, so I really was a customer. But the heels…wow!
When Jeannie and I finally took our leave from Marguerite, she gave us both a hug and a kiss on each cheek. She had invited us to have dinner with her, but I knew my mother was expecting us at home and so begged off. I was beginning to wonder exactly what her relationship with Jeannie really was, since it seemed to extend beyond vendor/customer somehow.
However, next stop was my house. I had warned my mother what to expect, because that was a standing instruction from her. She was very organized and didn’t much like surprises. I don’t know what Jeannie expected, but when we drove up into the immaculate driveway of my mother’s small house, she looked around, obviously impressed.
My mother wasn’t well-to-do in the classic sense, but she had good business sense and had made the most of her opportunities in the ten years since she threw my father out.
I had told Jeannie I had lived the abusive scene, and I had. My mother had put up with my father’s beatings for years, until at age fifteen, my older brother Antoine had told her if she didn’t do something, he would. I was only twelve then. That got her moving, and she filed a complaint and then got a restraining order and a divorce — and counseling.
After he graduated from high school and was confident my mother was on the right track, Antoine joined the Army. He came back often to visit, but he seemed to be well on his way to a successful career.
My mother met us in the driveway and gave Jeannie a warm hug. “I hope you two are hungry, because I’ve got a feed planned. Come on in!”
Jeannie seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to my mother, as they shared an interest in cooking that I had never really “caught.” Jeannie had a good sense of humor and was able to tell her some tales of college life that got us all laughing. The evening went quickly; my mother liked a glass of wine after dinner and she offered some to Jeannie (and even, surprisingly, to me).
My mother was a big fan of The Cosby Show, so she asked Jeannie if she would mind if we watched. It turned out Jeannie’s family watched it too, so Jeannie knew all the characters and we all laughed at the various situations in the show.
Later, we headed to my room. Mother had made up an inflatable bed on the floor and Jeannie insisted on taking that one for herself. We got ready for bed and then Jeannie made a strange request. She asked if I had a new razor she could use in the morning, as she had forgotten to bring one. I told her I wasn’t sure I had a new one but she was welcome to use mine.
She hesitated and said she’d really like a new one. I was a little bit hurt — was she implying that a razor I had used wasn’t very clean or something?
I guess my reaction was kind of obvious. She blushed to her roots. What a shade of red a blonde white girl could turn!
“Nicole, I’m really sorry to be so particular, but I never even use my own leg razor for uh, this.”
Suddenly understanding dawned. “You’re talking about shaving, umm, down there, right?”
She nodded. “It’s an extra-sensitive area, and even using a razor once on your legs dulls it to the point you don’t want to use it there, trust me. And it’s recommended that you simply not use a razor anywhere else and then use it down there, because of the possibility of infection. It’s a delicate area — but I’m not telling you anything you don’t know!”
“Do you have to do that every day?” I queried.
She nodded her head. “I normally shave there in the morning. I can let it go a day or two, if I’m not going to see Jack, but more than that it itches too much. I’m hoping to find a more permanent solution pretty soon. Marguerite says…” and she cut herself off.
I looked at her curiously. “What does Marguerite say, Vanessa?” I emphasized the final word a bit.
Her head jerked up suddenly. “Why did you call me that?”
I smiled at her, sure I was on the right track now. “I think Vanessa is more than a pet name. I think it has something to do with the relationship you and Jack have. And I think Marguerite knows about it. Am I right?”
She smiled. “You are too sharp! ‘Vanessa’ is the name Jack uses when he wants to emphasize my submissive nature. It’s like a code word. He used it once in front of Marguerite, when we went there the first time to buy lingerie. And as you saw, Marguerite is no dummy. She actually gave Jack a note, that first visit, that kind of hinted she knew what we were about, and offering her services to help.
“We went back to see her about other kinds of clothing. That’s when I got the black ‘killer’ heels you saw. And to talk to her about our relationship.” She blushed again. “She invited us to dinner, much like she did today,” Jeannie looked at me with a sly smile, “and then invited us to stay the night. And we did.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you stayed the night? What was that like?”
She looked directly into my eyes. “I found out I enjoy making love with another woman. Perhaps I’m bisexual. And I found out I’m not jealous when Jack is with another woman. He is who he is and I am who — and what — I am. His plaything. And Nicole,” she looked at me intensely, “I love it. God help me, but I do love it.”
So I hadn’t imagined the “lez be friends” look I thought she gave me that night in the dorm room. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Right here in my room!
Just at that moment, I heard my mother call out. “You girls get to bed, now, you may not be getting up for church tomorrow, but I am!”
We giggled a little and started to get into our beds. Then I remembered what had started the whole conversation. I got up and leaned over the inflatable bed where Jeannie lay.
“Tomorrow morning, after my mother leaves, I’ll get a new razor for you, OK?”
“Oh thank you so much, Nicole, I really appreciate it!” She sat up and impulsively kissed me, again, right on the lips!
Only this time, I surprised myself by kissing her back. Her mouth opened as if she had been waiting for the moment, and her tongue pushed its way between my answering lips. She put her arms around me and pulled me down on to the inflatable bed on top of her. We floundered around on the bouncing mattress for a moment, trying to regain our balance, and both of us ended up laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
Once the heaving sea of the mattress finally calmed down, I lay there, just looking into her wide blue eyes from inches away, not saying anything. She reached over and gently brushed the curls away from my face. I closed my eyes and kissed her hand.
Just at that moment there came a loud knocking at the door. My mother’s voice said, “Are you girls alright in there? I thought I heard someone fall!”
If you can imagine a submarine-launched ballistic missile with brown curly hair erupting from the surface of the ocean, that would have been me jumping out of Jeannie’s bed. Only faster.
“No, mother, I just tripped on the air bed coming back from the bathroom. Everybody’s fine!”
“OK, then, you girls go to sleep now, you hear?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Yes, Mrs. [my mother’s last name].”
We both giggled at the near miss. I think we both decided that this was not the time, and DEFINITELY not the place.
I don’t know what she dreamed about that night, but I dreamed about her blonde hair, her creamy skin, and those soft lips. What would tomorrow bring?
******
The next morning, as promised, I went in hunt for a new razor after my mother left for church. We had said goodbye to her in our night clothes, since we had planned to be on our way before she came home.
I found a new pack of disposables, and took it up to Jeannie.
“Last night, you said Marguerite had something to say about shaving. Don’t tell me she…?”
Jeannie smiled wickedly. “She most certainly does.”
“Oh my!” I said, and we both laughed.
“However, hers is permanent. She used a process called electrolysis, which requires a number of sessions. She told me she had a clinic that she would recommend, but I think I’d like to find one a little closer if I go that route. There is also a newer process, called laser hair removal, but I don’t know much about that yet.”
So, I got to watch the process Jeannie used. It was pretty fascinating, and, as I knew already, the results were, well, sexy as hell.
“Do you want to try?” She offered.
I had been thinking about it while watching her do hers. And it did look sexy as hell. Siller would love it…
“OK. I’ll give it a try. How do I get started?”
“First, trim as much as you can with a pair of scissors. That helps keep your razor from clogging and makes it a lot easier to see what you are doing. Then, get in the shower and wash the area with a gentle soap. You want to be as clean as possible. Then, you need a fresh razor. Apply some shaving gel, and shave downward with the hair, that is, in the direction it’s growing. Use really small strokes, taking it very slow and carefully, while holding your skin taut with the other hand. That helps protect against little nicks. Afterwards, I recommend some 1% hydrocortisone cream to soothe the area. Aloe vera gel is also good.”
Under her tutelage I was “bare down there” in about thirty minutes.
“Wow! That feels weird. But I think it looks pretty good.”
“Are you kidding? It looks super-hot! You have the most beautiful skin, and you did a great job. I kind of had to figure it out on my own, but of course mine was already done for me the first time.”
“Already done for you? What are you talking about?”
She laughed. “Oh I didn’t tell you the whole story of the night Rick and Jack ‘kidnapped’ me. DeeDee shaved me while I was tied down.”
Wow. I was just learning too much crazy shit. I didn’t know how to react — but Jeannie seemed to have taken it in stride.
We started to pull together clothes for our trip back to my apartment, where Jeannie had left her car. She had come up to see Jack briefly before we started on our girl’s trip. Jack had a big project due the following week and needed to concentrate on getting that together so things had worked out well for us.
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you wear the stockings and heels you got from Visions? That way I can see the final result and you can try them out — where you don’t have much walking to do.”
“I’d like to do that, but I’m not sure about driving in those heels.”
“I’ll drive then. Your car’s an automatic like my Chevy II so pretty easy. I’ll wear some of my tall heels too, I’m a little more used to them.”
That seemed like a good solution, so I agreed. I wasn’t sure what Jeannie was getting at, but I was kind of turned on by the suggestion.
So that’s how I ended up, not in jeans and a sweatshirt, my usual form of dress, but in a red cotton blouse, my new bustier, bright green pleated skirt, thigh-highs, and the incredible five-inch patent pumps. I don’t know why I left my panties off, I guess because, with my new bareness, I just liked the feeling. I also knew Jeannie wasn’t wearing them. Maybe that’s what made her exude sex all the time? I didn’t know, but I liked it!
Jeannie dressed like I usually saw her; some variation on a white or creme-colored blouse, a (usually) dark-colored pencil skirt that stopped well above the knees, stockings, and heels. Today she was white and black; crisp white cotton blouse, black skirt. I could tell again she was wearing something that didn’t cover her nipples, and I had watched her attach the taupe stockings to her garter belt.
She told me she wasn’t actually “required” to dress like that all the time, but she liked the feel and had gotten really used to being “available.” For shoes, she had chosen some black ankle-strap sandals with a low platform and five-inch heels.
We didn’t look like we were driving back to school, we looked like we were getting ready to go partying! And frankly, given the shaving, no-panties, stockings and heels, we were both dressed about as hot as anything I could imagine, right at that moment. We both looked fucking amazing!
We both walked carefully in our killer heels to my old Chevy Nova, loaded the rest of our stuff in the trunk, and then I helped Jeannie adjust the bench seat. We belted ourselves in and headed out for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to my apartment at school.
We chattered and talked about this and that as we drove up the road, every once and a while each of us stealing a glance at the other way-too-sexy bitch in the car.
After awhile the chatter died down and I leaned my head back a little and closed my eyes. Before very long, I felt a touch on my leg and opened my eyes to see Jeannie’s pale hand with its long pink fingernails lying on my leg just above the knee. I looked over at her and she glanced my way for a moment. I reached down with my darker hand and moved her hand gently upward along my leg until it was past the band of the thigh-high stockings I had on.
I leaned my head back again and closed my eyes, trying not to tense up as I awaited what I suspected (and hoped!) would come next. She didn’t disappoint me. Her hand disappeared up under my skirt and began to insinuate itself between the freshly-shaved (and naked) lips of my pouting puss. She didn’t do much else for a moment, just rested her fingers there.
Pretty soon, I couldn’t stand the wait any longer, and I began to move against her fingers. My breath was coming faster, and getting a little ragged.
Then I looked over at her and thought, two can play this game! I unbuckled my seat belt and slid across the seat to be next to her, refastening the lap belt in the middle. She gave me a quick glance as I reached over and placed my hand on her nylon-covered leg. I knew how good it felt to slide my hand over my own stockings — I had no fucking idea how sexy it would feel to rub my hand over the nylon heated by her skin! I reeled myself back in, though, leaving that for later. I reached up and began unbuttoning her blouse. When I had it open almost to her waist, I pulled it out a little and saw what she was wearing underneath. She had on a beautiful white push-up bra that had open cups — so her small, perfect breasts were lifted and enhanced but left exposed. Wow! Super-hot!
I began to cup and fondle those pretty white boobs with my right hand, running my thumb over each of the pink nipples in turn and watching them get stiff. By moving over, I had cramped her style a little with her exploring hand, pushing it way up in my pussy. She was moving it slightly, but just the feeling of it in there was heating me up.
Suddenly she took an exit off the highway and pulled into a rest area, parking as far away from other cars as she could get. She released her seat belt, turned towards me and looked at me with a grin on her face.
“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘Get a room?'”
And then she promptly kissed me, hard, as we fell over onto the seat.
We didn’t come up for air for at least a full minute, both of us too busy fondling whatever we could reach and swapping spit like teenagers at a drive-in.
Finally, breathing hard, I broke our lip-lock and said, “OK, this is 1985 and all, but it’s also still deep in the heart of Dixie — and the bible belt. We are just about a half-hour from my apartment. Do you think we can keep our pants on that long?”
Then we both laughed, remembering that neither of us had pants on.
So for the next thirty or so minutes, we sat, primly, saying nothing, with Jeannie seemingly intensely focused on the drive and me trying to ignore the wetness between my legs.
Finally, seeming more like thirty years than thirty minutes later, we arrived at my apartment.
We both carefully walked to the door, I unlocked it and we went in. I re-locked the door behind us and…well, what to do next? Sit down in the living room? Run for the bed? Start making out while just standing there? I finally decided the last choice would work, as I couldn’t keep my hands off of her any longer.
But we were able to slow down a bit. There was no rush, now, no one to disturb us. Vanessa (why did I suddenly think of her as Vanessa?) had left her blouse undone. She was standing in front of me, passive now. I put my left hand behind her neck and drew her to me, tilting her head, kissing her lightly on the lips, then with more urgency as her lips opened and accepted my questing tongue.
I reached down with my other hand and finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it free of the skirt, then I pushed it off of her shoulders. I slid the hand behind her neck down inside the back of her blouse to help clear it off of her arms, letting it fall to the floor. I unbuttoned and unzipped the back of her skirt and let it slide down her legs. I drew her towards me again and, without resistance, she stepped delicately out of the two pieces of clothing now discarded, unwanted anymore, where they lay on the floor.
No more undressing was required. I could see that Vanessa, in accordance with Jack’s rules, was available for sex without further effort. Even though Jack was nowhere around, she was still available. The open-cup bra lifted and displayed her pale breasts, it didn’t hide or protect them. The garter belt and stockings, and indeed the heels, served only to frame, tighten, and display her shapely legs, rounded ass, and bare mound.
She stood quietly before me. I was struck by that, that even without the immediate presence of Jack, her…Master? she seemed poised to obey. Well, she was submissive, by her own description.
I resumed my exploration of her mouth with my tongue, drawing her closer to me. Her arms went around me and began to work at removing my garments. The red blouse came over my head and the green skirt, unbuttoned and unzipped, fell to the floor as well. Her hands found the clasps of my bustier and suddenly I felt it loosen, hanging from my shoulders. A quick shrug or two and it also found its way to the pile of discarded garments on the floor.
This was Vanessa’s first real view of my breasts; she broke the kiss for a moment to look down at them. Her hands came from around my back to cup the fleshy protrusions and she placed her thumbs on the dark brown nipples, already hardening under her eyes and touch. She lowered her face to them and gently suckled on each one, drawing its stiffness into her lips and drawing a moan from mine.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt her hands return to my back and travel down my sides onto my buttocks. She had dropped to her knees in front of me, pulling me towards her mouth with her hands cupping my ass cheeks. She squeezed and pulled on them, opening my lower lips to her tongue. The angle wasn’t really quite right, but I somehow sensed that wasn’t as important as her need to assume this submissive posture in front of me.
Now was the time to find a bed. I reached under her arms and lifted her to her feet again and walked her into the bedroom. I had started to remove my heels when Vanessa spoke her first words since we had entered the apartment.
“Don’t take them off, they are beautiful on you.”
We crawled up on the bed as we were. For the moment, we just drank in the feel of warm flesh touching flesh, added to the incredible feel of our stocking-covered legs rubbing each other.
In the heat of the bed, however, Vanessa shed all reticence and passivity. Here, she seemed unafraid to demonstrate her needs and desires. With the smell of sex all around, she was not hesitant in taking the initiative. In a way, by giving herself over to satisfying me first, she was submitting but showing the way to rapture.
Her lips were like flame as they traveled the length of my neck and shoulders, alternately kissing and sucking on my skin. She once more pleasured my breasts with her lips and fingers, sucking and rolling the nipples and fondling the fleshy mounds until I began to pant. Then she worked her lips and tongue down my flat belly and onto my thighs.
She avoided the obvious target of my shaven lips and mound initially, continuing to lick and kiss her way down my thighs to the stockings. Along the length of the nylon she left a silvery trail of her saliva as she worked her way down my legs, alternating left and right as she touched, kissed, squeezed, and licked her burning path.
She removed (and replaced) each shoe in turn to give the same treatment to my feet, sucking on each of the nylon-covered toes as if each were a tiny cock. Then she began to kiss her way back up the inside of my legs, and soon I could feel her hot breath at the entrance to my pussy.
Vanessa’s lips and tongue must have covered every inch of my freshly-shaven mound, sucking, licking, tasting, gradually working their fiery way to the center of my sex. When her tongue first touched the outer lips, I jerked like I had been shocked. She began to suck my outer lips, then the inner ones, into her mouth, tasting me slowly and savoring the shivers that continually ran through my body.
I felt her finger, then, for the first time, teasing my lips into her mouth and slowly drawing closer to my clit. I was moaning almost continuously by now, as her finger began to gently rub the head of my little man in the boat.
She moved herself a little closer and began to suck and lick on the clit directly, feasting on me as I blazed brighter and more furiously. At the same time, I felt her fingers slip around between the cheeks of my ass and begin to gently stroke and probe at the little rosebud there. That was unfamiliar territory for me, but I was unable to resist or, truly, even form a coherent thought at this point.
Unconsciously, my hands had moved around to her head. I looked down and saw my dark fingers buried in her blonde tresses. I had taken some measure of control; she readily surrendered it. My grip in her hair tightened and I began to push myself onto her face, willing her lips and tongue to push harder, to treat me rougher, to sink deeper into me. And she complied.
I felt a finger push pass my tight rosebud into my rectum, then another. She was holding onto me as I was holding onto her. I began to scream as my orgasm rolled over me, a wordless wail of passion and release. I pushed harder into her face, pulling her head forcefully into my crotch and bucking hard against it as I came.
I relaxed my grip on her hair, and I felt her move back slightly. She was gasping for breath; I must have nearly suffocated her in my pussy! But I too was gasping, although for different reasons. I felt her shift and move back up my body until her lips were on mine again. My mouth opened and I drank in the heady smell and enticing flavor of my own orgasm off of her lips, tongue and face.
She whispered, “Oh my darling, to taste you so. I thought I would die!”
I wanted her to feel the same pleasure; I knew she wanted, no, needed, to cum herself.
I wasn’t sure I was as skilled at cunnilingus as she, but I had a secret weapon. I slid myself over to the drawer of my bedside table and drew out a cock-shaped vibrator I kept for those nights when Siller could not be with me.
I waved it in front of her eyes with a lascivious grin, turned it on, and began to tease her pink nipples with the tip while I kissed her. I alternated my lips and tongue with the buzzing vibrator and soon she was arching her back, once more gasping for air. I continued my electric assault down her body but, knowing she was already deep into the throes of passion, did not delay the main event as she had. I prepared her naked mound with my lips and tongue and followed each foray with my buzzy little friend. By the time I was nibbling on her outer lips she was beginning to scream.
I had thought I was noisy….Vanessa made me sound like a whimpering child. She began to vocalize and I actually lost track of how many times she said ‘Oh my fucking God’ and ‘I’m your slut’ and, finally, ‘Oh God I’m cumming!’
That last was when I had the vibrator buried in her pussy while I was sucking and nibbling on her little man in the boat.
When we had both returned to planet Earth, we snuggled together, kissing and cuddling like any other two lovers who had just carried each other to Heaven and back. I marveled at how her pale skin looked so beautiful next to my amber color, how my black curly hair mingled with and set off her blonde bangs. My lips pressed to hers…
Vanessa. The name hung in my mind. The special “pet name” Jack had given her to signify and trigger her submissiveness.
Suddenly I wondered out loud. “What do you think Jack would say about this, Vanessa?”
“He gave me permission to be with you. That’s why I went to see him briefly before we left.”
“So you planned for this? Anticipated it?”
“Yes. I was attracted to you. I asked Jack if it would be OK with him, if this happened. He approved.”
“So this whole weekend, this whole trip, was designed to seduce me? And what if I said no? What if I had said you were a pervert?”
“Then I would have been disappointed. But this whole weekend was not designed to seduce you. I genuinely wanted to know you better, to be your friend. You may recall, you kissed me back last night. I didn’t force you to do anything against your will.
“Do you feel hurt, or deceived? I don’t want you to feel that way at all. If nothing had happened, I would truly have been disappointed, but I still would have wanted to share the time with you, introduce you to my folks, meet your mother, go shopping, all those things!
“Please don’t feel that the only reason for getting together this weekend was the chance for sex. But since it happened, I thought the sex was pretty damn good! Didn’t you think so?”
I did indeed think so. And I told her so. Both verbally, and with my lips against hers.
I did have a moment’s guilty conscience about Siller. What would I tell him about this, if he should find out? I had to tell him, I couldn’t keep this secret from him.
I dismissed that thought for now. Vanessa and I held each other tightly, and slowly, gently, drifted off to sleep.
We still had hours before she needed to head back to her school. I so hoped she might move closer…
After a while, something annoyed me a little, dragging me back towards the surface, a rattling, clicking sound…like keys in a lock…like keys in a lock!
At just the moment I was beginning to come to grips with the thought, the door to the bedroom swung open.
I looked up into Siller’s broad grin. “Holy Sheeeiiit! Looks like Christmas done come early this year!”
-to be continued-
