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Blog 2 free porn video
Blog 2
I was really pleased with my first attempt at a blog so after work I dashed round to Pippa's house to show her with a printed copy neatly folded in my handbag. It had, after all, been her idea in the first place and I sort of thought she'd be as excited about it as me.
So, we settled ourselves down at her dining room table with a nice cup of tea and I handed over the fruits of my labour.
Pippa has this little thing that she does with her mouth when she isn't entirely happy ... a small pursing of her lips that makes her nose twitch ever so slightly, and I've never told her about it because I've always enjoyed knowing a bit more about what she's thinking than she wants to let on.
There we're sat; Pippa's reading away, lips pursed and nose twitching as
she shuffles through the pages until finally she reaches the end, slaps
a huge fake smile on her face and announces:
"It's great."
"Really?"
"No, yes, it's really good."
"Pippa ... what is it?"
"Whadda ya mean?"
"You don't like it."
"No, I do ..."
She pauses the unsaid ‘but' left hanging in the air.
"Tell me."
She looks a little sheepish and then blurts:
"I thought I might be in it more."
Bloody, egocentric cow.
"But all we did together yesterday was have coffee and I did mention
that ... I mean, I can't really just write a blog about you and me
having coffee because nobody will read it."
"S'pose."
"What were you expecting? What did you think I'd write about you?"
"Dunno."
Her bottom lip is pouting sulkily now so I just stare at her, waiting
her out, knowing that if I stay silent long enough that she'll
eventually spit it out.
Silence.
Silence.
A huge sigh and ...
"I thought that you might like to write about some of the stuff we've
done; you know, in the past."
Aaaahhh.
So, just for you Pippa, here's a blog entry about "stuff we've done;
you know, in the past."
We're probably talking about six years ago. Before Pippa was with Jimmy
full time, she had her own flat in town and every so often we'd have a
girly night in ... sometimes there was a bunch of us but on this
occasion it was just her, me, a six pack of Czech lager, a bottle of
Sambuca, a couple of bottles of cheap wine, the biggest bag of toffee
popcorn you've ever seen in your life and Brad/Keanu/Patrick or Hugh
doing their stuff on the dvd player.
Not that we were really paying much attention to the tv ... mostly it
was Sambuca shots with beer chasers and lots and lots of giggling.
But all good things must come to an end and even six packs of Czech
lager run out eventually. Luckily we had a brainwave; we'd do Sambuca
shots with wine chasers. We both liked Sambuca, we both liked wine, it
was bound to be good.
Now, there is a possibility that by this point we were a little tipsy
and that maybe our judgement was not quite as sharp as it could have
been; certainly I remember being rather unstable on the short journey
from sofa to fridge to collect the wine and then having to be sent back
to find some glasses and then being sent back once again to go and get
the corkscrew ... which certainly dates it because every bottle of wine
I buy nowadays comes with a screw top.
So, I'm wobbling around in the kitchen trying to find the corkscrew.
I've been in here a million times but suddenly I have no idea where
anything is, and I'm going through drawer after drawer until ...
eureka, there it is ... and sitting right next to it is this huge,
black, double ended, dildo.
Well.
Heading back, I stop in the doorway in my best Miss World presenting
myself to the judges pose; you know, sort of half turned with the heel
of your right foot raised so that your thighs rub together and your
right knee juts forward; raise both my arms aloft and shout out:
"Lookee what I found."
Left hand corkscrew, right hand huge dong.
Well, I don't know what I expected from Pippa, but a huge grin cracks
across her face and she starts doing ‘gimmee hands' ... and I don't
believe it was the corkscrew she wanted. I chuck the dildo across to
her, slump down on my end of the sofa and set about trying to get the
corkscrew out of the bottle; which proved to be far more difficult than
it should have been mainly because Pippa is slurping noisily whilst
doing her best impression of deep throating her plastic friend.
Eventually, I end up pushing the cork into the bottle and manage to pour
us both a large one. We do a shot of Sambuca, chase it down with our
wine and I refill our glasses and all the while Pippa's waving the
dildo at me ...
"C'mon."
"What?"
"Take it."
"Why?"
Suddenly, despite the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream I'm a
little bit scared about what's going to happen next and what it is
Pippa expects from me.
"Take it."
She swings it again and this time I grab hold of ‘my' end and so there
we sit at separate ends of her sofa, a wine glass in one hand and the
double ended dildo hanging between us ... both physically and
metaphorically. Pippa cracks a grin, dips ‘her' head into her wine and
starts giggling:
"C'mon scaredycat. Show me what you got."
Then she's on it; her tongue swirling around the huge bulbous head,
caressing up and down, stretching her lips wide and slurping it deep
into her mouth as she licks and sucks it clean of the sheen of wine
before dipping it once again into her glass.
And then were both at it; at opposite ends, divided by 18 inches of
plastic cock, licking and sucking and dribbling; wine coating our chins
and trickling down onto our chests, our mouths stuffed full of soft,
suck able plastic, our hands sliding up and down its shaft spreading
the wine down its length until it glistens in the lamplight and somehow
it stopped being silly. Somehow it became erotic.
I could feel it heavy on my tongue, my lips closed softly about it, my
wine slick hand slowly, sensuously corkscrewing along its shaft as I
pull it deeper into my mouth. My eyes are open looking down its length
watching Pippa, slightly flushed, eyes closed, hair falling forward to
half cover her face as she bobs her head deeper and deeper onto her
end, her mouth spreading impossibly wide as she slurps another
centimetre behind her lips. I'm entranced, fascinated, mimicking her
actions with my own mouth, sliding my tongue along its underside and
feeling its head start to nuzzle against the back of my throat. I
close my eyes, concentrate on the steady flow of air through my
nostrils, and ignore the warm, dampness spreading between my thighs and
the dribble of saliva or wine that trickles down my breastbone.
Slowly, with delicate hands I feed another couple of millimetres into
my slack jawed mouth, and feel it slide a little further down my well
lubricated throat.
And that could be that; the end of my story. Pippa and I sat on her
sofa slurping on plastic cock but I think that both you and I know
there is a little more to tell.
With my eyes shut and a nice warm plastic lollipop to suckle on, I sort
of lost track of time and place and it was only Pippa's gentle tugging
on the thick cock between my lips that brought me back. Slowly, I
opened my eyes to find Pippa kneeling before me, her fingers slowly
unravelling my own. I bit down on my new plastic friend determined
that she wasn't going to take him away from me without a fight.
"Please, I need it."
Her voice was trembling and pleaded so nicely how could I possibly
refuse. I let my mouth fall open. Tiny shudders ran through my pubis
as she slid it out across the sensitised softness of my tongue leaving
me wet and dribbling.
Carefully, Pippa crawled back to her end of the sofa cradling her dildo
in her hands, both ends sparkling from the thin film of our saliva.
She settled herself on the cushions, fixed her eyes on mine, held my
gaze, planted one foot on the floor and set her other knee against the
settee's back.
Gypsy skirts were ‘In' that year and all the fabric that usually danced
and floated around Pippa as she walked now collected on the sofa
between her widespread thighs. Slowly, making absolutely sure that she
had my complete and undivided attention, she reached down with her free
hand, found the hem and started to inch it further and further up her
perfect, tanned thighs until eventually her entire skirt was bunched in
her lap.
And so I watched. I watched the slow descent of the dildo. I watched
my saliva hanging from its thick head. I watched it disappear beneath
the folds of Pippa's skirt. I watched her eyes shut, her breathing
become heavy, the rise and fall of her breasts trapped beneath her
t-shirt, the steady slide of the dildo between her thighs, the
quivering of her belly and the tensing of her shoulders. I watched as
her mouth fell open, as her face reddened, as the steady slide became
harder and faster thrusts, as her whole body started to jerk at the
mounting tension and I watched as Pippa's orgasm exploded across her
body.
And it was only then, that I actually wondered why Pippa had a
double-ended dildo and why was it in a kitchen drawer?
And that, Pippa, will have to be that for today because I really am out
of time. Hope you enjoyed it.
I was really pleased with my first attempt at a blog so after work I dashed round to Pippa's house to show her with a printed copy neatly folded in my handbag. It had, after all, been her idea in the first place and I sort of thought she'd be as excited about it as me.
So, we settled ourselves down at her dining room table with a nice cup of tea and I handed over the fruits of my labour.
Pippa has this little thing that she does with her mouth when she isn't entirely happy ... a small pursing of her lips that makes her nose twitch ever so slightly, and I've never told her about it because I've always enjoyed knowing a bit more about what she's thinking than she wants to let on.
There we're sat; Pippa's reading away, lips pursed and nose twitching as
she shuffles through the pages until finally she reaches the end, slaps
a huge fake smile on her face and announces:
"It's great."
"Really?"
"No, yes, it's really good."
"Pippa ... what is it?"
"Whadda ya mean?"
"You don't like it."
"No, I do ..."
She pauses the unsaid ‘but' left hanging in the air.
"Tell me."
She looks a little sheepish and then blurts:
"I thought I might be in it more."
Bloody, egocentric cow.
"But all we did together yesterday was have coffee and I did mention
that ... I mean, I can't really just write a blog about you and me
having coffee because nobody will read it."
"S'pose."
"What were you expecting? What did you think I'd write about you?"
"Dunno."
Her bottom lip is pouting sulkily now so I just stare at her, waiting
her out, knowing that if I stay silent long enough that she'll
eventually spit it out.
Silence.
Silence.
A huge sigh and ...
"I thought that you might like to write about some of the stuff we've
done; you know, in the past."
Aaaahhh.
So, just for you Pippa, here's a blog entry about "stuff we've done;
you know, in the past."
We're probably talking about six years ago. Before Pippa was with Jimmy
full time, she had her own flat in town and every so often we'd have a
girly night in ... sometimes there was a bunch of us but on this
occasion it was just her, me, a six pack of Czech lager, a bottle of
Sambuca, a couple of bottles of cheap wine, the biggest bag of toffee
popcorn you've ever seen in your life and Brad/Keanu/Patrick or Hugh
doing their stuff on the dvd player.
Not that we were really paying much attention to the tv ... mostly it
was Sambuca shots with beer chasers and lots and lots of giggling.
But all good things must come to an end and even six packs of Czech
lager run out eventually. Luckily we had a brainwave; we'd do Sambuca
shots with wine chasers. We both liked Sambuca, we both liked wine, it
was bound to be good.
Now, there is a possibility that by this point we were a little tipsy
and that maybe our judgement was not quite as sharp as it could have
been; certainly I remember being rather unstable on the short journey
from sofa to fridge to collect the wine and then having to be sent back
to find some glasses and then being sent back once again to go and get
the corkscrew ... which certainly dates it because every bottle of wine
I buy nowadays comes with a screw top.
So, I'm wobbling around in the kitchen trying to find the corkscrew.
I've been in here a million times but suddenly I have no idea where
anything is, and I'm going through drawer after drawer until ...
eureka, there it is ... and sitting right next to it is this huge,
black, double ended, dildo.
Well.
Heading back, I stop in the doorway in my best Miss World presenting
myself to the judges pose; you know, sort of half turned with the heel
of your right foot raised so that your thighs rub together and your
right knee juts forward; raise both my arms aloft and shout out:
"Lookee what I found."
Left hand corkscrew, right hand huge dong.
Well, I don't know what I expected from Pippa, but a huge grin cracks
across her face and she starts doing ‘gimmee hands' ... and I don't
believe it was the corkscrew she wanted. I chuck the dildo across to
her, slump down on my end of the sofa and set about trying to get the
corkscrew out of the bottle; which proved to be far more difficult than
it should have been mainly because Pippa is slurping noisily whilst
doing her best impression of deep throating her plastic friend.
Eventually, I end up pushing the cork into the bottle and manage to pour
us both a large one. We do a shot of Sambuca, chase it down with our
wine and I refill our glasses and all the while Pippa's waving the
dildo at me ...
"C'mon."
"What?"
"Take it."
"Why?"
Suddenly, despite the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream I'm a
little bit scared about what's going to happen next and what it is
Pippa expects from me.
"Take it."
She swings it again and this time I grab hold of ‘my' end and so there
we sit at separate ends of her sofa, a wine glass in one hand and the
double ended dildo hanging between us ... both physically and
metaphorically. Pippa cracks a grin, dips ‘her' head into her wine and
starts giggling:
"C'mon scaredycat. Show me what you got."
Then she's on it; her tongue swirling around the huge bulbous head,
caressing up and down, stretching her lips wide and slurping it deep
into her mouth as she licks and sucks it clean of the sheen of wine
before dipping it once again into her glass.
And then were both at it; at opposite ends, divided by 18 inches of
plastic cock, licking and sucking and dribbling; wine coating our chins
and trickling down onto our chests, our mouths stuffed full of soft,
suck able plastic, our hands sliding up and down its shaft spreading
the wine down its length until it glistens in the lamplight and somehow
it stopped being silly. Somehow it became erotic.
I could feel it heavy on my tongue, my lips closed softly about it, my
wine slick hand slowly, sensuously corkscrewing along its shaft as I
pull it deeper into my mouth. My eyes are open looking down its length
watching Pippa, slightly flushed, eyes closed, hair falling forward to
half cover her face as she bobs her head deeper and deeper onto her
end, her mouth spreading impossibly wide as she slurps another
centimetre behind her lips. I'm entranced, fascinated, mimicking her
actions with my own mouth, sliding my tongue along its underside and
feeling its head start to nuzzle against the back of my throat. I
close my eyes, concentrate on the steady flow of air through my
nostrils, and ignore the warm, dampness spreading between my thighs and
the dribble of saliva or wine that trickles down my breastbone.
Slowly, with delicate hands I feed another couple of millimetres into
my slack jawed mouth, and feel it slide a little further down my well
lubricated throat.
And that could be that; the end of my story. Pippa and I sat on her
sofa slurping on plastic cock but I think that both you and I know
there is a little more to tell.
With my eyes shut and a nice warm plastic lollipop to suckle on, I sort
of lost track of time and place and it was only Pippa's gentle tugging
on the thick cock between my lips that brought me back. Slowly, I
opened my eyes to find Pippa kneeling before me, her fingers slowly
unravelling my own. I bit down on my new plastic friend determined
that she wasn't going to take him away from me without a fight.
"Please, I need it."
Her voice was trembling and pleaded so nicely how could I possibly
refuse. I let my mouth fall open. Tiny shudders ran through my pubis
as she slid it out across the sensitised softness of my tongue leaving
me wet and dribbling.
Carefully, Pippa crawled back to her end of the sofa cradling her dildo
in her hands, both ends sparkling from the thin film of our saliva.
She settled herself on the cushions, fixed her eyes on mine, held my
gaze, planted one foot on the floor and set her other knee against the
settee's back.
Gypsy skirts were ‘In' that year and all the fabric that usually danced
and floated around Pippa as she walked now collected on the sofa
between her widespread thighs. Slowly, making absolutely sure that she
had my complete and undivided attention, she reached down with her free
hand, found the hem and started to inch it further and further up her
perfect, tanned thighs until eventually her entire skirt was bunched in
her lap.
And so I watched. I watched the slow descent of the dildo. I watched
my saliva hanging from its thick head. I watched it disappear beneath
the folds of Pippa's skirt. I watched her eyes shut, her breathing
become heavy, the rise and fall of her breasts trapped beneath her
t-shirt, the steady slide of the dildo between her thighs, the
quivering of her belly and the tensing of her shoulders. I watched as
her mouth fell open, as her face reddened, as the steady slide became
harder and faster thrusts, as her whole body started to jerk at the
mounting tension and I watched as Pippa's orgasm exploded across her
body.
And it was only then, that I actually wondered why Pippa had a
double-ended dildo and why was it in a kitchen drawer?
And that, Pippa, will have to be that for today because I really am out
of time. Hope you enjoyed it.
Makenna
- 13.02.2021
- 15
- 0
- Category:
- Lesbian
