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The night air was pleasant, cool and slightly moist against your skin, but it brought you no peace. As you leaned out over the balcony, surveying the reflecting pools and gardens of the estate stretching out into the moonlight, you tried to relax, enjoy the panorama, and ignore the sound of the music, laughter, and dancing in the ballroom down the hall from the study whose window you had flung open. Flung open at the end of a mad flight from the ball, trying to escape that which you most desired and, yet, by which you were most terrified.

The party had begun pleasantly enough. You had come unescorted, determined you have a good time regardless of who had or had not come with you. There were enough unattached men, or just outrageous flirts, to more than fill a casual night. Perhaps you would meet someone interesting, or particularly attractive, you had thought, but put the subject from your mind: no expectations except for diversion.

Then, two hours or so after the first dancing had begun, she had entered the room. It was between dances, and the crowd was busy with angling through the floor, looking for someone to ask for the next dance, or making themselves obvious to the person they wished would ask them. When the dark figured had filled the doorway, many had turned to look. Most had given a quick, appreciative glance, and then returned to their partners. You had not; although you were across the room, you stopped and stared as if turned to stone.

She was tall, at least six feet. She was dressed in black, in a perfect coachman’s uniform. She wore tight pants fit into calf-high boots, shiny and well-polished. Her vest, cut to give her a tight V-figure, was closed with a double row of bright silver buttons. Those, and her white cravat, were the only thing which were not black, black to the point of absorbing the light around her. Her hands and fingers were long and delicate as she casually tapped the palm of one hand with a riding crop. Her features were strong, aristocratic, not feminine except in their beauty. Her close-cropped hair was nearly completely concealed by a coachman’s top hat. But her eyes drew you most of all. Large, intense, as dark as her clothing, they held to the promise of lust, passion, power and even cruelty

The band struck up a waltz on a slightly off note, shocking you back to reality. You dimly were aware of your partner taking your hand and leading you onto the dance floor, and the movement gradually brought you to earth. Occasionally as the dance progressed, you would glimpse her dancing with women (and always leading). But after every dance, she was someplace else, asking someone else to dance; you could never seem to get near to her. Finally, the impression of her first appearance faded, and the evening continued.

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Jackie’s mother greeted her with a smile and a letter when she returned home from high school in late January. It was Jackie’s sophomore year, and she had applied for a scholarship to study abroad. All through school, Jackie had studied Portuguese until it became her life. She hurriedly ripped the envelope and pulled out the letter. Sure enough! She’d been accepted in the exchange program study in France. She would be staying with a Brazilian family, named Macros outside of Salvador.

As she would be leaving June 23, Jackie prepared carefully for her trip, trying to remember the little things necessary in a foreign country. She also studied about Salvador, learning it was formerly the capitol Brazil and its people were extremely friendly.

At the airport when her mother hugged her goodbye, Jackie cried but looked forward eagerly to meet the new land. Her heart beat with anticipation of what would greet her.

The next morning, Jackie stepped out of the lumbering jet the welcome of a mild morning. The weather was a bit cloudy, but the air was extremely humid, causing her clothes to hug her body closely. Once through customs, she eagerly scanned the lobby for the Macros family. They had written and promised to meet her. A small dark-skinned lady approached her and said, “Jackie?” Jackie smiled and nodded her head in affirmation.

They met up with the rest of the family, and entered into a large Chevrolet. Soon they were home, and Jackie had met and talked with her new relatives. Her Portuguese was a bit choppy, but she found she could communicate well. She shared her room with her “sister,” Roselia. Roselia was also dark skinned, with shoulder-length hair. Her teeth were pearly white, always obvious because of her smile. They became close friends, talking about each other’s country.

As each week went by, Jackie became more acquainted and familiar with her surroundings. The people were extremely friendly. Jackie found the boys especially fun, and she and Roselia drew many whistles when shopping downtown.

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I have been thinking much about Dianne lately. You see, she is a very beautiful single woman, very open sexually, and very caring for others (it is difficult for a man, and some women, to resist such a combination). I met her several months ago — of all places — in the waiting room of my dentist, where she shared with me her business (which is of no relevance to this story). My wife, Kristin, and I decided a few weeks later to join her business venture, and because of this association we have since developed a very close friendship with Dianne.

Kristin apparently has also of late been thinking a lot about Dianne. The signs are obvious — daily phone calls, visits to her apartment, her name being brought up in our conversation, etc. Last week, Dianne and Kristin went backpacking by themselves to the local wilderness area while I kept our two kids at home (it is important for my wife, a financial planner, to get away from the daily grind and enjoy her friends apart from me)….

Last Friday, Dianne called me up and wanted me to meet her for lunch at our favorite restaurant. After a light lunch with some equally light but strangely forced conversation, Dianne looked into my eyes with a look that I’ve never seen before, a look of fear combined with a look of desire, and asked, “Mark, it is difficult for me to say this, but I have fallen in love with both you and Kristin.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this. On the one hand, my sexual desire for her was burning bright, and I got excited about what was soon to transpire, yet her simultaneous love for my wife confused, scared, and intrigued me. What could I say? I looked at her for a moment, and without thinking I said, “Does Kristin know your feelings for her? As far as I know, Kristin is straight, and has never in our relationship stated anything to the contrary. All I know is that my desire for you is very strong, and that I have wanted for several weeks to make love to you.”

“I know about your feelings for me,” Dianne replied, “I could see it in your actions, in your words, and in your eyes. And my feelings for you are just as strong. Kristin knows about my love for her and for you, and she is in love with me as she is in love with you. It was during our backpacking trip that we expressed our love for one another.”

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Gina was rolling her head from side to side on the pillow. Her jet black hair was sprayed out in all directions. She was using her hands to guide Di’s tongue to just the right spot. “So Good yes Di!” she screamed as Di’s tongue danced across her [tag]clit[/tag]. Di drove harder at Gina’s soaking pussy. As she licked up and down the lips and around that swollen little clitty she thought to herself that Gina was really enjoying her first [tag]orgasm[/tag] from a girl. And what a prize Gina was. At eighteen Gina was still a virgin. Her hair hung straight down reaching the very top of her 35 inch hips. Di ever so gently started to rub her finger around that little puckered rosebud. Gina cried out, “OH! OOOH! OOOH! Di I never knew. That feels so good. OOOH! Don’t stop, I feel so tingly.” Di moved her other hand up to take those raspberry-sized nipples into her fingers and roll them around. All the while she was gently licking those swollen lips getting all of that sweet nectar she could.

Her finger began to probe Di’s tight little hole. She wanted to give Di a very good cum. Powerful. When she was done it would be her turn to be worked over and she wanted Di to have plenty of ideas of what to do. Di’s nipples stuck out like very ripe berries and were so hard, sitting atop soft mounds of creamy alabaster. Gina had never seen a woman with 38 inch C cup breasts that stuck straight out like Di’s. Gina was starting to buck her hips and press against Di’s finger as it worked its way into her asshole. Di started to move it in and out slowly half twisting it with each stroke. Shoving her face hard against Di’s wet pussy she took that swollen clit into her lips and gently pulled it. Sucking hard and then light. She pinched first one nipple then the other.
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Shirll spread her legs and reclined on her bed. The music pulsed deeply, going into her very essence, causing her erotic mood to become highly sensorial. Her fingers traced the smooth lines of her body. Using a knife to cut away her panties seemed more erotically stimulating that simply removing them or masturbating through the soaked cloth. She arched her back and tried to rip open her bra by thrusting her enormous breasts forward. Through the material of her bra you could see her enormous tits and the dark subcircle around them. They were very wet from her secretions.

She massages her breasts with her left hand, while her right hand is lying gently and unmoving upon her thigh. Under the smooth caresses and fondling, her elegant breasts dilate as she sighs and smiles, she is beginning to come. Her bosom is so awe inspiring through her bra that one wonders how one could bear it if seen unclad! Suddenly the door opens and her roommate walks in…. and stares. Shirll makes no attempt to cover herself whatsoever. She spread her legs further apart and gently touched her fingers to her genitalia and brought some of the flowing juices up to her tongue.

“Hi Tanis”, she said, and arched her back with a scream of pain and ripped open her bra. Her breasts stood almost straight out, rare for someone who has ’em that enormous. And on the end of those immense nipples there was a clear fluid seeping that somewhat resembled semen. Tanis was gaping in astonishment, partly because she had never seen her stripped before, and the other reason being that of the alien fire she felt racing through her body. Unconsciously she touched herself through her jeans, as she always did whenever she felt like it — she had done so in front of Shirll many times, and had even got off when Shirll was in the room watching, however nothing ever developed beyond watching each other masturbate through their clothing. Now, however it was looking like that might change. (click to read entire story…)