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Moving closer to her we started sharing our lips. Tongues slipping between each other's mouths, that addictive kissing sensation there for us to indulge ourselves in. Breaking away I was now having fun kissing her neck which made sweet moans start to part from her lips which was legitimately music to my ears. You would be surprised how much you can make a person do once you start kissing their neck. Sucking hard on one spot I wanted to leave a hickey to mark my territory which made her moaning so much louder. (Sorry Indie for the inevitable awkward conversation with your fellow colleagues)She started undressing herself in a rush while I took the opportunity to indulge myself in kissing more of her body. Truly I was in my natural element. Revealing more and more of her beautiful body just made me ache with anticipation for what I knew was to come. I helped remove her shorts which revealed her lacy black lingerie panties which for the time being were kept on as lingerie should be. So unwittingly willing to step into my trap. Our discussion of this particular scene had been intermittent. I knew she wanted it, she knew I wanted it. But the details never made themselves apparent in our post debauchery pillow talk.Our conversation wrapped itself up as it usually does, she telling me how deeply she desired my attentions, me telling her "Soon, my good girl. Soon."Saturday morning, and our usual haunt - a quaint little Victorian with gingerbread trim, now a coffee shop and book store favored by hunched over introspects, noses deeply buried in volumes they were too "impoverished" to purchase, yet a $4.00 espresso sat cooling on the table before them. I would never understand people's slavery to image, yet my fascination with the human subject brought me back to this place over and over, and it was, after all, where I met this little waif of a girl, midnight hair and raven black eyes, curled in an overstuffed chair with a ponderous volume of De Sade's works perched in.
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It was really sheer determination and bloody-mindedness that lured the women in. Still for all her skills, she was never able to convince her friends to join in her Sapphic explorations much to her sadness. In fact, the reason she had agreed to the crazy idea of a coven was the underlying promise of a “sisterly togetherness.” Yes, she owed many thanks to Thessaly for coming up with the idea. Or had it been Morgan? She couldn’t remember. All she knew was it had been on of the more boring ones and she knew she would exploit the situation for her pleasure. Besides, a couple of naked sabbats would be nearly worth it in their own right. She nearly came again at the thought. That reminded her… Rolling off her classmate’s face, she started to walk for the door. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Don’t move a muscle.” Walking toward the kitchen and the hall closet where she kept her bigger and more interesting toys, she passed the moaning form of her roommate, fingers deep in her snatch. She.

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