Legsley
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Tracy's Legs free porn video
Life sometimes strikes you with insights at the most inopportune of moments, and I’m sure it takes the greatest pleasure in your despair when it dangles the fruits of these revelations just out of reach. It shapes ordinary moments into mystical experiences and drives frozen spears of longing through your heart, time and time again.
And the devious, experienced bitch life is, it doesn’t give you any hints about what it has in store, even though you’ll find that, in hindsight, there never was a choice. Things are set up long before you can have the slightest idea of what is to come and where it is going to lead you, and it’s never what you expected. The moment when I noticed - strike that, when my eyes were entranced and captivated by - Tracy’s legs was such an insight, and where it lead… well, that is what you’re about to read.
*
It started to go downhill one day after work. Trudy had been needling me about an after-hour drink all week, and on Friday, I couldn’t find excuses anymore - not that I didn’t try. If life is the biggest bitch, Trudy’s a sure runner-up. She’s only two years my senior, both in age and time at the firm, and that fact unfortunately got her the office head position, allowing her to cherry-pick her work and leave the rest of us with the long hours and complicated cases.
She acted as if she owned the company, barking orders at us all the time. Adding to that, she was nosy as hell, which was why she insisted on some “bonding time” after work, and after she had run the idea by Mr. Morris, our boss, there was no way circumventing it for me unless I wanted to be branded as an anti-social troublemaker. Especially as Morris ate out of her hand. Well, she was blond, tall and lean, while the rest of us were average brunettes or, like me, black haired and slightly plump. She only had to wiggle her chest and he agreed with her.
So it was with no little reluctance that I entered the passenger side of her car. I always went to work on the subway, so it was either walk or let her drive us. If it had been anyone else, I’d probably have been happy to get a ride in a brand new blue BMW sports car - but it was hers, and she rubbed the fact that it was fully paid into our faces on a regular basis, while I had to struggle to make ends meet with just the downtown flat and no car at all.
The belt buckle hadn’t even completely ratcheted into the socket when we shot out of the parking space with screeching tires, and I clutched the handhold above the door with both hands.
“Whoa!” I tried to protest, but the air was pushed from my lungs when she swerved, accelerated and braked abruptly through the rush hour traffic. It was dark already, and the street was moist and reflecting the other cars’ lights harshly, making it difficult for me to see the lines on the asphalt. My heart hammered like mad, and it took all I had not to whimper in fright while the engine whined and growled like a mad beast.
Trudy grinned and spun the steering wheel with one hand. “Oh come on, relax,” she told me with a smirk. “You look like you’re about to pee yourself.”
“Can’t you… oof… go a little slower?” I asked while we came to a screeching halt in front of a red traffic light.
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
And we were off again, and it suddenly dawned to me that I had no idea where we were going. Macy’s Bar, the regular meeting spot for people from our firm, was only two blocks down from the office, so we had long shot past it. I didn’t get to ask though, not until we entered a big, crowded parking space and the car shot into a free slot.
“Whew,” I whispered, sighing in relief and swiping away the sheen of sweat that had formed on my forehead.
I had to stumble after her across the paved parking space and cursed both the stilettos I had put on to give myself a height advantage and the tight skirt that made bigger steps impossible. I was breathing hard by the time we entered through the door. Music sounded from inside and a big, scruffy looking, leather-clad guy held out his hand from behind a counter. Trudy handed him a twenty dollar bill.
“Have fun, ladies,” he greeted and sat back onto a high chair.
It was a dance club, and it was already filling up even though it was just past seven. Pop music blared from the speakers, bright lights flickered and moved, and I let myself be led towards a booth at the back of the club by Trudy.
I fell onto the cushioned, high-backed bench and sighed in relief. I wasn’t used to fast walks in such high heels and they were wreaking havoc on my poor feet. Wiggling my toes, I got back my breath and looked at Trudy.
She smiled, but that smile didn’t reach her eyes. She held up a hand and waved, and a second later an eager waitress was at our table.
Trudy ordered before the pretty blond could ask what we’d like. “A glass of white wine, Chardonnay if you have it, for me, and a Long Island Iced Tea for my friend.”
“Hey,” I interjected, but Trudy simply waved the girl off and stared at me with tightening lips. My words trailed off.
“Let me make this clear,” she stated in a low voice, “I normally have better things to do on weekends than hanging out with co-workers with a too high self-esteem. I know about the times you went to Mr. Morris and tried to make me look bad.”
I tried to hide the shock at her words. Had Morris told her about it himself? I had counted on at least a bit of confidentiality. I felt my jaw tighten. “First, it was you who insisted on us going out, and second, I haven’t told him anything that isn’t true.”
“Is that so?” Her eyebrow went up, but just then the waitress was back with our drinks.
“Enjoy!”
“Thank you.” Trudy raised her glass, and I had to follow her example and clink mine to hers.
I was just sucking on the straw when she started talking again, and I choked on the strong drink when her words sunk in.
“Do you remember Tracy?”
My heart hammered so hard, I could feel the pulse in my neck. “Tracy?” I tried to play it dumb. “Tracy… oh, you mean the intern?” Of course I remembered petite, pretty Tracy, her slender and incredibly long legs and the daily changing overknee stockings that left a teasing handful of soft, creamy flesh visible and made hearts beat faster wherever she went and wiggled her tight, shapely bum. “She left rather abruptly.”
Something almost gleeful flickered over Trudy’s eyes, and my chest constricted. She couldn’t know, could she?
I hadn’t seen her pull the paper sheet out of her purse that she put on the table and slid in front of me. My heart stopped and the blood rushed in my ears like a waterfall. One glance was enough to ascertain that I knew these words. They were mine, a neat printout of my most intimate thoughts which I had thought safely and soundly hidden away in my Google account.
“You should always lock your computer, dear Jenny.” Sarcasm trickled from Trudy’s tongue like sticky honey. “Oh, Tracy,” she began to recite my words in a mocking, ethereal sing-song, “you have no idea what you do to me each day, how you torture me with your beautiful legs. Every second of your presence makes me want to fall to my knees and worship their soft skin, run my lips all over...”
Her voice trailed off and my face turned beet red. “What…” My own voice broke, and I had to clear my throat. This was so personal and enraging and embarrassing. “You’ve got no right to…”
“I might not. But I don’t care!”
“Oh god. What do you want?”
Her face brightened. “I want a nice, friendly colleague who does what she’s told at work and never protests when she’s assigned work.” She tilted her head. “One who makes sure my coffee is ready when I arrive at work, who fetches me lunch and is generally doing her best to make my job easier.”
“You want a slave?”
“Now, there’s quite a difference still between a dedicated co-worker and a slave. Let me offer you a deal.” She waved her hand, and when I looked in the direction she gestured at, the protests already on the tip of my tongue died.
“Tracy!” My lips formed her name without conscious thought. There she was, wearing black and grey patterned over-knee stockings and matching black, gleaming leather boots that hugged her calves intimately. She was walking in our directions and looking directly into my eyes, meticulously setting one foot in front of the other and softly rubbing her thighs together with each step.
And she came closer. I froze on my seat, wondering if she was about to sit down next to me, but she slid my drink to the side and stepped onto the bench, swung one of these perfect legs over my legs and set down right in front of me, her thighs slightly parted and two bands of naked skin crying out for my touch from just inches away.
“Trudy told me that you’re a very naughty woman, Jenny,” she purred.
I felt my chest heave.
“She told me you were staring at me all the time, ogling me, thinking wicked things.”
I tried everything to keep my emotions in check, but I couldn’t even come up with something to think of. All there was were these legs, slender and long and oh-so-soft and perfectly shaped.
“Is that true, Jenny?”
I managed to lift my head and look her in the face, though embarrassment tinged my skin deep red and made it burn. She was such a pretty thing, with huge, blue eyes and narrow lips that nonetheless seemed to be about to form a kiss all the time. With her eighteen years, she still radiated the innocence of youth, but her eyes twinkled with excitement when she repeated her question. “Is it true, Jenny? Did you think naughty thoughts about me?”
“Oh god, yes!” The words came out in a sharp breath and my heart galloped wildly before I grasped the enormity of my admission and tried to backtrack. “No! I mean, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t?” Trudy’s voice interrupted my rambling. “I think it’s already too late to think about that. You did, and we know it. You’ve been dreaming of touching her legs for months.” I was staring at her like a deer in the headlights, and when she put her index finger under my skin and pointed my head towards sweet Tracy, I could offer no resistance. “Today’s the day. Touch her. Feel her. Come on, we all know how much you want to.”
I couldn’t believe it. It felt like a surreal dream. But when I stared at Tracy, she nodded, pulling up the corner of her mouth into a cute half-grin. “Go on,” she too urged, “touch me. Feel me. Be wicked!”
For a second, my eyes flickered left and right, looking for an exit, but the maze in which I had been caught was all in my head. And like in a true maze, I had only one way left to go. My fingers trembled like mad when I lifted my hands, and my breath raced when their tips touched the soft fabric of her stockings just above her knees.
She kept smiling. Had she flinched or shied away, I’d have fled like the devil was after me. But she just winked, and my fingers roamed higher and higher over tight muscles until they encountered the softest of skin. I traced the seams of her stockings and was rewarded with a soft, pleasant sigh, so I got more daring and painted little circles on these bands of perfect skin.
“Do you want to kiss them?” Tracy whispered softly, prompting an eager nod from me. “Don’t stop yet. You can go farther up, too.”
Suddenly, Trudy was sitting close to me. “Keep caressing her thighs,” she whispered into my ear, “show her how much you adore her.”
I did, letting my fingers roam under Tracy’s tight skirt and stroking her gently. My hands tingled wherever they touched her skin, and I couldn’t suppress the soft, joyous moan that bubbled up in my throat.
“Do you know why Tracy had to leave so quickly?”
I shook my head.
“Morris found out by accident that she’s working as an escort.”
My breath hitched. An escort?
“So he fired her on the spot, company reputation and such. But I had already found your little love letter, and things just fell into place...”
I was trembling. I couldn’t be that this perfect angel was a hooker. But she didn’t protest, no, instead she wiggled the hem of her skirt up higher and higher, and I could see the satiny black fabric of her thong stretch over her full mound, framed by perfect, creamy thighs.
“Does my naughty colleague want to kiss them all over, cover her soft, young thighs with her slobber? Perhaps she’d want to kiss even more of her, do wicked, naughty things?” Trudy’s voice was mocking, but I couldn’t care.
“God, yes! Please!”
Suddenly, Tracy’s fingers were around my wrists and lifting my hands just far enough away that I couldn’t touch her. “Everything comes with a price. Mine’s a thousand dollars, then you can have me for a night.”
A night with her? The image exploded in moist, warm sparkles between my legs, but then reality slapped me across the face with an ice-cold hand.
“I…” I hung my head, the feeling of loss almost driving tears into my eyes. “I don’t have that much.”
“But that’s where I come in,” Trudy whispered next to me. “I’ll buy her as a… gift, of sorts.”
“You’d…” I stared at her. There was no softness in her eyes. “What do you get out of it?”
“I’ll get to watch…” Again, she tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “...and to take photos.”
“No!” I protested. “No photos!”
“No photos, no Tracy. It’s easy. But just imagine, you could have her for a whole night. Can you imagine how it would be to slide the stockings down her pretty, young legs, to kiss and lick every inch of her skin, over and over, to taste every part of her that you want to?”
Fuck, she knew which buttons to press. But with the photos, I’d be her puppet. If Morris saw those, I could pack my things. I had to resist...
Tracy leaned close and I could smell her flowery, sweet scent. For a moment, I felt dizzy, then she was whispering into my ear. “I’ve seen you stare at my bum. You could kiss it too, lick it, hell, even bite it.”
Her lips came close enough to touch my ear, and my whole body burned up with lust.
“I think you’re a very naughty woman. Perhaps… yes, I think I’d ask you to kiss me between my bum cheeks. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, to worship that tight, dirty, forbidden little ring?”
I moaned. This was my most depraved fantasy, one I had relived over and over before falling asleep while my fingers flew in and out of my gushing snatch and my thumb flicked deliciously over my clit. Tracy knew.
“I’d ask you to stick that soft tongue of yours inside, to wiggle it inside my bum, and I’d moan and whimper and gasp with delight. It would be glorious, and naughty. Please.” She slid down from the table’s edge and sat on my lap. Her thumbs brushed my cheeks and left burning lines of desire, and the pretty, pouting lips were just an inch from mine. “Please say yes!”
“Yes!” It was a gasp, barely more than a whisper, with which I admitted defeat.
I couldn’t resist her. For long weeks, my mind had recalled every little detail of her that it could remember, and each evening had been filled with whispers of her name. Tracy. It had become both a synonym of perfection and a mantra that unleashed every naughty thought I’d ever had.
I noticed that we were walking, or on my part stumbling drunkenly after a perfect set of legs, down a corridor. Tracy unlocked a door and stepped inside, gesturing at us to follow her.
The room was rather spartan, but clean. Against one wall stood a large bed with a dark wooden frame. Next to it was a small dresser, and a small door on the opposite wall probably lead to a bathroom.
“Staff overnight room. One can rent it from them when they don’t need it,” Tracy explained towards Trudy and held out her hand. A wad of money was pushed into it, which she stowed away in her small purse.
She kicked away her shoes, unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor and plopped down on the bed on her front, her finger beckoning me closer.
I felt torn. It was a huge mistake, I knew that, but she splayed her legs and teasingly ran a finger along the hem of her stocking, looking at me over her shoulder, biting her lip and fluttering her lashes, and when she whispered, “Come here, wicked Jenny,” my last resistance crumbled to dust.
Her thighs were spectacular, but her bum - it made all words seem too shallow to do it justice. Ripe and firm, two half-orbs shimmered softly, wiggled when she tensed her leg and begged me to touch them. I was mesmerized by the cute, small crease between bum cheek and leg, and I could already picture my tongue tracing it with loving dedication. Step by step, I approached her, and my breaths became shallow and fast.
“Slowly,” Tracy whispered, and like a worshiper in front of their goddess, I sank to my knees on the bed, right between her calves, and bent forward with held breath.
I wrote something about mystical experiences at the beginning of my retelling, and mystical rapture was what I felt when my fingers were allowed to unveil her soft, toned thighs. Inch by inch I slid down the seams and drank in her perfection, heart beating like mad and giddy excitement mixing with the magic of the moment and making the butterflies in my tummy whirl and glow.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. “So incredibly beautiful.”
When her left stocking finally slipped from her foot and I could drop it to the floor, there was no holding back. My lips descended to her heel, and I started to trail the softest kisses up the backside of her leg, in between which the mantra of, “Beautiful!” floated from my lips. God, how lovely she giggled when my lips travelled over the hollow of her knee.
I forgot all about Trudy’s presence, even though the flashes of her camera accompanied my lips’ travel. My being was filled with the softness and warmth of Tracy’s skin, and my heart jubilated with joy.
“Fuck,” I heard the object of my admiration exclaim, “she’s a tease! Do my other leg!”
I could have done this for hours, licked and kissed her legs, but when I reached the top of her right leg, she demanded a change of pace.
“Lick my bum hole. You’ve gotten me hot, now show me what a dirty woman you are!”
It was dirty, indeed. But I loved it, loved every second when I buried my face between her bum cheeks and wiggled my tongue past her panties’ string and through the resilient ring of muscle, spurred on by her moans and gasps. I felt her fingers graze my chin. She was masturbating while I kissed and licked her anus, and when I her pucker finally gave way and allowed all of my tongue inside, she gave the prettiest little whimpers of delight.
I can’t recall if she came like this, because this was only the beginning. A little later, we were both completely naked, and I kissed every little patch of skin on her before delving right between her legs and tasting her nectar from its source.
She licked me too and fingered me at the same time, until my world exploded in an incredible climax, and then I licked her again while she rode my face. Somewhere along the way, Trudy had written, “Tracy’s slut” on my stomach with bright red lipstick, but I didn’t care.
This was everything I had been dreaming of, and more. At Tracy’s urging, I slid my dripping snatch back and forth on her thigh while she plastered my breasts with little bites. With only little breaks, we made love the whole night, and Trudy captured every depraved thing we did with her camera.
*
Before, I had been infatuated with beautiful, young Tracy, and her legs in particular. Now, I was addicted, and even though we were both completely spent, I craved to feel her slender fingers stir my dripping pot of honey and to lick them clean afterwards, and to cover her long legs with a glistening coating of saliva.
But all good things come to an end, and at six in the morning, Tracy left.
Trudy looked me up and down from her place on the edge of the bed, a contemplative look in her eyes.
“What?” I asked, exhausted and beyond caring that she saw me in all my naked, smeared glory.
“I think I should change the rules a bit.”
“Which rules?” All I wanted was to sleep, not talk.
“Rules about what I’m going to expect from you in return for certain pictures staying private.”
“What do you mean?”
The smirk she sent me made me feel uneasy. “I’m not into girls. Well, not normally. But you seem to be quite good at licking a snatch. And watching you two go at it all night has made me horny as hell.”
It took a second for the meaning to penetrate my mind. “I… I mean… You? But you said it was only about work!”
“I know, but I’ve changed my mind.” She stood up, and her skirt dropped to the floor.
My breath hitched. Was she really expecting me…
“Well, I don’t want it said that I left you no choice,” she giggled while she slipped off her pantyhose. “You can refuse. But if you show me how skilled your dirty tongue is when I need it, I’ll sponsor another little tryst with Tracy next month. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
It had only been half an hour since we had stopped our lovemaking, but Tracy’s name already kindled a fresh flame of desire.
Her panties, black, lacy and expensive looking, followed the pantyhose’s path. She wasn’t bad looking, in fact, she looked better than I had expected. Obviously, she worked out, and she had a nice all-over tan. Her pussy with covered by a soft, dark, neatly trimmed bush, and moisture glistened on the thin rosy petals that peeked through her outer labia.
I only hesitated a moment after she lay down on the bed. “I’m so going to rue this,” I murmured while my mouth approached her pussy and her strong scent filled my nose.
“Every day,” she promised, her voice thick with excitement. “I’ll make sure to rub it in.”
My tongue licked a wet trail through her slippery slit, and her giggle at the bad pun was cut short by a delighted gasp.
If I closed my eyes, ignored the sounds and didn’t think too much, I could almost imagine it was Tracy’s perfect pussy I was licking.
*
The first few days at work, my cheeks never stopped glowing with shame. Trudy’s appetite for sexual attention by my lips and tongue skyrocketed, and I worked “over-hours” every day, on my knees in her office and with her juices dripping from my chin. She quickly learned to love my ministrations on her backside too, so much that she started whispering, “My little ass-licker!” into my ear every time she passed by me in the office.
After a week, Miranda, who worked at the the desk opposite mine, stopped talking to me because I was ‘consorting with the enemy’. My other colleague, Hanna, joined her a week later, not wanting to associate with bootlickers. Going through the day like this was hard, but by then, I had already made it halfway to another night with Tracy, and I could already see her in my minds eye, long legs clad in teasing stockings and her bum wiggling prettily at me.
*
Morris can never see these photos. I could easily find an equal job, but I can’t give up Tracy. So I make sure to read every wish from Trudy’s eyes. If she tells me to jump, I ask, “How high?” And if she tells me to stick my tongue where the sun never shines, I fall to my knees and worship her pucker as if it is the most delicious thing in the world.
Is this wrong? Perhaps, but I’ve never felt so much arousal before. I’ve had to buy dildos and vibrators to quench the flames that keep burning between my legs enough to fall asleep every day. And once a month, I spend the night with the girl with the most beautiful legs in the world.
Last week, Trudy once again accompanied me on my date, and while I licked my beloved’s pussy, she fucked me with a strap-on. I found it surprisingly satisfying and intimate - on top of kinky and slightly painful and extremely exciting. And after I had come like a supernova, I had - just for a second, mind you - contemplated kissing her. Something’s changing in the dynamics.
But I’ve got to go now. It’s six in the evening and everyone but Trudy and me has left. Today, she brought the same, over-sized purse to work she had with her on our date, and I’ve got a good idea about what’s inside.
I’ll have to steel myself, so I don’t slip up when she makes me cum again in some kinky, forbidden way, and watches me with that fond smile while I writhe and moan. I can’t tell the bitch that I love her, as I have no idea how that would affect Tracy and me. I’ll just keep playing the reluctant part.
I start opening my blouse while I enter Trudy’s office. The window blinds are already shut, the room is filled with warm light from the table lamp and a swarm of butterflies tickles the insides of my tummy. I’m such a slut.
“You were a good girl today,” she tells me, and I’m aware that I shouldn’t feel this giddy warmth inside me at her praise.
And the devious, experienced bitch life is, it doesn’t give you any hints about what it has in store, even though you’ll find that, in hindsight, there never was a choice. Things are set up long before you can have the slightest idea of what is to come and where it is going to lead you, and it’s never what you expected. The moment when I noticed - strike that, when my eyes were entranced and captivated by - Tracy’s legs was such an insight, and where it lead… well, that is what you’re about to read.
*
It started to go downhill one day after work. Trudy had been needling me about an after-hour drink all week, and on Friday, I couldn’t find excuses anymore - not that I didn’t try. If life is the biggest bitch, Trudy’s a sure runner-up. She’s only two years my senior, both in age and time at the firm, and that fact unfortunately got her the office head position, allowing her to cherry-pick her work and leave the rest of us with the long hours and complicated cases.
She acted as if she owned the company, barking orders at us all the time. Adding to that, she was nosy as hell, which was why she insisted on some “bonding time” after work, and after she had run the idea by Mr. Morris, our boss, there was no way circumventing it for me unless I wanted to be branded as an anti-social troublemaker. Especially as Morris ate out of her hand. Well, she was blond, tall and lean, while the rest of us were average brunettes or, like me, black haired and slightly plump. She only had to wiggle her chest and he agreed with her.
So it was with no little reluctance that I entered the passenger side of her car. I always went to work on the subway, so it was either walk or let her drive us. If it had been anyone else, I’d probably have been happy to get a ride in a brand new blue BMW sports car - but it was hers, and she rubbed the fact that it was fully paid into our faces on a regular basis, while I had to struggle to make ends meet with just the downtown flat and no car at all.
The belt buckle hadn’t even completely ratcheted into the socket when we shot out of the parking space with screeching tires, and I clutched the handhold above the door with both hands.
“Whoa!” I tried to protest, but the air was pushed from my lungs when she swerved, accelerated and braked abruptly through the rush hour traffic. It was dark already, and the street was moist and reflecting the other cars’ lights harshly, making it difficult for me to see the lines on the asphalt. My heart hammered like mad, and it took all I had not to whimper in fright while the engine whined and growled like a mad beast.
Trudy grinned and spun the steering wheel with one hand. “Oh come on, relax,” she told me with a smirk. “You look like you’re about to pee yourself.”
“Can’t you… oof… go a little slower?” I asked while we came to a screeching halt in front of a red traffic light.
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
And we were off again, and it suddenly dawned to me that I had no idea where we were going. Macy’s Bar, the regular meeting spot for people from our firm, was only two blocks down from the office, so we had long shot past it. I didn’t get to ask though, not until we entered a big, crowded parking space and the car shot into a free slot.
“Whew,” I whispered, sighing in relief and swiping away the sheen of sweat that had formed on my forehead.
I had to stumble after her across the paved parking space and cursed both the stilettos I had put on to give myself a height advantage and the tight skirt that made bigger steps impossible. I was breathing hard by the time we entered through the door. Music sounded from inside and a big, scruffy looking, leather-clad guy held out his hand from behind a counter. Trudy handed him a twenty dollar bill.
“Have fun, ladies,” he greeted and sat back onto a high chair.
It was a dance club, and it was already filling up even though it was just past seven. Pop music blared from the speakers, bright lights flickered and moved, and I let myself be led towards a booth at the back of the club by Trudy.
I fell onto the cushioned, high-backed bench and sighed in relief. I wasn’t used to fast walks in such high heels and they were wreaking havoc on my poor feet. Wiggling my toes, I got back my breath and looked at Trudy.
She smiled, but that smile didn’t reach her eyes. She held up a hand and waved, and a second later an eager waitress was at our table.
Trudy ordered before the pretty blond could ask what we’d like. “A glass of white wine, Chardonnay if you have it, for me, and a Long Island Iced Tea for my friend.”
“Hey,” I interjected, but Trudy simply waved the girl off and stared at me with tightening lips. My words trailed off.
“Let me make this clear,” she stated in a low voice, “I normally have better things to do on weekends than hanging out with co-workers with a too high self-esteem. I know about the times you went to Mr. Morris and tried to make me look bad.”
I tried to hide the shock at her words. Had Morris told her about it himself? I had counted on at least a bit of confidentiality. I felt my jaw tighten. “First, it was you who insisted on us going out, and second, I haven’t told him anything that isn’t true.”
“Is that so?” Her eyebrow went up, but just then the waitress was back with our drinks.
“Enjoy!”
“Thank you.” Trudy raised her glass, and I had to follow her example and clink mine to hers.
I was just sucking on the straw when she started talking again, and I choked on the strong drink when her words sunk in.
“Do you remember Tracy?”
My heart hammered so hard, I could feel the pulse in my neck. “Tracy?” I tried to play it dumb. “Tracy… oh, you mean the intern?” Of course I remembered petite, pretty Tracy, her slender and incredibly long legs and the daily changing overknee stockings that left a teasing handful of soft, creamy flesh visible and made hearts beat faster wherever she went and wiggled her tight, shapely bum. “She left rather abruptly.”
Something almost gleeful flickered over Trudy’s eyes, and my chest constricted. She couldn’t know, could she?
I hadn’t seen her pull the paper sheet out of her purse that she put on the table and slid in front of me. My heart stopped and the blood rushed in my ears like a waterfall. One glance was enough to ascertain that I knew these words. They were mine, a neat printout of my most intimate thoughts which I had thought safely and soundly hidden away in my Google account.
“You should always lock your computer, dear Jenny.” Sarcasm trickled from Trudy’s tongue like sticky honey. “Oh, Tracy,” she began to recite my words in a mocking, ethereal sing-song, “you have no idea what you do to me each day, how you torture me with your beautiful legs. Every second of your presence makes me want to fall to my knees and worship their soft skin, run my lips all over...”
Her voice trailed off and my face turned beet red. “What…” My own voice broke, and I had to clear my throat. This was so personal and enraging and embarrassing. “You’ve got no right to…”
“I might not. But I don’t care!”
“Oh god. What do you want?”
Her face brightened. “I want a nice, friendly colleague who does what she’s told at work and never protests when she’s assigned work.” She tilted her head. “One who makes sure my coffee is ready when I arrive at work, who fetches me lunch and is generally doing her best to make my job easier.”
“You want a slave?”
“Now, there’s quite a difference still between a dedicated co-worker and a slave. Let me offer you a deal.” She waved her hand, and when I looked in the direction she gestured at, the protests already on the tip of my tongue died.
“Tracy!” My lips formed her name without conscious thought. There she was, wearing black and grey patterned over-knee stockings and matching black, gleaming leather boots that hugged her calves intimately. She was walking in our directions and looking directly into my eyes, meticulously setting one foot in front of the other and softly rubbing her thighs together with each step.
And she came closer. I froze on my seat, wondering if she was about to sit down next to me, but she slid my drink to the side and stepped onto the bench, swung one of these perfect legs over my legs and set down right in front of me, her thighs slightly parted and two bands of naked skin crying out for my touch from just inches away.
“Trudy told me that you’re a very naughty woman, Jenny,” she purred.
I felt my chest heave.
“She told me you were staring at me all the time, ogling me, thinking wicked things.”
I tried everything to keep my emotions in check, but I couldn’t even come up with something to think of. All there was were these legs, slender and long and oh-so-soft and perfectly shaped.
“Is that true, Jenny?”
I managed to lift my head and look her in the face, though embarrassment tinged my skin deep red and made it burn. She was such a pretty thing, with huge, blue eyes and narrow lips that nonetheless seemed to be about to form a kiss all the time. With her eighteen years, she still radiated the innocence of youth, but her eyes twinkled with excitement when she repeated her question. “Is it true, Jenny? Did you think naughty thoughts about me?”
“Oh god, yes!” The words came out in a sharp breath and my heart galloped wildly before I grasped the enormity of my admission and tried to backtrack. “No! I mean, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t?” Trudy’s voice interrupted my rambling. “I think it’s already too late to think about that. You did, and we know it. You’ve been dreaming of touching her legs for months.” I was staring at her like a deer in the headlights, and when she put her index finger under my skin and pointed my head towards sweet Tracy, I could offer no resistance. “Today’s the day. Touch her. Feel her. Come on, we all know how much you want to.”
I couldn’t believe it. It felt like a surreal dream. But when I stared at Tracy, she nodded, pulling up the corner of her mouth into a cute half-grin. “Go on,” she too urged, “touch me. Feel me. Be wicked!”
For a second, my eyes flickered left and right, looking for an exit, but the maze in which I had been caught was all in my head. And like in a true maze, I had only one way left to go. My fingers trembled like mad when I lifted my hands, and my breath raced when their tips touched the soft fabric of her stockings just above her knees.
She kept smiling. Had she flinched or shied away, I’d have fled like the devil was after me. But she just winked, and my fingers roamed higher and higher over tight muscles until they encountered the softest of skin. I traced the seams of her stockings and was rewarded with a soft, pleasant sigh, so I got more daring and painted little circles on these bands of perfect skin.
“Do you want to kiss them?” Tracy whispered softly, prompting an eager nod from me. “Don’t stop yet. You can go farther up, too.”
Suddenly, Trudy was sitting close to me. “Keep caressing her thighs,” she whispered into my ear, “show her how much you adore her.”
I did, letting my fingers roam under Tracy’s tight skirt and stroking her gently. My hands tingled wherever they touched her skin, and I couldn’t suppress the soft, joyous moan that bubbled up in my throat.
“Do you know why Tracy had to leave so quickly?”
I shook my head.
“Morris found out by accident that she’s working as an escort.”
My breath hitched. An escort?
“So he fired her on the spot, company reputation and such. But I had already found your little love letter, and things just fell into place...”
I was trembling. I couldn’t be that this perfect angel was a hooker. But she didn’t protest, no, instead she wiggled the hem of her skirt up higher and higher, and I could see the satiny black fabric of her thong stretch over her full mound, framed by perfect, creamy thighs.
“Does my naughty colleague want to kiss them all over, cover her soft, young thighs with her slobber? Perhaps she’d want to kiss even more of her, do wicked, naughty things?” Trudy’s voice was mocking, but I couldn’t care.
“God, yes! Please!”
Suddenly, Tracy’s fingers were around my wrists and lifting my hands just far enough away that I couldn’t touch her. “Everything comes with a price. Mine’s a thousand dollars, then you can have me for a night.”
A night with her? The image exploded in moist, warm sparkles between my legs, but then reality slapped me across the face with an ice-cold hand.
“I…” I hung my head, the feeling of loss almost driving tears into my eyes. “I don’t have that much.”
“But that’s where I come in,” Trudy whispered next to me. “I’ll buy her as a… gift, of sorts.”
“You’d…” I stared at her. There was no softness in her eyes. “What do you get out of it?”
“I’ll get to watch…” Again, she tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “...and to take photos.”
“No!” I protested. “No photos!”
“No photos, no Tracy. It’s easy. But just imagine, you could have her for a whole night. Can you imagine how it would be to slide the stockings down her pretty, young legs, to kiss and lick every inch of her skin, over and over, to taste every part of her that you want to?”
Fuck, she knew which buttons to press. But with the photos, I’d be her puppet. If Morris saw those, I could pack my things. I had to resist...
Tracy leaned close and I could smell her flowery, sweet scent. For a moment, I felt dizzy, then she was whispering into my ear. “I’ve seen you stare at my bum. You could kiss it too, lick it, hell, even bite it.”
Her lips came close enough to touch my ear, and my whole body burned up with lust.
“I think you’re a very naughty woman. Perhaps… yes, I think I’d ask you to kiss me between my bum cheeks. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, to worship that tight, dirty, forbidden little ring?”
I moaned. This was my most depraved fantasy, one I had relived over and over before falling asleep while my fingers flew in and out of my gushing snatch and my thumb flicked deliciously over my clit. Tracy knew.
“I’d ask you to stick that soft tongue of yours inside, to wiggle it inside my bum, and I’d moan and whimper and gasp with delight. It would be glorious, and naughty. Please.” She slid down from the table’s edge and sat on my lap. Her thumbs brushed my cheeks and left burning lines of desire, and the pretty, pouting lips were just an inch from mine. “Please say yes!”
“Yes!” It was a gasp, barely more than a whisper, with which I admitted defeat.
I couldn’t resist her. For long weeks, my mind had recalled every little detail of her that it could remember, and each evening had been filled with whispers of her name. Tracy. It had become both a synonym of perfection and a mantra that unleashed every naughty thought I’d ever had.
I noticed that we were walking, or on my part stumbling drunkenly after a perfect set of legs, down a corridor. Tracy unlocked a door and stepped inside, gesturing at us to follow her.
The room was rather spartan, but clean. Against one wall stood a large bed with a dark wooden frame. Next to it was a small dresser, and a small door on the opposite wall probably lead to a bathroom.
“Staff overnight room. One can rent it from them when they don’t need it,” Tracy explained towards Trudy and held out her hand. A wad of money was pushed into it, which she stowed away in her small purse.
She kicked away her shoes, unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor and plopped down on the bed on her front, her finger beckoning me closer.
I felt torn. It was a huge mistake, I knew that, but she splayed her legs and teasingly ran a finger along the hem of her stocking, looking at me over her shoulder, biting her lip and fluttering her lashes, and when she whispered, “Come here, wicked Jenny,” my last resistance crumbled to dust.
Her thighs were spectacular, but her bum - it made all words seem too shallow to do it justice. Ripe and firm, two half-orbs shimmered softly, wiggled when she tensed her leg and begged me to touch them. I was mesmerized by the cute, small crease between bum cheek and leg, and I could already picture my tongue tracing it with loving dedication. Step by step, I approached her, and my breaths became shallow and fast.
“Slowly,” Tracy whispered, and like a worshiper in front of their goddess, I sank to my knees on the bed, right between her calves, and bent forward with held breath.
I wrote something about mystical experiences at the beginning of my retelling, and mystical rapture was what I felt when my fingers were allowed to unveil her soft, toned thighs. Inch by inch I slid down the seams and drank in her perfection, heart beating like mad and giddy excitement mixing with the magic of the moment and making the butterflies in my tummy whirl and glow.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. “So incredibly beautiful.”
When her left stocking finally slipped from her foot and I could drop it to the floor, there was no holding back. My lips descended to her heel, and I started to trail the softest kisses up the backside of her leg, in between which the mantra of, “Beautiful!” floated from my lips. God, how lovely she giggled when my lips travelled over the hollow of her knee.
I forgot all about Trudy’s presence, even though the flashes of her camera accompanied my lips’ travel. My being was filled with the softness and warmth of Tracy’s skin, and my heart jubilated with joy.
“Fuck,” I heard the object of my admiration exclaim, “she’s a tease! Do my other leg!”
I could have done this for hours, licked and kissed her legs, but when I reached the top of her right leg, she demanded a change of pace.
“Lick my bum hole. You’ve gotten me hot, now show me what a dirty woman you are!”
It was dirty, indeed. But I loved it, loved every second when I buried my face between her bum cheeks and wiggled my tongue past her panties’ string and through the resilient ring of muscle, spurred on by her moans and gasps. I felt her fingers graze my chin. She was masturbating while I kissed and licked her anus, and when I her pucker finally gave way and allowed all of my tongue inside, she gave the prettiest little whimpers of delight.
I can’t recall if she came like this, because this was only the beginning. A little later, we were both completely naked, and I kissed every little patch of skin on her before delving right between her legs and tasting her nectar from its source.
She licked me too and fingered me at the same time, until my world exploded in an incredible climax, and then I licked her again while she rode my face. Somewhere along the way, Trudy had written, “Tracy’s slut” on my stomach with bright red lipstick, but I didn’t care.
This was everything I had been dreaming of, and more. At Tracy’s urging, I slid my dripping snatch back and forth on her thigh while she plastered my breasts with little bites. With only little breaks, we made love the whole night, and Trudy captured every depraved thing we did with her camera.
*
Before, I had been infatuated with beautiful, young Tracy, and her legs in particular. Now, I was addicted, and even though we were both completely spent, I craved to feel her slender fingers stir my dripping pot of honey and to lick them clean afterwards, and to cover her long legs with a glistening coating of saliva.
But all good things come to an end, and at six in the morning, Tracy left.
Trudy looked me up and down from her place on the edge of the bed, a contemplative look in her eyes.
“What?” I asked, exhausted and beyond caring that she saw me in all my naked, smeared glory.
“I think I should change the rules a bit.”
“Which rules?” All I wanted was to sleep, not talk.
“Rules about what I’m going to expect from you in return for certain pictures staying private.”
“What do you mean?”
The smirk she sent me made me feel uneasy. “I’m not into girls. Well, not normally. But you seem to be quite good at licking a snatch. And watching you two go at it all night has made me horny as hell.”
It took a second for the meaning to penetrate my mind. “I… I mean… You? But you said it was only about work!”
“I know, but I’ve changed my mind.” She stood up, and her skirt dropped to the floor.
My breath hitched. Was she really expecting me…
“Well, I don’t want it said that I left you no choice,” she giggled while she slipped off her pantyhose. “You can refuse. But if you show me how skilled your dirty tongue is when I need it, I’ll sponsor another little tryst with Tracy next month. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
It had only been half an hour since we had stopped our lovemaking, but Tracy’s name already kindled a fresh flame of desire.
Her panties, black, lacy and expensive looking, followed the pantyhose’s path. She wasn’t bad looking, in fact, she looked better than I had expected. Obviously, she worked out, and she had a nice all-over tan. Her pussy with covered by a soft, dark, neatly trimmed bush, and moisture glistened on the thin rosy petals that peeked through her outer labia.
I only hesitated a moment after she lay down on the bed. “I’m so going to rue this,” I murmured while my mouth approached her pussy and her strong scent filled my nose.
“Every day,” she promised, her voice thick with excitement. “I’ll make sure to rub it in.”
My tongue licked a wet trail through her slippery slit, and her giggle at the bad pun was cut short by a delighted gasp.
If I closed my eyes, ignored the sounds and didn’t think too much, I could almost imagine it was Tracy’s perfect pussy I was licking.
*
The first few days at work, my cheeks never stopped glowing with shame. Trudy’s appetite for sexual attention by my lips and tongue skyrocketed, and I worked “over-hours” every day, on my knees in her office and with her juices dripping from my chin. She quickly learned to love my ministrations on her backside too, so much that she started whispering, “My little ass-licker!” into my ear every time she passed by me in the office.
After a week, Miranda, who worked at the the desk opposite mine, stopped talking to me because I was ‘consorting with the enemy’. My other colleague, Hanna, joined her a week later, not wanting to associate with bootlickers. Going through the day like this was hard, but by then, I had already made it halfway to another night with Tracy, and I could already see her in my minds eye, long legs clad in teasing stockings and her bum wiggling prettily at me.
*
Morris can never see these photos. I could easily find an equal job, but I can’t give up Tracy. So I make sure to read every wish from Trudy’s eyes. If she tells me to jump, I ask, “How high?” And if she tells me to stick my tongue where the sun never shines, I fall to my knees and worship her pucker as if it is the most delicious thing in the world.
Is this wrong? Perhaps, but I’ve never felt so much arousal before. I’ve had to buy dildos and vibrators to quench the flames that keep burning between my legs enough to fall asleep every day. And once a month, I spend the night with the girl with the most beautiful legs in the world.
Last week, Trudy once again accompanied me on my date, and while I licked my beloved’s pussy, she fucked me with a strap-on. I found it surprisingly satisfying and intimate - on top of kinky and slightly painful and extremely exciting. And after I had come like a supernova, I had - just for a second, mind you - contemplated kissing her. Something’s changing in the dynamics.
But I’ve got to go now. It’s six in the evening and everyone but Trudy and me has left. Today, she brought the same, over-sized purse to work she had with her on our date, and I’ve got a good idea about what’s inside.
I’ll have to steel myself, so I don’t slip up when she makes me cum again in some kinky, forbidden way, and watches me with that fond smile while I writhe and moan. I can’t tell the bitch that I love her, as I have no idea how that would affect Tracy and me. I’ll just keep playing the reluctant part.
I start opening my blouse while I enter Trudy’s office. The window blinds are already shut, the room is filled with warm light from the table lamp and a swarm of butterflies tickles the insides of my tummy. I’m such a slut.
“You were a good girl today,” she tells me, and I’m aware that I shouldn’t feel this giddy warmth inside me at her praise.
Hester
- 14.05.2020
- 10
- 0
- Category:
- Lesbian
