Limbering up while I await your arrival, I expect my nudity will cause you to reschedule our dinner reservations for a few hours later, as a way of refueling for our continuing sexual exertions. I don’t flinch when the door swings open to reveal your cousin is in town again. She is immediately apologetic for the unexpected intrusion, while you rush to offer me a robe. She feigns embarassment, but can’t take her eyes off my exposed body. I smile and meet her eyes with a meaningful gaze, harkening back to our farewell embraces from her last visit. I don’t tighten the robe around me, when you wrap me in it for my modesty. Your kisses and nuzzling of my neck are coupled with explanations of her surprise layover. I’m wet with wanting and wondering how long I have to make my move on her. Ever since our clandestine coupling, I’ve been pining for a rematch, but never mentioned my desires to you. We settle in to recreate with our drugs of choice… whiskey, wine and weed. In no time, our lubricants have had their way with our impulse control including having the restaurant deliver our meal, instead of leaving the loft. Your cousin has joined me in our powder room for some giggling and nuzzling while you make the arrangements.
“He suspects… we have to tell him.”
“How could he know?”
“He keeps bringing up girl-on-girl action… and he’s overly curious.”
My tongue is down her throat as she fondles my breasts.
“So why not show him, see how he responds…”
“Such a hot idea, if he buys in… we can play it out for him… and get our jollies while he watches.”
“Such a sexy minx, I’ll bring it up…”
Her fingers slip under my robe to find my drenched entry.
“This makes you so wet, not sure I can wait.”
“Taste me to tide you over…”
My glistening is nursed from her fingers, before she shares a deep kiss to share my flavor.
“I’m not wearing panties… either.”
You have slipped downstairs to meet the delivery guy, so we re-fill his glass and spark another joint, to set an over-indulgent mood. Great food is enjoyed and the dinner conversation veers toward kinks and sexual bucket lists. You are the first to broach the Sappho subject and we run with it. Your cousin leans in for a kiss, then pivots away as a tease.
you shout, calling her bluff. She raises an eyebrow, and returns to lay a sincere smooch on my lips, deepening it for the extended duration. You raise a glass and whoop,
I push it a bit further, returning the kiss and letting my silky robe slide off my shoulder. I hear your low growl, as her hand cradles my exposed breast. My whimper is a mix of lust and helpless surrender to the sensations when she strums my nipple with her thumb. You are breathless and nodding encouragement as I succumb to our mutual arousal. I fiddle with her cotton shirt, so there is room to savor the flavor of her unfettered breasts.
You throw back the whiskey in your glass and murmur in confused incoherence… ‘hot’ ‘sexy’ ‘exactly’. It’s the greenlight we need. She takes the lead and we are soon both stripped naked, rolling in each others arms, moaning and howling as we ravage and relish each other. I lay back on our leather couch so she can feast between my splayed thighs and gaze at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Yours are wide-eyed and totally invested in the uninhibited exhibition, dumbstruck by the circumstances and my guttural groaning. When I cum in a cascade of multiples, I shout your name, then hers in a variety of whispers. She strokes my effervescing skin as the aftershocks continue, while you regain your words to expound on how frickin’ hot we were… how hard you are… how we made a dream come true…
“Your cousin is owed her own orgasm… after all, she is our guest…”
You cannot believe your good luck, and hint at setting up a video camera. Your cousin confesses that is top of her bucket list, since she lives by herself… and so far away. You leave the loft to gather supplies, while we take an intimate shower together to respool the perfection of our sexy scheme… and plan the next. We cannot keep our hands off one another, spending an obsessive amount of time making out to ramp our arousal.
“Oh my, what about your layover, when is your connecting flight?”
“I fibbed about the layover… I was aching for this, booked a flight… crossed my fingers, hoping you felt the same way.”