Passing The Laws

We kissed each other, not like friends, but like lovers. We sighed in unison, upon gasping for air after that kiss:

"Ohhh!"

There was no turning back. She dragged me to her bed and kissed my breasts. I sighed:

"Your lips are so soft!"

She almost caused me an orgasm. I also wanted to taste her flesh, and I stuck to a nipple. It was the delirium.

I traveled through her body, as if giving her a massage, and she traveled through mine, and we rotated into the 69 position and I was going to eat my first vulva. I had never tasted my own vaginal secretions before, but I had this one in my face, and I didn't know what to do. She begged me with her lips, but not with words, but with their contact with my nether lips:

"Kiss it!"

And I dove into her vulva. We mutually sought our clitorises, and we suckled them in synchronicity. We mutually traced each other's labia with our lips and tongues and we coaxed more wetness to suck the clitoris more delicately. The orgasms were simultaneous and multiple. Then dug into my love canal and she found my G-spot; that made me feel as if I had a 100-inch penis in me. I returned the favor and she gave a scream against my vulva, grabbing on my buttocks for dear life. I ended up doing the same, and I even shouted like crazy:

"You kill me with pleasure. Kill me, you prostitute!"

And Sheila's raving went like this:

"You little bitch, your arse is mine now!"

We squirted feminine semen on each other with, as if we wanted to drown each other, and mercifully, she was the last one to fall unconscious.

We woke up at mid-morning, holding on to each other's bellies. We kissed each other again, and upon tasting our own secretions, already dry, we went to wash. I got dressed quickly, and exchanging mischievous glances with her, I told her to do so, and hardly covering our nipples, we rode in my military-style SUV and we raced to my mansion. Upon entering the lobby, we discarded the clothes and I led her to the big Jacuzzi to hug and kiss each other while naked. Her tongue invaded my mouth with lust and I also put mine inside her, and that intertwining of tongues loosened our inhibitions in order to grind our bellies and squeeze each other's breasts. Eager for more pleasure, I led her to the master bedroom and I took out a double-headed dildo. She sat down in the bed and opened her legs greedily for me and I inserted it into her vagina without thinking whether I could hurt her, but she didn't complain, but she received it rather approvingly. I sat down in front of her and inserted the other end in me, leaving a margin of one or two inches (three to five centimeters) in order to begin the sway. At first, both of us got hold of the phallus in order to move it together, and as our hands got tired, we took turns. From time to time, we stroked the clitoris, sometimes, our own, and other times, each other's. When our G-spots woke up, we pressed on and the cramps in our wrists didn't matter to us, until we reached that sensation that sets the whole body on fire again. Finally, we pulled the dildo out, we embraced, and we even rolled over the puddle on the sheets upon kissing once again to say:

"I love you!"

"I love you too!"

I had a brief lapse of good sense, but it was not to regret what I did with her, but in order to clean the mess that we left in our wake. We tossed the washable clothes to a washer and the fine clothes into a bag to take to the dry cleaners. We went back into the Jacuzzi, but only to rest and consider our future together.

"Sandy, you have made me so happy."

"Thank you."

And I embraced her, not with passion, but with love. We fixed us a salad, not so much as to watch our diets, but in order not to use the stove, since we wanted to stay in the nude. We conversed about many things, like little girls, and we went to sleep hugged like "spoons," sometimes, she behind me, and other times, I behind her, in order to grab her breasts and buttocks.

It was a beautiful relationship while it lasted, and even Raymond and Milton accepted it without making a fuss. She also shared my interests in culture, but she then invited me to events that were a little more ideological, and obviously, to community activism meetings and of gay rights. But one day, she confronted me:

"Sandra, what we had was beautiful, but it's going nowhere."

"About what do you talk, Sheila? What do you mean by 'what we had?'"

"Look, I took advantage of you in a moment of mutual weakness, but in fact, you are not lesbian."

"Maybe not, but I love you."

"And I love you too, but this can't go on! I love you like the daughter that, for my life style, I will never have."

I passed, in brief instants, from shock to an incredible lucidity: what I did was to make incestuous fantasies come true, first with Charles, as my own brother, then with Raymond, as my father, and finally, with her, as my mother. The remorse that I avoided fell upon me and I had to sit down, and trying to speak in a clear tone of voice, I told her:

"You are right, I only played a game of love as in a doll house. I am ready to be a full-grown woman, but, Sheila, I don't regret what I have felt with you, nor am I embarrassed, because it was beautiful. I will always love you, but in another way from now on."

We embraced and we kissed, not with sexual excitement, but with mental peace. Once again, I readjusted myself to see her also as a professional and never again as a lover.

Closing arguments:

Although in the face of the others, I pretended to already be a professional woman, decent and dispassionate, but when I was alone at the end of the day, the loneliness oppressed me. I continued to use my work like an antidote, since I had spent all my options. Grasping my maturity, I insisted on seeing Milton like a colleague or even a brother, but I was not attracted to him physically. I even knew that he was not well-endowed and I thought that, with something like that, I was not going to feel pleasure.

One day, a card in the mail surprised us: it was an invitation to Charles' wedding. I had already forgiven him and got ready to attend, because we are already friends and his new office respects to ours like good colleagues. I wanted to go dressed especially for the occasion, since the reception would be in the garden of their mansion, on a summer afternoon. I chose a long sarong-style dress with flower prints, and mischievously, I didn't wear any underwear, since the fabric was a little thin, and at least, the live colors would hide a nipple erection. I had the modesty of taking a long white blazer in order to cover myself during the ceremony, but the party began, I left it in my car. I greeted the newlyweds and I noticed that he ever as handsome as when I had him and she was somewhat tall and slender, like a high-fashion model. I wished them long life and happiness with all my heart and I hinted at the wedding gift that she was getting. She insinuated that she had already opened it, and I congratulated her between giggles of complicity, already feeling free of envy. I mingled and I greeted the guests, although I didn't know anybody. Raymond retired early and Sheila made "radar contact" with one of the bridesmaids.

I ordered a glass of white wine, not champagne, in order to toast for the bride and groom without getting tipsy, but I could not help getting a little dizzy, even with only a sip. I wanted to look strong and drink more, but after half a glass, I felt very odd. I went to a bathroom beside the pool, similar to the one in my house, but although I didn't vomit, I very uncomfortable and light-headed. Unexpectedly, Milton came to my rescue, since he had stayed on the sidelines, watching everything from a corner, due to his tremendous shyness, not very a good trait for a litigant lawyer. He signaled me:

"Psst! Sandra!"

I moved toward him but I tripped between the flagstones that form a walk in the grass, but he reached me on time so that I wouldn't sprain my ankle. Hopelessly, I waved my purse in his face to offer him the keys to my car, and I told him:

"Now, you drive. I don't feel well."

He settled me in the passenger seat, he buckled me up, careful of not touching my firm breasts, and he even covered me with my jacket as if it were a blanket. Then he circled the SUV to sit behind the wheel, and after starting the engine, he began to drive slowly, unaccustomed to my luxurious and powerful automobiles.

Upon arriving to my mansion, which was very close to that of Charles' father-in-law, I asked Milton to help me to reach my bathroom. There I mixed the water, not too cold, because I was not that drunk. Once under the warm water, I felt better, but I played on. I staggered a little and I made the old trick that is done in communal bathhouses, as in jails and gyms: I allowed the soap to slip to the floor and I told my friend to bring it to me. He pushed it through the curtain with his little hand, to avoid seeing me, and I told him:

"Milton, please, it will slip away again. Why don't you come in to lather me?"

I would have loved to see his expression of astonishment, when he said:

"In there?"

"Yes, please, I can barely stand up."

He mumbled, with a tone between exasperated and excited:

"But I am going to get wet."

"Then, take off your clothes!"

"Oh, dear...!"

But he did so. His erect penis led the way, the poor guy has less than 6 inches, or 15 cms. But even so, it looked appetizing. I ignored it with an air of pride and I asked him:

"Please help wash your poor colleague, who can't do it by herself."

He took the soap and he began passing it on my shoulders and my back while I held my hair high. His shy caresses aroused me immediately, and when he arrived at my waist, his hands trembled, so did I, but it was a delicious tremor. When he reached my buttocks, he stopped, frightened. He lied:

"I can't reach down there."

"Of course you can. It's right in front of you."

And he agreed to knead them. He fought the temptation to wedge his member in my cleft and drive himself to an orgasm. I opened my legs a little and told me to help me with my thighs, and he embraced them tenderly down to my calves. Then I turned around and I put my breasts against his ribs and I told him:

"Wash me well here."

He made big circles on my breasts, but he narrowed them until zeroing in on my nipples, and I vibrated with a small orgasm. I reminded him:

"You missed a spot down below."

He furrowed from my ribs to my belly and he continued over my abdomen, and looking at me in the eye, he asked me:

"Down there too?"

"Yes. Now you are helping me."

Upon rubbing my clitoris and my labia, I felt on fire, but I bore this as much as I could. His penis was red-hot. The orgasm that I achieved was intense but not enough. I turned again and I told him:

"Wash my behind, I am very dirty."

"Your anus?"

"Yes..."

I have a mirror in order to shave my armpits and I directed an enticing look at him. He blushed, but he was not going to reject the monument that he had in front of him, and he spread much soap in my hole, and then, I knew that none of us could hold back any more, so I leaned against his chest and I placed his glans shamelessly at the entrance of my anus, I lathered it, I loosened my sphincter a little and I got it inside. Then I took his hands in mine for an embrace, but his could not stay still, trying to reach all of me, while I moved to sodomize myself. He took the initiative, and holding on to my sides, he pumped into me forcefully. He wanted to do it more slowly, but feeling so much heat in his testicles, he accelerated his rhythm while we both shared a childish scream and he then pressed hard inside my rectum in order to ejaculate. I felt my bowels fill with burning lava, and that combined with all the caresses that he offered me in my front, caused me to ejaculate against the bathroom wall, and the water washed my semen away. Now we felt really dizzy, so I turned to hold him in a hug, and so his penis came out, resting against my abdomen, still erect. We rinsed our parts and we turned off the shower and I went to lie on my bed, and he followed me like a lap dog, although he just lost his erection. After spooning himself against me, he told me:

"Do you feel any better?"

"Yes, I never imagined that it would be so marvelous."

He was a little sad, because he felt too insignificant to wish for a woman so far out of his reach as me, too beautiful and too rich. I turned around to hug him face-to-face and I kissed him, telling him:

"I know about your worries."

"How could you know?"

"I know that you fell in love with me."

"From the first moment... What am I saying? This can't be..."

I was not going to let him cry, so I pressed against him to soothe him, whispering to his ear:

"Shhh, Shhh! It's all right, stay calm. You are with me."

I kissed that ear and his cheek, trailing a path toward his lips, and I told him:

"Do you know that you are the only boy whom I have allowed to ejaculate inside me?"

He breathed deep to avoid crumbling and he said:

"Do you trust me that much? It might be that I was a virgin, because I was never lucky with the girls."

"And how about now, with me?"

He remained silent and I also preferred to stay quiet. The truth is, I was not really intoxicated with so little wine that I ingested, but with the envy that I still felt for Charles and for his brand-new wife, because for me, the wedding was only an excuse in order to proclaim to the four winds how much they were going to enjoy of so much sex, sharing such a big penis.

Later on, we did have to use condoms in order to have sex, at least in the beginning, because I didn't love him yet, I only hung on to him to avoid feeling lonely. But upon noticing that we lasted together longer that my previous lovers, I had him move in with me, since he lived in a modest rented apartment, so we could keep each other company. That day, we were a little tired after making space to his belongings in my shed, and after giving him the room of my dead brother for his clothes and essential articles, we didn't do much more besides showering together, and since the muscular pains made us feel uncomfortable around each other, we even had to sleep on separate beds. We felt guilty for not spending the night together, but when we felt better, we celebrated with a copulation in the missionary position, after a light but pleasant erotic massage. He didn't get deep enough at first, so I turned to be on top of him in the "cowgirl" pose, and I bounced on him until I gushed so much feminine semen that I felt exhausted, collapsing on his chest. He told me:

"You are awesome, I don't know what you have, but you gave me two consecutive orgasms! Oh, I know..."

"For my experience, for the fact that I am such a slut?"

"No, for your beauty, for your love toward me!"

My semblance changed and he noticed it, and he continued:

"I have made a mistake with you. You don't love me. You still feel for Charles."

"No, Milton. I already forgot him; although that day of their wedding, he gave me a little nostalgia."

"But you still seek somebody better than me. I, who always was 'painted on the wall,' who has only been a carpet over whom all of you step. I was even aware of the dirty trick that you did to me by making me argue that case!"

He shut up after realizing that he was talking too much. Then, he began to sob, and he asked me for forgiveness. I consoled him:

"Milton, it's all right. It's true, we never gave you the importance that you deserve. I even had to look for love in an old man or a lesbian before turning to you. You are young, cute and you know how to please a woman. It won't happen again, I promise you."

He put on a look of disbelief and his tears wouldn't stop, so I had to take out the heavy artillery, and I exclaimed:

"No, Milton, better yet, I swear to you: I do love you!"

"No, Miss Alexandra, I don't want your white lies! I'm not even rich or handsome enough to look good with you!"

"Don't you say that! You are very beautiful!"

He shook me off his body, careful not to drop me to the floor, while he protested, already with a voice less vehement:

"Don't do this to me, don't you tell me that you love me or care for me. We are together only to satisfy your physical desire. I don't know what you gain from fooling around with such a geek like me, people will think that you are crazy!"

"Don't do this to yourself, Milton. You love me and have suffered for my sake all this time, that's why you talk like this..."

"I am not blind. You have the body of a goddess, and for that reason, you bewitched me, from the first moment in which I saw you. But nothing more."

I approached gingerly to caress his cheek, still moist for the bad moment through which he was going, and I whispered to him again:

"You feel something beautiful about me; don't deny it!"

Still defiant, like a wrongly punished boy, he replied:

"I don't wish you ill, if that's what you mean."

I did have an effect on him, because I ran my fingers "absent-mindedly" over his nipples, and then, he changed his tone and he continued:

"All right, you have much love to give, because you must have suffered a lot when you lost all of your family in such short time. I don't consider you a slut, not even a spoiled girl, but somebody who also has a right to be happy. But I don't consider myself worthy of you, not only because I am ugly, but because I am not strong enough to face what you have gone through."

"All right. Let's talk about your closing arguments, yes, your closing arguments! We made you deliver it, not only so you would inspire pity to the jury, but so that they could see the clients through you, and that only could be achieved because you were very convincing, recovering soon from your shyness. You succeeded where I failed. That, in my book, is strength!"

He turned around to look at me timidly, and upon seeing that I also had tears in my eyes, because I spilled my soul in my last words, he hugged me and it was his turn to comfort me, whispering to me while he caressed my cheeks and my back with desperate fondness:

"No, Sandy! Don't you cry! I love you! There, I said it!"

"I always knew it. I love you too, I love you a lot; I really love you!"

We allowed us to cry freely, and we even devoured each other's tears with frenzied but soft kisses. We got excited to the point of beginning to make love without foreplay, inserting his penis in my vagina without reaching for a condom. He stroked inside slowly, allowing himself time to kiss my lips and caress my breasts; the act no longer resembled a hardcore pornographic movie but a soft romantic one. I had a very delicate and refreshing orgasm while he ejaculated inside me, and we then got up lazily and we washed a little, to have dinner and rest afterwards.

Verdict:

Milton is also a sensitive soul. Except because he doesn't like opera, he is very cultivated and intelligent. It was much easier to fall in love with his mind than with his body, but when I came to really feel it, we knew that this would last forever.

One night, somebody called at my house, and upon answering, I didn't recognize the voice. At first, I thought that it was somebody who requested our services because he or she was arrested by the police or had suffered an accident. But the person called me by my first name and he wanted me to come to Raymond's house. I guessed that it was a neighbor, and that the boss needed medical attention. But he insisted:

"Don't be afraid, but please come alone. I will explain everything to you here."

I got dressed without waking up Milton, I took the sports car, and upon arriving to the door, I called, making the least possible noise. A young half-naked man received me, with certain effeminate features, who requested much discretion from me for what I was about to see, before letting me go to the room. There he was, like sleeping face down and totally naked. But upon coming closer, I realized that something was very wrong and I demanded from the guy: