Alessandra's Secret Tryst
By
Alessandra Tamino (alessandratamino@yahoo.com)
Foreword:
This is a continuation of the stories begun by "Alessandra's Awakening" and is not for minors or those offended by graphic depictions of lesbian sexual experiences. For background it's important to read the previous stories.
Please email me with any feedback! I truly appreciate it.
I'd like to dedicate this to sweet inspiring L
The next several months of my life were idyllic. Jennifer and Melissa had split up -- Joann had given Jennifer an ultimatum, the bitch. She was dangerously fascinating and I hoped never to see her again in my life -- she was like a poison one was helpless not to taste. I was very dismayed by the realization that one person could exert such a destructive influence without a qualm of conscience. Jennifer simply left her partner of 10 years for a wanton slut nearly 20 years her junior!
Melissa turned to me and we grew very very close. I was, simply, in love, so exuberantly in love, and could hardly stand to be away from her side. We shopped together, went to museums, movies, rollerbladed, attended concerts -- everything short of actually living together, which I dearly wished for but which Melissa was not prepared to do.
"Let's not push it, darling," she cooed to me, "I'm still pretty frayed and you're just in puppy love."
I protested, of course, but knew she was probably correct. Strangely enough, my kinky submissive slutty impulses and fantasies began to recede. Our lovemaking was passionate, sensual, very satisfying, and the dark world to which Melissa herself had introduced me had all but disappeared. I now basked in the light of mutual affection and love with my new-found partner, and this made me feel clean and wholesome.
We were committed to each other fully, and I entertained no thought for any other girl -- or so I believed.
Melissa and I had been dating `exclusively' for about 4 months when my job required me to travel to Seattle on a fundraising trip (if you recall, I work for a nonprofit organization that grants money to creative and performing artists). It was just a 3-day visit to several potential donors and I was excited by the thought of exploring a new city with my lover.
Unfortunately, Melissa was unable to leave her job, so I was forced to travel alone. Well, it wouldn't be very demanding anyway, and I'd be back in no time.
I arrived in Seattle late Thursday afternoon. It was warm and drizzly. After checking into my hotel downtown I made a few calls to confirm my appointments for the next 2 days. This left me with most of Saturday afternoon free, and on Sunday I'd be on my way home.
Friday was busy -- and successful! I managed to obtain promises for $250,000 in grants from two separate donors. I joined our clients for dinner before collapsing in bed. After a 3-hour meeting on Saturday morning I'd be free, and I sorely wished for Melissa to be at my side to see the sights.
Although I didn't actually secure a donation for my efforts on Saturday, the signs were positive and at lunch I was virtually assured of a sizeable contribution. I didn't push it, merely thanked the potential benefactor for his time and returned to my room to dress down and wind down for a relaxing day: I had earned it, I thought. I had no firm plans. I might take a sightseeing tour, I might just stroll around, read in a park (if it wasn't raining!), maybe take in a movie or show or concert in the evening. I dressed `casually sexy', luxuriating in the feel of freedom, happy with my body, singed as it was with the attentions of my Melissa.
Just a few blocks from the hotel was a huge record store, and I could see it had a very large classical/opera selection, so I went in. It was a joyful relief to browse without any pressure of time.
I flipped through scores of CDs, discovered several operatic rarities, a bunch of discs I'd been looking for for ages -- Caballe, de los Angeles, Nilsson, Bjoerling....It was heaven and I was oblivious to everything else -- except for a slim young woman who seemed to be on a similar mission.
She was remarkably pretty, a strawberry blonde about my height (5'7"), whose soft hair fell gently to her shoulders. She wore a dress that accentuated her lovely figure and smooth strong sexy legs, skaters' legs it seemed (which I loved!). She wore no bra and I could discern her nipples beneath the delicate fabric of her dress. "Mmmmmmm," I thought.
Every once in a while we brushed past each other and smiled without saying anything. I dropped a Callas CD and she graciously picked it up for me, and I thanked her and we just got to talking about Callas and singing and voice and opera and music generally. Her lovely eyes twinkled with spirit and her friendliness was infectious. She was a Seattle native and when I told her of my situation she suggested we go for a quick cup of coffee -- if I had time -- so she could tell me what to see and where to go, how to avoid the usual dumb touristy things. We introduced ourselves formally.
Lyn seemed very young -- maybe 21 -- and musically very sophisticated for her age. Well, I thought, what harm could there be in a cup of coffee? I assented and she led me past a zillion Starbucks to a local coffeehouse that was cozy and colorful. I insisted on doing the buying, and as we settled down at a table and sipped our lattes I thought I'd never tasted a cup so delicious.
As we talked I noticed that her fingers would occasionally graze my arm, that her hand would alight on mine momentarily, and I became involuntarily excited -- and guilty. What would Melissa think? But we kept on talking and Lyn was so animated and alluring that I knew I had to break off our meeting lest I do or say something I would regret.
So I apologized and thanked her and told Lyn that I really needed to get back to the hotel to check on a few things and was about to rise when Lyn said very softly through smiling teeth:
"You'll stay right where you are, slut!"
I was taken aback, and felt a strange thrill along my spine and the back of my head. I stayed put, turning crimson with shame and desire.
"You'll do exactly what I tell you to do, Sandraslut, no more, no less."
I swallowed hard: was I so obvious? Was I such an open book? Could Lyn already and so easily know something essential about me simply on the basis of an hour's conversation?
"Now, Sandraslut," she continued, "I'm going to get us another round and while I'm at the counter I want you to remove your panties and place them on my chair. By the way, I know they're drenched."
My heart leapt. I could get up and be done with this craziness, but ... but as she gazed at me with her beautiful cherubic face, as I admired her strong and supple and gracefully sexy body, I lost all common sense. Her eyes captivated mine as I gingerly and slowly slipped off my sopping panties -- in a public place! --and lay them on her seat.
Lyn returned with two more drinks, which she set upon the table, then lifted my panties nonchalantly to her nose and mouth. Cupping her hands over her face she inhaled my aroma and sighed.
"You smell so wicked, my cunt," she said smiling.
I was growing lustful by the minute.
"Now," she commanded, "give me your things -- wallet, keys, you know." I obeyed and she stowed these and the panties in her handbag.
"Let's walk back to your hotel."
We left and began to stroll. The sun was making an attempt to do what suns do in most other places, that is, to shine. Lyn took my arm quite freely, and I let myself go with it, with her, charged as I was by the electric touch of her body.
My heart raced as she used my electronic key to open the door to my room and silently led me past the bed to the window. She looked ravishing as the light played upon her lovely fine features. She reached around me from behind and kissed my neck and I arched myself into her without hesitation. She lifted my dress over my head and, still behind me, cupped my small breasts with her delicate hands, and pressed and rolled my large swollen nipples, sending jolts to my pussy. After kissing me on the mouth she pushed me down to my knees and moved to the chair by the window to sit. She extended her right leg and, keeping her voice just above a whisper, commanded me:
"Come, slut, pay homage to your mistress."
I moved over to her on my knees, my heart beating wildly, and held her gorgeous leg aloft. I kissed and licked the heel of her shoe, tongued her entire shoe lavishly, breathing heavily with mounting ardor. I then removed her shoe and cradled her soft exquisite foot, smothering it with wet kisses, licking it wildly, taking each toe in my hungry mouth.
"Yes, you bitch, treat each toe as if it's my clit."
Hearing the word `clit' made me faint with anticipation. I did as she instructed, nibbling and sucking and licking and caressing each toe with my lips, and I could smell her potent arousal as I yearned to move upwards. I wet the top of her foot with the flat of my tongue, and then her arch. I kissed her ankle and began to take my lips up along her calf. It was such utter joy to please her!
Lyn closed her eyes dreamily and moaned softly.
"You're a good little cunt, Sandra," she said.
I loved hearing my name and this inflamed me to lavish more attention on my new mistress, this lovely young goddess, for goddess she seemed in looks and spirit. I kissed the inside of her knee and she let me part her legs. She lifted her buttocks up off the chair, a signal for me to slip off her soaked and redolent panties, which I took in my mouth and sucked upon. She tasted indescribably delicious.
I felt as if I had never been so excited in my life as with this magnificent young creature whose voice was more compelling than any physical bond.
Lyn stretched a hand out to grasp my short brown hair and brought my face to her full lips and kissed me fiercely. Then she removed her dress and I was astonished by the natural beauty of her body. Her breasts were small, like mine, and very firm, her waist narrow. Her muscles were toned but not gym-built, and she was oh so commandingly feminine. She pulled both legs upwards and back:
"I want your lips on my ass, Sandraslut."
I complied greedily, slathering spittle on her nether hole and puckering it with the tip of my tongue, and when my nose grazed her clitoris as I did this she shuddered. Her pussy was hairless and smooth, like mine, and looked so delectable. I grew more aggressive, lightly pinching her cunt lips and teasing them apart, darting my tongue forcefully into her intoxicating cunt and ass by turns.
"Lick it, bitch!" she rasped, "Oh, honey, lick my cunt, my ass, yes, lick me, yes!"
I introduced first one, then two fingers into her anus as I drove my mouth down to suck and engulf her clit. My face was glistening with Lyn's nectar and I thrilled to hear her orgasmic screams, to feel her wild release.
"Oh my god, yes, honey, yes, yes, I love it, I love you, Ohhhhhh!," she shrieked.
Curiously enough, I felt as if I could somehow love this stranger too for her known and unknown beauties!
Lyn pulled me over to the bed and we lay side by side, kissing and fondling each other. She instructed me to lie on my back, place my hands above my head, and to spread my legs for her. She gazed at me with wanton lust and I pulsed with sensual yearning. Then she stretched my nipples out as far as they would go, first one, then the other, and while stretched slapped my breasts hard with her free hand. How I loved it!
She then began to kiss me everywhere -- everywhere except my breasts and cunt, teasing me mercilessly, kneading and grazing my skin with her hands, and I began to burn for release and to beg:
"Please, mistress, make me come," I implored.
"Not until I say you're ready, bitch," she responded.
She turned me over onto my stomach, grabbed my hair roughly and guided me to my elbows and knees.
"Take my hand in your mouth, slut!" she cried.
I wet her fingers and hand, sucked on them furiously, and she slapped my ass hard with it, stinging me.
"Oh," I yelped.
SMACK!
"Count, bitch!,"
"Two." SMACK! "Three." SMACK! "Four." SMACK! ...
At the count of 14 I became crazed with lust and seeing this Lyn brought her hand squarely across my dripping and inflamed cunt. It hurt so pleasurably!
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
I cried out at the top of my lungs.
"Who's your mistress?" she asked.
"You are!"
"Who?"
"You, you are my mistress!" I gasped.
"Who?"
"You, my love, my darling, oh please, oh yes, oh, I'm coming, I love you Lyn!"
After her last pussy-slap she inserted several fingers into my slippery cunt-shaft and I pumped against them, hard, hard, harder, until I shuddered into a climax felt by every fiber of my panting humming body.
I wanted her, this stranger, this goddess Lyn, for a lover, mistress, partner..... Was I mad? Or had I discovered someone whose essence resonated with my own deepest core?
I knew only in these moments that I wished to ravish her and be ravished by her, to take in every inch of her diva-like body, to fulfill her every wish and whim -- and to have her fulfill my own as well....
We awoke entwined the next morning after a long and languid sleep. I hurried to pack so I could get to the airport on time, but willingly dropped to my knees to pleasure my Lyn when she asked again for my lips.
"I don't know whom or what you're returning to," she said, "but you're mine, my slut, my sweet Alessandra, and I'm yours, and you'll come when I call."
"Yes," I replied rapturously, sealing our union by kissing first her cunt and then her mouth.
Poor Melissa, I thought, as the taxi sadly sped me away from a strange new wondrous love, a love like no other....