Chapter 1 – Julia Lures Young Felicity To Her Apartment free porn video

I was walking along the wide path behind the glorious sandy beach on the north coast of the largest of the Greek islands. The early afternoon sun was warm on my face and the atmosphere was convivial as groups of mostly young people sunbathed, played games, chatted, and laughed on the beach. Others congregated outside the numerous stylish cafes, posing, preening, and flirting.

I’d rented the same apartment here for the last seven summers as I always enjoyed watching the bright young things, especially the females parading their slim toned bodies to impress their friends. I'd noticed how the fashion in bikinis changed from year to year and currently, to my great delight, the styles were definitely skimpy, verging on the Brazilian. Thongs were de rigeur, exposing firm tanned bum cheeks. From the front, the more daring girls hardly even covered their pubic mounds (shaving was essential) and even the bustiest of them seemingly only found it necessary to cover their areole. Halter necks, delicate straps, neat stitching, and the kinds of fabrics that stretch so provocatively over erect nipples, then turn almost transparent when wet. I wonder if their mothers approve, or even care.

Was I complaining? No. Was I excited? Yes, of course, that's the whole point of the unspoken game being played out. And I was part of that game. Even at forty-four years old, 5 feet 8 tall and rounded 34D breasts, my body had stood the test of time well. All those hours in the gym, careful choice of diet and a generous helping of kind genetics meant I could still flaunt and flirt with the best of them. Was I wearing a bikini? Well, of course, I was. The exhibitionist in me lives on and I love the admiration and surreptitious looks, especially from the women. Deep crimson red, unlined top to show off my nipps, narrow straps over and behind my shoulders and a cheeky clasp at the front buried in my evocative cleavage. Skimpy bottoms to match, of course, revealing as much as I dared.

I have to admit, I had already rubbed myself through the thin fabric even before I'd left the apartment, posing in front of the enormous mirror and getting myself nicely aroused as I thought of looking at other female bodies, much as I enjoyed looking at my own. Describing little circles around my nipples with my long nails, loving how they reacted, poking and pointing, making peaks in the clingy material, beginning to tingle, throb, grow, mmm, they looked delicious in the mirror. As I'd admired them, I couldn't resist just a little stroke between my legs, imagining the fingers were not my own but belonged to someone else who I was yet to meet ... stroking through the expensive expertly-made swimwear. Swimwear? This had another purpose, a wicked, provocative, alluring, seductive purpose. I wasn't planning to swim, but I was intending it to become wet. Maybe I'd put on a little show under the cold showers behind the beach, maybe yes, but I had a very different idea of wetness in mind, and it was already starting.

Just one more stroke, I'd promised myself, or just a few more, to get me in the mood. Mmmmm, I confessed, 'I am so In The Mood now', running my middle finger along the crease in the fabric where it had worked its way into my pussy slit, sliding it down, then up. Down, then up a little further each time, brushing over my clit, making me shudder and let out a tell-tale cry, the need in me growing, the need to slide one hand under the tight bikini top, to caress my breast, to play with my erect nipple. The other hand exploring inside ... but no, I'd resisted, and continued to make those lovely figure-of-eight shapes over my clit with my expensively manicured nails, scraping over the material, feeling the click of almost every thread, sending ripples of arousal through that unique throbbing collection of nerve-endings that were about to bring me the most pleasurable prize a woman can experience. Closer, closer as the warm air washed over my near-naked body, blowing seductively through the open window. Faster and more intentionally, then slowly, drawing it out, luxuriating in the inexorable climb to the peak of my arousal, until it became almost unbearable as I teetered on the edge. People outside able to hear my moans, my whimpers, my little gasps of pleasure and then ... my cries of frustration as I purposefully pulled my fingers away, my body shaking as I denied myself the orgasm I knew I so desperately needed.

I'd watched my reflection in the mirror as my inner thighs shuddered, my tummy muscles tight, beads of perspiration trickling down my smooth skin. I'd held onto that feeling of delicious self-control as all kinds of chemicals rushed through my body and my mind whirred with mixed emotions. 'Why do I do this to myself? Why do I deny myself the pleasure that's so readily available to me?' Why? Because I can, because I love it, and because I know that the journey to my next orgasm will be another amazing roller-coaster ride of intense emotions, erect nipples, throbbing clitoris, and oozing juices. And, whenever it comes, my next climax would be so much more powerful, more intense, and very, very satisfying.

And so there I was, pent up, expectant but for now at least, on my own. But around 4 pm, I became aware of a girl just a few metres along the railings from me; she too was alone, and by her demeanour, she appeared to be upset. I watched her long enough for my mind to fill out an imaginary index card: average height but very slim, which made her look taller than she really was. Blonde hair roughly piled on top of her head. Slender legs and a noticeable thigh-gap. Cute little titties, maybe a 30B, or 32A, small waist curving outwards to nice hips. Classy bikini in purple; bandeau top and tied-just-below-the-hip-bone skimpy bottoms. Clean white trainers. Probably about seventeen or eighteen years old but could pass for sixteen in the right outfit.

As I moved towards her, I could see she'd been crying so I asked her if everything was OK. She looked up at me, smiled for a moment, then began to cry again.

"I've lost all my stuff," she sobbed, so I invited her to explain.

"I was on an island-hopping party boat with friends but I lost track of time. I'd left all my things on the boat for safety but the boat's gone without me. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I've just dropped my phone and it doesn't even turn on now so I have nothing at all. No phone, no money, no clothes, no ID, no passport, sweet fuck all..." she blurted in an anguished stream, and burst into floods of tears.

Instinctively, I put my arm around her shoulder and tried to reassure her. "I'm sure we can sort something out. Do you know anyone on the island?"

She shook her head.

"Can I call one of your friends and get them to come back for you?"

"Can't remember anyone's numbers."

"Call your Mum?"

"No, no, NO, she'll have a fit I'm not even supposed to be here she thinks I'm in London."

We explored a few other possibilities. then her eyes lit up and she pulled a small slip of paper from inside the front of her bikini top. Pumping her elbows she cried "Yes! my ticket," and waved the slip of paper at me. It was her trip ticket and it had the phone number of the boat company on it.

"Can I borrow your phone and call them? Please? I'll love you forever if you do."

The prospect was very enticing. She was very attractive on several levels and, to be honest, I was drawn to her vulnerability as well as her body. My arousal levels were climbing.

"Sorry," I replied. She looked something between crestfallen and angry.

"I've heard of tricksters around here asking to borrow phones, then running off with them. But I'll call the boat people for you if you read out the number."

She did that lovely elbow-pump thing again and smiled broadly.

After a long wait, I got through to the boat company's office and in my basic Greek, I explained the situation. The woman at the other end knew where the boat was berthed and kindly offered to send someone in a speedboat to pick up her things. They'd be there in two hours.

"What did they say? Can I get my bag back?"

I looked into her eyes and concealed my intentions as best I could.

"She said the skipper has found your bag but he's locked it away in the boatyard office and there aren't any more trips planned for three days. They’ll bring it here on the next island-hopper party-boat trip ... on Friday."

She burst into tears again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I supposed to do now? I've got nowhere to stay, no money for food, and I can't walk the streets dressed like this I'll get arrested, or worse"

I feigned 'deep in thought' even though my plan was already well-formed.

"Come and sit down. I'll buy you a drink and let's try to work something out."

She threw her arms round my neck and kissed me, which came as a nice surprise.

"Thank you that would be amazing. I'm so happy it was you who spoke to me and not some creepy guy only interested in what's inside my bikini."

I smiled. "Indeed," I replied.

My pussy twitched and my clit made its unsatisfied presence felt as I took her hand and led her to a secluded cafe-bar.

The waitress raised an eyebrow. "What can I get you, and ... your daughter?"

"Niece," I corrected, looking at the young lady in question who threw me a quizzical expression.

"Beer?" She nodded, and looked away.

"Two beers, please. Large, and some savoury snacks; olives, feta, whatever you suggest. And some crusty bread."

My new companion looked awkward and whispered to me, "Don't I need to be able to prove I'm over eighteen to drink alcohol?"

"Well, are you?"

She looked away and down, sheepishly, breaking eye-contact, then continued "That's not the point, it's that I don't have any documentation that would prove it even if I was."

"Listen," I reassured her, "This is Greece; obeying the law is optional here."

"And why do I have to be your niece?"

"It's easier that way. Trust me."

"How do I know if I can trust you."

"Do you have any choice?"

She looked down again.

When the beers and food arrived, she became happier and more relaxed, but the questions kept coming: "Well, Auntie, I suppose at least I should know your name."

"Julia."

"Felicity. But I hate my name. My Mum's very posh, or thinks she is. Call me Flix."

'Flix' downed over half her glass of beer in one draught; she must have been dry. And she feasted hungrily on the nibbles as we began to chat. Nothing she told me gave much of a clue as to her real age but I thought it best not to ask, in case ... and my mind was racing as I imagined the possibilities. I felt my nipples harden, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Flix, listen ... I think I should have your Mum's phone number, just in case."

"In case of what, Julia?"

"Like, if you had an accident, or were suddenly taken ill and couldn't speak. No-one here knows you and no-one knows who you are."

"Only for emergencies, right?" Felicity looked anxious.

"I guess so - depends how you define an emergency."

"I'm not sure."

"But you must."

"Must, eh. Really? How come? And why all this concern for my safety when we've only just met." She was looking more confused.

"Well, my sweet, pretty little niece, I could just walk away now, leave you here to pay the bar bill, and find your own way home."

I think she muttered 'bitch' under her breath and I tapped 'add new contact' on my phone screen. She typed in the number and 'Flix Mum'. I felt a rush of excitement course through my body, ending at my clit which for a while had been sitting in the back row but which now wanted a front row seat. Everything was going to plan.

"Please don't call her. I mean it. She'll go totally mental. She made me promise not to go on holiday without her permission. And I'm not allowed boyfriends unless she approves them first. She even vets my clothes, makes sure they are 'decent'. Like ... I have several ultra-sexy party and club-nite dresses back in England but I have to keep them at a friend's house so she never sees me in them. So you can imagine, if she knew I was here without permission, and dressed in this, she'd cut me off totally and then ..." she looked downcast "... I'd have no money for shoes, or clothes, or lingerie. Or going out. Or anything at all really."

"What about ... girlfriends?"

Flix glanced at me, our eyes held contact for, you know, just that little bit longer. She handed back my phone but said nothing. I put it away in my bag. She visibly relaxed.

As we talked, I watched her. The way she used hand gestures, the way she licked the beer foam from her luscious lips. Her flawless skin, her cute ears, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about modern art. I was only half listening; I was busy scheming.

"Come on, Flix, let's find you something decent to wear." We both looked down at her bikini top and she giggled.

The stretch lycra fabric did nothing to hide her puffy areole and her perky nipples. "Don't you like it, Auntie Julia?"

"I love it, sweetie, and you look fabulous in it. But you can't walk around the town in just that, not even in Greece."

"But I have no money, remember?" she responded, in a wonderfully seductive 'poor little girl lost' voice.

"I'm sure you'll be able to pay me back somehow."

"When I get my stuff back on Friday."

"Yeah, something like that."

I finished my beer and settled the bill. The waitress said nothing, but smiled at me knowingly.

"There are some divine clothing boutiques just two minutes' walk from here," I explained as we strode inland, leaving the vibrant beach behind us. Felicity thanked me again but interjected: "To be honest, I'm more worried about where I'm going to sleep tonight. Can we find me a cheap hostel somewhere where at least I can get a dormitory bed for the next three nights?"

"Sure, I can phone around whilst you're trying things on."

Felicity grasped my hand and stood in front of me, temporarily blocking my way forward, our faces inches apart. "Listen, Julia, you're being very kind. You don't have to do this for me. I'm just a stupid little girl who fucked everything up and I should be old enough and mature enough to sort out my own problems. I'm really grateful and I can't quite understand why you're doing all this for me."

"Maybe I'm just a nice, caring person?" I suggested, then, under my breath, "Or maybe I'm not."

"I think you are, Julia, and the world needs more women like you."

"And maybe you're not ..."

"Not what?"

"Old enough and mature enough."

Felicity gazed into my eyes but said nothing.

"You OK? Anything wrong?" I enquired. Her vulnerability and apparent naivety excited me so much it scared me.

"No, nothing, it's OK, just that ... never mind," she trailed off, then dragged me into a vibrant clothing store, giggling and exclaiming "Wow, look at what they have in here, Auntie!"

Felicity grabbed things off the rails, held them up to herself, twirled, posed, and asked my opinion.

"What do you think about this for strolling on the beachfront. How about this for the evening? Something to sleep in at the hostel?"

Then, picking some rather delicious looking bra and pantie sets on the way, a salesgirl ushered her into the changing room. I just had time to insist, "You have maximum 400 Euros to spend, and only if you promise to pay me back!" I wasn't sure if she heard, but one thing was for sure; she had excellent taste, and wasn't shy about showing off her body. I looked forward to seeing those dresses (and underwear) on her.

About a quarter of an hour later, she emerged wearing a very, very short cream dress that clung to her slim body and left almost nothing to the imagination. She obviously had no bra on underneath and I only hoped she'd put on some underwear as we'd all find out either way the first time she bent over.

She, I and the salesgirl congregated at the till. "That all comes to 485 Euros please," the friendly employee chirped.

Felicity looked at me all doe-eyed. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away, but I do need enough stuff to get me through to Friday. I can pay you back, honestly."

"No," I insisted, "That's too much. You'll have to put something back."

"But pleeease, their stuff here is just so awesomely sexy and I could never buy anything like this at home. Mum would definitely not approve!" and she twirled round with her arms above her head. Yep, knickers. Well, a tiny matching cream thong, actually.

"You look sensational in that, Flix," I purred. Are you sure that's not, erm … too short?"

She shook her head, her long blonde hair fell out of its makeshift pin-up and cascaded down onto her bare shoulders. My pussy throbbed a certain little message to my brain.

"Let me just take a photo of you in that then you must take it off and put it back on the rail."

Felicity pouted. I fired off a couple of shots on my phone. She pirouetted; I recorded a short video. ‘I might need those later,’ I mused.

The bubbly employee chipped in. "I could knock off fifty if that helps.”

"435? all in, including what she's wearing?" I smiled and nodded.

She punched it through the till and I paid with my Pasionella platinum credit card. Felicity kicked one leg up behind her in a classic Pin-Up pose and planted a big kiss on my cheek. "Oh thank you so much ... erm ... Auntie."

The salesgirl winked at me as we breezed out of the shop, Felicity carrying three bags on one arm and hooking her other arm through mine as we walked. Well, more like strutted, as she'd also chosen a nice pair of three-inch heels.

"We should get something to eat," I suggested, but Felicity stopped and looked at me earnestly.

"Did you find me a hostel room? You promised. Did you? I hope it's a mixed dormitory room. I feel like getting totally fucked senseless tonight. Would take my mind off my stupidity"

I put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. My whole plan pivoted around this moment.

"Sorry, no." (I hadn't even tried).

Felicity looked crestfallen.

"I tried a couple that I know (which I hadn't). They both said the town’s totally rammed full tonight. I put a call into the central tourist booking office, but they didn't hold out much hope either. They took my number and said they'd call if anything comes up. I'm sure they'll find you something."

Felicity bit her bottom lip and looked sideways, thinking.

"Shit, shit, shit," she blurted. I noticed tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Felicity …"

She turned back to face me.

"You could sleep at mine tonight, and maybe we'll find you a hostel bed tomorrow?"

She looked into my eyes, then shook her head. Her hair shimmied in the early evening sunlight. She looked even more stunning now than when I first saw her in that bikini and my intentions hadn't changed.

"No, Julia, no. I couldn't possibly. You've been so kind to me, you've been a complete angel, but I can't impose on you any more."

"But it's no trouble for me at all, really. I have a spare bedroom with its own bathroom. You can have a shower, freshen up. I can call to get some food delivered in and ... you could show me the other clothes you chose ... and which I've paid for, by the way."

Felicity shook her head again and looked down.

"No, sorry, thanks for the offer. Maybe if you just let me call my Mum and face her wrath. I'll make up a sob-story and she can transfer across all the money I owe you and then I'll go. And she'll never let me out of her sight again. If only I'd not missed that frickin boat."

"I can't let you do that, and you'd still have no-where to sleep tonight."

"Fuck that, Julia, I'll just sleep on the beach then. I'll be OK. You're being too kind, really. It's starting to creep me out. Now stop trying to run my life OK?"

I took her hand and pulled her in the direction of my rented apartment. "Don't be silly. Come on, it's not far."

"Let go of me, please." Felicity struggled but I kept hold of her hand.

"I'd feel responsible if anything bad happened to you." I tried harder to pull her towards my rented place but people were starting to look.

"Fuck no, Julia, leave me alone. I don't like this. You're weirding me out here."

I took out my phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm messaging your Mum," (which I wasn't). "I'm going to send her the photos I took in the dress shop."

"Oh no, oh no, you can't. You wouldn't. Stop it, Julia."

"Just hitting Send now." (which I wasn't).

Felicity tried to grab my phone.

"Hey," I said, loudly.

I small crowd began to gather.

"Let go of my phone. You've already smashed one phone today. One's enough."

She looked mad, then began to cry.

"Please, please don't contact her Julia, please?" she begged." I'll, I'll ... do anything you ask ..."

The sensation that shot through my body when I heard those words felt like my clit and nipples were connected together by taut but unseen electrical fuse-wire. I put my phone back in my bag.

"Bitch."

"What did you say, Felicity?"

"Nothing. And call me Flix, OK?"

"You're in no position to dictate terms. I'll call you whatever I choose, little lady. And learn to say please."

She didn't reply and we walked in silence until we were in the glass elevator inside the small select apartment block a couple of streets back from the seafront. And all I got then was "Nice." The atmosphere between us was tense, to say the least and she was still pretty mad at me when we arrived at the penthouse floor, but when I pushed the apartment door open, her mood changed totally.

Felicity stepped inside … and froze to the spot. She looked around the room before remarking, in an uncharacteristically quiet and awestruck tone of voice: "Oh wow. I didn't realise."

She put her bags down and walked slowly around the large, expensively-furnished living room, running her fingertips along the backs of the cream nappa leather sofas. All four of them. I asked her to explain.

"Is this yours?"

"No, I just rent it every summer."

"Wow, but even so... so ... you're a Rich Bitch then."

I smiled. I liked the sound of that.

"If you say so, Flix."

She turned to face me, her expression softer and the anger visibly melting away. "Listen. I'm sorry about all that, out in the street. You must think I'm so spoilt, so ungrateful, so stupid. And you're very generous." She looked out of one of the big floor to ceiling windows and took in the panoramic view of the harbour, beach and topaz sea, continuing: "Yes, I'll stay. But only one night, really, it's enough."

"I might make you change your mind, my pretty little thing," I purred.

"I'm not sure what you mean. Anyway, I'll just keep myself to myself. If you show me to my room, I'll just take a shower, get an early night and I'll be gone in the morning. Thank you for your kindness. You've done far more than I deserve already."

I walked over to her purposefully, put my finger under her chin and lifted her head to make her look at me. "Let me remind you, little miss spoilt brat. You still owe me 435 Euros for all this trash," as I gestured to her new purchases. "You have no money for food or lodgings and you don't get your belongings back for three days."

"I'm young and pretty. I can earn that in one night," she retorted, mockingly. I could have slapped her.

"Yes, you are very young, and very pretty, but how?" I enquired sarcastically and with a sneer, even though I knew the answer.

Felicity put one hand on her tilted hip, the other in her thick blonde hair and slut-walked around the living room. "Easy."

I reached for my phone and acted out making a call. "Hi, is that the lovely Felicity's mummy? Do you know exactly where she is right now?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't test me."

Felicity lunged forward, almost falling off her heels, and tried to grab my phone again. I grasped both her wrists but she struggled and broke free. I chased her across the room and cornered her, but not before my silk wrap came loose and fell in a heap at my feet. Now wearing only my red bikini, I pressed my body against hers. She surely must have noticed how hard my nipples were, poking aggressively against the delicate fabric. I'd been aroused all day, of course, but this was different. I was on fire for her. My juices were oozing from my pussy and soaking my swimwear. Surely, she'd smell my animal scent.

"You made me a promise," I half-growled. "Remember? 'Anything you want', you said." I looked into her eyes - I wanted her - probably more than I'd ever wanted another woman. Ever.

Felicity stood motionless. I could feel her breathing deeply. I pressed my body harder against her and I felt her yield, only slightly, but I felt it.

"Yes, Julia, I did, and now I know exactly what it is you want," she replied.

I smiled, then I let her go. "Show me again how you'd walk the streets, like a whore. Go on, show me your best strut."

Felicity scowled at me and muttered something under her breath. But even so, and still dressed in that impossibly short dress, heels and almost nothing else, she paraded around the room. She placed one foot directly in front of the other with admirable precision, causing her hips to sway. The dress was body-con tight down as far as her hipbones then flared out so it swished as she walked and I got frequent glimpses of her tiny new cream thong underwear. It was also low-cut in deep vees front and back so, as I'd already noticed in the shop, it was patently obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Not least because the fabric clung to her small-but-perfectly formed breasts, topped with just-discernibly-puffy nipples. I only just resisted the burning desire to touch myself right there in front of her.

Felicity kept her eyes on me the whole time and made three complete circuits of the large room.

"You're good at this, sweetie," I said, with a smile and a wink and she seemed more relaxed and convivial once I'd complimented her. The kind of girl who knows she has the look, but still likes to be told. And maybe she was getting off on being watched.

"I'll get you a drink then you can go and get changed into something else I just bought you, OK?"

"Oh gosh, yes, thanks. I’d like that; I'm so dry."

There may have been an irony in that remark, but I let it go. She downed her beer in only two draughts then continued, with a hard stare: "You know how to get what you want, don't you, Julia. But I'm not what you think I am. I'm into guys, understand? I love a good hard cock inside me and OK so I may have kissed a few girls and fooled around at pyjama parties but that's about it, OK? And that's how it's staying. I don't mind you looking at me and I'll even admit I quite enjoy it. But if you don't mind, I'll model the rest of these clothes in the morning if that’s what you want. You did kindly mention getting some food in and I’m starving, but after that, I'd love to just get to bed and have a good night's sleep if that's OK?"

I agreed; why rush a good thing?

I don't think she could have eaten all day; from the way she devoured a whole large pizza to her slim self as we chatted animatedly over food and red wine. She told me a bit more about her background, her stifled upbringing, and her overbearing mother. No tangible clues as to her age though.

"I'm sorry, Julia, but I'm afraid I'm going to be bad company and head off the bed," Felicity announced at around 11 pm. She'd been looking tired and drained and the drama of the day combined with the wine had taken its toll. Much as I'd been hoping to take things further, I had the prospect, if I could spin out my immoral, self-serving deception, of having her to myself until Friday. The thought rekindled the arousal between my thighs, but I let her go.

"Thank you, Julia, you've been amazing. I like you, and sorry for being such an obnoxious cow outside," she managed to say between yawns, then kissed me on the cheek. As she disappeared into her suite, her cute tight bum only half-covered by that dress, I was definitely looking forward to our fashion show the next day.

***********************

Lying in bed, naked and aroused, I looked up at the ceiling and pondered over the day. I felt very pleased with myself; I'd made a good catch and my plans felt secure for the next three days. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Felicity. Either a flashback to the day, or a vision of what was to come. My fingers toyed with my nipples, stroking, drawing circles around them, flicking, pinching. Mmmm that felt so good. I had my legs spread wide apart and my pussy was throbbing. I could tell my lips were already achingly swollen; I didn't need to touch myself to know that.

I'd been doing this for the past twenty minutes and I'd not touched yet, until now. Slowly, I stroked my outer and then my inner labia. Long languid strokes along and between them. Then occasionally dipping a finger inside, collecting some of the creamy juice that was oozing onto the Egyptian cotton bedsheets under my bum.

Dragging my finger upwards, brushing over my clit, hooking under its winking hood. 'Don't be shy, my little one, come out to play,' I whispered as I teased and flicked. Bolts of excitement shot through me and I moved my fingers back to my needy vagina. Sliding one deep into me, then two, then three, I pumped and plunged. Harder, and faster, almost becoming frantic. Then, as an orgasm threatened, I stopped and pulled out, intentionally, and breathed deeply as waves of arousal and frustrated expectation washed over me. I craved release, but now was not its time.

Lying motionless, I counted to a hundred, unable to think of anything but the throbbing between my legs. Then I repeated: Fingering, stroking, teasing, fucking, craving ... then basking in unsatisfied desire.

Five times I did this, each cycle around fifteen minutes. It was a not unfamiliar routine for me. I then moved my attention to my breasts. As I tormented my nipples, my pussy ached, begging for more attention, and I felt more warm creamy juices escape from between her swollen folds. My breasts were hot and flushed from my constant elevated state of excitement, and I was loving it. I took hold of both nipples firmly, pinched them hard and pulled my firm breasts up into points, their entire weight hanging from their red-hot rock-hard nipples, I felt the rising tide of an orgasm building yet again deep inside my groin. My clit was throbbing with unmet need and I focussed on it, concentrating, willing the feelings to grow stronger, controlling the pace. Closer now, my thighs trembling, legs so, so wide open, my breath coming in short staccato gasps. My hands were shaking, eyes tight closed. How far could I take it this time? I imagined Felicity's tongue on my clit and it felt indescribable. I saw images of her flash before my closed eyes, standing facing me, naked and vulnerable.

So close, so excited, so aroused, so needy, rocking my hips, gyrating, head thrown back, edging closer to that perfect moment when ... I again stopped.

Releasing my nipples, I put the palms of my hands flat down on the sheets and rode the wave of delicious self-denial. I counted the vagina-clenches. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Mmmm a good one. My whole body felt alive. Goodness knows what chemical cocktail was flooding through my arteries but it felt sooooo good. My nipples throbbed so hard I dared not touch them. My thigh muscles spasmed. I moved one hand down to hover my pussy and kept it there, close enough to feel the heat rising. Close enough that I could touch my clit in an instant if I chose to and within moments reward myself with the crashing release of an all-engulfing orgasm. But I didn't. No, I derived enormous satisfaction from just holding it there. I could almost see the sparks as the energy flowed from fingertip to clitoris, but gradually, it all subsided. I let out a long low breath and relaxed. 'Yessss ... two wonderful edges in one day, I mused. And who knows what tomorrow will bring,' I mused.