Unicorn Hunters

[1]

Chapter One

 

Jay was one of those arrogant twenty-somethings that knew he was more than handsome enough to get by and thought that’s all he needed in life. While he was easy on the eyes there wasn’t anything going on inside his head.

That didn’t stop me from admiring his body. I had that right. After all, I was the one who had invited him into my bedroom.

I wanted to reach out and grab his cock just to feel the heft and firmness in my hands. While I wanted to make him cum, I wasn’t going to do that, not right away. We were going to play with him first.

We. My husband and I. We had a handsome and arrogant and sexy young man in our bedroom. Naked in our bedroom. I knew I wasn’t going to get to make him cum right away because my husband’s cock was in his mouth.

Maybe I should back up.

 

We were both feeling it. We’d been married a few years. Things were going well: jobs, house, happiness. Right after we hit our sexual peak, I knew that something was off. There’s no way to keep things going at the same pace when we had first met. Sex two or three times a day wasn’t unusual for us. Daily was mandatory. Eventually we dropped back to just weekly and we were both feeling the effects of it on our relationship.

Same story for every couple, right?

So we did exactly what every other couple did. We looked for a way to spice things up in the bedroom.

Shit. I hate that fucking phrase.

We were looking for a way to keep our sexual relationship going along with our romantic one. I was starting to have second thoughts about the whole marriage thing and I knew why. So what did I do? I asked my husband what he wanted to do to keep things interesting and exciting. I was following the same advice every relationship advisor and couples counselor has given out for the past century.

His fucking answer?

“I don’t want to say.”

How the fuck is an enthusiastic wife supposed to deal with an answer to that? We had tried all the usual stuff in our intense first couple of years: bondage (fun, didn’t matter which of us was getting tied up, but nothing I needed to keep doing), spanking (which I liked more than I admitted, but Bryan had a problem giving me a proper spanking because of some childhood abuse from his family), anal sex (which was a giant meh for me, it was okay with lots of lube, but I had to use my hand on my clit while he fucked me, and the impression I got from Bryan was that he was trying it because anal was, at one point, the ultimate taboo in porn), and we even considered voyeurism but it seemed too difficult to work out the details (online voyeurism seemed dull). We certainly weren’t going to delve into weird piercings (I had just my ears and my belly done, that was more than enough and Bryan had an earring in high school and college, but gave that up years ago), or leather costumes and dress up (that seemed silly and childish to the both of us). I actually googled a list of kinks and fetishes but declined to try them.

I knew what I wanted but I couldn’t say it. 

Bryan, my brave husband, had the strength to tell me what he wanted.

“What about a threesome?”

Even though he was suggesting just what I wanted, I still couldn’t compel myself to say yes. 

Why couldn’t I do that?

I don’t know. Judgement? The fact I was still trying to keep secret a part of myself that I should be happy to show to my husband?

“You just want to see me fucking another woman,” I replied in what I hoped was a playful manner. I didn’t know anything now.

“Sure. Or another man.”

That thought intrigued me. “You wouldn’t be jealous to see another man’s cock in me?”

We were in bed, I was wearing nothing but my nightshirt and he was in his boxers. All he had to do was put his hand up my shirt and he’d find an already wet pussy. I was tempted to grab his package to see if he was hard. 

He had to be hard.

“Of course I’d be jealous,” he said. “Isn’t that half the point?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’ll make me want to fuck you more.”

That did it. I slid my hand under the sheet and over his hip. Yes, his cock was hard. He shivered a bit when I grabbed him. 

“Would you wait politely for the other guy to finish in me or would you shove him aside and fuck me hard?” I asked.

“Which would you want?” he asked as he rolled on top of me. I couldn’t remember just then when the last time it was that we had sex. 

I spread my legs and felt his hard cock pressing against my pussy. We were still separated by the cotton material of his boxers. My nightshirt was up around my hips. We were going to fuck. I was certain of that.

I didn’t answer his question. “Maybe you want to fuck another woman in front of me,” I said, teasing some more. We didn’t need more teasing. We needed to get his boxers off and his cock into me. Maybe this was just bawdy foreplay, but it was going to have to get me through the next week.

“Would you like that?” he asked moving against me.

It made it difficult to concentrate.

I thought about it for a second. Some strange woman on top of Bryan, riding him while I watched. The thought was hot. I’d be willing to do it. There was a tinge of jealousy at the thought, but I wasn’t the sort of person who felt like she owned her husband. I wanted him to be happy. If fucking another woman made him happy then I was willing to do that.

I was willing to do that because I wanted to fuck that theoretical other woman as well.

I’ve known I was bi ever since puberty hit. My secret desire in my sex life was to get in bed with another woman and fuck her just to see what it was like. But I was brought up prim and proper and being bi (or lesbian or gay or anything slightly outside the heterosexual norm was forbidden) wasn’t going to be a reality for me. Cousin Jerry was gay and I was one of the few family members that talked to him. Cousin Jerry was a doctor who was happily married with his husband. I don’t know how he escaped the family with his sanity intact.

My family issues aside, it’s just more socially acceptable now for a woman to explore her bi side. 

At least that’s what I told myself.

That’s what I had been telling myself.

I wanted it to be true. 

If it was true, maybe Bryan would he okay with a bi wife.

I shoved down his boxers and found his eager cock was absurdly hard.

That’s what I wanted.

“I’d be happy to fuck another woman in front of you,” I said as I fitted the head of his cock between my nether lips. I couldn’t remember being this wet without some serious foreplay.

Was this foreplay?

He blinked at me as he sank his cock into my pussy. “You’d fuck another woman while I watched?”

“Yes,” I admitted because it had been too long since I had him inside of me. “Or you can fuck her,” I said trying to make some sort of respectable recovery. “Or we can fuck her together.”

“That’s fucking hot,” he hissed in my ear as he pounded into me.

Yes, it happened insanely fast. Yes, a true gentleman would have made sure I was good and ready to be fucked, but Bryan didn’t do that because I was good and ready. I wanted him to pound into me.

The sex was short but intense. I came so quickly I surprised myself. He came too, but that wasn’t surprising at all. It’s easy to get a man off.

It was the conversation we had the next morning that was the most revelatory.

“Are you serious about last night?” Bryan asked me.

I would have been happy to pretend that it never happened. We could have both said that we had sex and had used some fantasy talk to get things going. A fantasy that was never going to happen. 

It was me who wanted to forget it all because to admit to it would cause me more anxiety than I wanted to think about.

“Last night?” I asked breezily. “That was some good sex, wasn’t it?” We were sitting at the breakfast table scrolling through our phones because we didn’t know what else to do with ourselves. I reached across the table and patted his hand. It felt patronizing when it was supposed to be a loving gesture.

“Yeah, but I was talking about what we said.” He looked down at my hand on his. 

“Oh! That. Just fantasy talk, wasn’t it? Something to get us going.”

“I thought you were serious.”

“Well, people really don’t do that, do they?” I asked knowing very well that people had all sorts of kinky goings on. 

“I’m sure they do...maybe.”

As much as I was trying to undermine what he was doing, I couldn’t stop myself. “Well, even if we said yes, where would be find someone else? I’m certainly not going to fuck someone I know.”

That was the real problem. I wanted to have sex with a woman, but I didn’t know how to go about doing it. What are the chances that some woman I know socially or at work that I’m interested in would, first, want to fuck me, and, second, actually be bi or lesbian, and third, be discrete enough to not say anything about a clumsy pass I would make?

It was easier just to deny my sexuality and continue occasionally fucking my husband to mild satisfaction.

“Like everything else, there’s an app for that,” he said with a smile.

“Oh shit! Look at the time. I’m going to be late for work.”

I practically ran out of the house. I wasn’t proud of that.

But in our modern society, there’s no way to escape from someone so easily. Bryan sent me several texts with suggestions for apps.

And I was stupid enough to look into some of them.

 

The boring part of looking for a casual hookup is all the grunt work that has to be done before any sort of sexual satisfaction. There was lots of boring work to do just to hook up and fuck.

Because I couldn’t help myself, I slowly slogged through it, found an app I liked, created a profile, and started narrowing down my search for a third to entertain Bryan and me.

Yes, I was looking for a unicorn. Yes, I was only looking for someone to come into our bedroom, fuck the both of us, and then leave. Yes, it’s somewhat dehumanizing. But that’s all I was willing to admit to myself that I wanted. That I was allowed. That was what would make me happy.

This didn’t happen in an afternoon when I had a little extra time at my desk. This took weeks, which was fine because it wasn’t like Bryan and I were having any more or any less sex. 

I created two profiles, which is incredibly deceptive, I know, but I was looking for someone for Bryan and myself, but I was also looking for someone just for myself.

Was that cheating? Probably. 

Was it nice? Definitely not.

Was it something that I felt I had to do otherwise I’d go crazy and divorce my husband because I wasn’t getting the sexual happiness out of my marriage that I wanted? Hell yes.

I showed Bryan the profile I created for us as a couple. He was pleased with it. What we discovered right away was that there were plenty of couples looking for a unicorn, but surprisingly few unicorns out there. And we lived in a fairly large city known for its liberal attitude in all things. 

The other thing I quickly discovered was there were plenty of women out there, married and not, who were looking for flings on the side with other women. 

Apparently in the over thirty age bracket there were lots of unfulfilled women looking to explore sex without their husbands at their sides.

I knew what I was going to do and I wasn’t proud of it.

 

Apparently modern dating is something I hadn’t kept up on. 

But is it really dating if I’m just looking for a hookup?

There was a lot of emailing and text messaging. Most of it was boring. I was starting to think that I was wasting my time because there wasn’t a lot of interest. Supposedly there were dozens of singles (and not so singles) in my area looking to hook up. That was a lie. 

Since I decided I was just looking to explore and have sex, not have a relationship, I went entirely that route.

Do you know how hard it is to take a decent selfie that makes you look sexy but not slutty and not desperate? 

Difficult. Very difficult.

And I didn’t want a bathroom mirror selfie with toothpaste on the mirror and a toilet in the background.

The trick that worked for me was finding a decent camera control app and setting my phone on a cheapie tripod. From there it was just a matter of posing and timing.

The one I eventually wound up using showed me sprawled on the bed in my best black lace lingerie. A keen observer could just barely see the outline of my dark nipples through the thin material of my bra. I kept my smile but not the rest of my face in the picture.

I felt a little guilty that I was posing in this lingerie when it was purchased for me by Bryan for some special occasion.

This was another special occasion, I reasoned with myself. 

If everything went well, it would benefit him as well.

I had my suspicions about the app because I had my profile set so that just bi and lesbian women could see it. I was getting a surprising number of messages from men who liked my picture. That was nice, but I was looking for a nice woman to get into bed with. I didn’t want to just have an affair.

I wanted to have a lesbian affair.

Still, the picture did have the intended effect. I started getting responses from women who were interested. Some I scared away when I asked for a body picture and a note confirming who they were (those were probably men posing as women; fuck dating in the 21st century is tough!) but a few followed through.

I’m not saying I have a flawless body, but I’m still in pretty good shape. Yes, my picture was designed to show off my body in a way that I thought would be advantageous and while I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what type of woman I was looking for, I wasn’t looking for someone who was too lazy to put a little effort into their pics.

But blah blah blah. Eventually Tracy sent me a decent pic. She was tall and curvy. Not perfect. No one is, but she was topless and I couldn’t help but stare at her tits. They were larger than mine and I wanted to know how they felt in my hands.

And in my mouth.

Is it too superaggressive to say I want your body against mine? It was a terrible ploy to seduce her, but I was tired of playing games with pictures and text conversations that went nowhere.

Her reply? No but I’m slutty that way.

I think I had found the girl of my lusty dreams.

Keeping Tracy hidden from Bryan wasn’t that hard. As a modern couple we spent way too much time on our phones. I’m not proud of that, but that’s life. Tracy and I figured out that we had similar lives, which was kind of scary. Both married. Both worried our marriages were slowly falling apart due to disinterest and lack of action in the bedroom. We were both bi, no surprise. I admitted to her that I had never done anything with any other woman, though I had fantasized and masturbated to the thought of being with another woman.

Her little confession. I slept with my best friend in high school. I thought we were in love. The next day she refused to speak to me and we weren’t friends any longer.

That was the last time Tracy had been with a woman. Seventeen years. Yikes. But then again, it was all new to me.

I welcomed her unflinching advance. When do you want to meet and how do you want to fuck?

Sometimes things work out perfectly. Back and forth went our messages. Schedules were tough to work out. We both wanted to keep this a secret, at least initially, from our husbands. Maybe we weren’t really bi and just needed a little confirmation of this.

Eventually we settled on an after work coffee date in a few days. She told me for the next week her husband worked the late shift at the hospital where he was a lab tech. He wouldn’t be home until midnight at the earliest. 

The implication was obvious. If our coffee date went well, we were going back to her place to fuck.

That’s exactly what I wanted. 

 

Lovely Lydia. Lecherous Lydia. Libidinous Lydia. Lascivious Lydia. Libertine Lydia. Loose Lydia.

Those were just some of the names my college roommate and best friend had while we lived in the same dorm. Eventually we got an off-campus apartment. The names didn’t go away. One day I came home from a morning class to find her in bed with Gene. All well and good. That evening she went out with Mike and wound up in bed with him.

Her nicknames were well-earned.

I never told her that I helped popularize a few of them.

But as soon as we graduate and get out into the working world, she becomes a prude and two years later she winds up marrying Richard. 

I secretly called him Dick, for good reason.

And still she was my best friend. 

I didn’t tell Loose Lydia about my coffee date to come. I couldn’t. It was something private that I needed to work out on my own.

Still, Lecherous Lydia had always been a good friend to me.  We stopped by each other’s houses at least twice a week. 

Wednesday I stopped by her place, if only to reestablish who I was in her eyes because Thursday I was meeting with Tracy. 

“Rich and I are trying to get pregnant,” she confessed to me when offering me coffee instead of our usual glass of wine.

First off, I hate the expression “we’re trying to get pregnant.” The woman gets pregnant; the man helps. I let it slide. I needed a friend’s support at this time, even if she didn’t know why she was supporting me.

“Congratulations! Um...are you having trouble?”

“We started trying last month.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

She grimaced and pretended like this was a meeting between herself and a fertility expert. “We don’t want anyone to know. I thought that maybe you and Bryan…”

I had gotten married two years after Lovely Lydia. In the intervening years we had both gotten the third degree from family members as to when we were going to start a family of our own.

“Not yet,” I said quickly.

“I’m starting to worry that all the birth control I’ve used...maybe it’s made me barren.”

That was ridiculous and I told her so. In college her birth control of choice was the hope and pray method and maybe a condom. She had been using an IUD with Dick, but obviously that wasn’t in the picture any more.

“Still, all my sisters and cousins...BAM! First try, they’re pregnant.”

“Give it time. Enjoy it. Fuck all over the house,” I advised. “You aren’t going to be able to do that next year.”

She got a wistful look in her eyes. “I know.”

I wanted to confess to her my planned date for the next evening. But I didn’t. She didn’t need to know her best friend was bi. Maybe bi. Maybe I was just trying to live up to her slutty standards from a decade ago?

I’d confess after it went well.

Or maybe if it went poorly.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Tracy was a half head taller than me and she had an impressive amount of cleavage showing when I met her in Madeline’s coffee shop. I felt almost frumpy next to her in my bland work clothes from the office. The moment she saw me walking in, she stood up and walked over to greet me which she did with a kiss on my cheek. 

I liked the mild scent of her lotion or perfume or whatever she was wearing.

I was glad she was taller than me but not taller than Bryan.

After ordering our coffees, when I sat down at the small table across from her, I didn’t know what to say.

“This is awkward,” was her opening line.

“Yeah...what should we talk about?”

We were both silent for a minute.

“How about sex?” I suggested because I have a dearth of social graces.

We both looked around nervously, like we were drug dealers or assassins for hire making sure the DEA or FBI weren’t checking in on us.

Let’s face facts. No one cares if two people are hooking up for sex...unless they have a voyeurism fetish.

“What about it?” Tracy asked when we were done with our far-too-obvious observation of the coffee shop. 

“Want to do it?” I asked and smiled over the rim of my cup as I smiled at her.

She smiled back at me. “Yeah.”

“Want to get out of here right now?” 

I don’t know what I was thinking. My panties were vaguely damp with anticipation. (It was finally going to happen!) The woman across from me might be a serial killer, but I was willing to risk that. No one knew where I was, not even my open-minded and loving husband, who would almost definitely probably would approve of what I was doing if I had told him and offered up details later on.

“Shouldn’t we finish our drinks first?”

Tracy was right. Wasting a five dollar cup of coffee seemed overly extravagant, but then again, it was all in the name of getting fucked.

Or was it? Do two women actually fuck? Do they bump uglies? I rather liked the way my pussy looked and was eager to see Tracy’s.

I wasn’t thinking straight, but that was good because if I went to bed with her, I certainly wasn’t going to be straight any longer.

Taking a hefty sip of my coffee which was a stupid thing because it was too hot and I just wound up burning my tongue, I said, “I’m good. Want to go back to your place and fuck?”

I had decided just then that the term fuck was universal for any two people having any sort of sex.

“You don’t want to discuss what you want to do in bed?” she asked me.

“Let’s surprise each other,” I said surprising myself in the process.

We went to her house. I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into, but she was driving an Audi and as I followed her, we headed to one of the nicer suburbs. Where we arrived wasn’t exactly a mansion, but a tasteful home that was worth far more than I could possibly imagine. She parked in the garage. I parked in the driveway. 

I was a little lost as to what to do when she disappeared inside and closed the garage door. Tracy reappeared at the front door and waved me over. When I reached the door she held the storm door open for me in such a way that I had to slide by her to get inside.

She didn’t let me slide by easily. Our bodies touched and I paused to look at her as I was halfway in. We were too close and it was too much to resist.

I’d seen that look in the eyes of every lover I’d ever had. I paused and lifted my chin as she leaned down. 

When our lips touched it was like an electric shock went through my body, right to my clit which was pulsing in anticipation of the rest of the evening. I wanted to rip off my clothes and do whatever I could with her. Her lips were so much softer than Bryan’s or any other man’s. The skin of her face was smooth, smoother than mine. I didn’t miss the stubble I had become accustomed to when kissing my husband. 

It felt incredibly freeing just to kiss her on the front steps. It was romantic and sexy and erotic and way too many more emotions for me to properly process. 

She broke the kiss. I wanted to keep kissing her forever.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here?”

“Why?” I asked, my lips still incredibly close to hers.

“Because of the neighbors.”

I looked around her cul-de-sac. Not one person was in evidence in the dim evening light. Most of the houses were completely dark. “Who’s going to see?”

“It’s all about appearances,” she said, pulling me inside.

I let her. She was bigger and stronger, but I still stole a kiss on the way in.

She gave it to me freely.

Inside the house was amazing. I knew that Tracy was a few years older than me, but she wasn’t that much older. Maybe she made a really good living at...I couldn’t remember what she did. Her husband worked at the hospital, so that was good money. It wasn’t overly showy, but well designed and decorated. I didn’t see much of the house. Entryway. Stairwell. Hallway. Bedroom.

Her bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Unlike my bed, theirs had been made up that morning.

Maybe she had a maid or housekeeper?

Seeing the bed made me freeze. I was about to make her cheat on her husband.

I was about to cheat on my husband.

I could leave now if I wanted.

I didn’t want that.

Feeling Tracy’s presence next to me I glanced to my right. She was standing stock still, just like me, eyeing the bed. We both had voiced that we wanted to get to this point but the moment it was looming there...we were on the verge of chickening out.

“You have a very nice bed,” I said because it was the truth. Nice and big with an elaborate headboard and way too many pillows that gave me ideas and a fancy comforter that she probably called a duvet. It was right then that I realized I was getting involved with someone from a higher social and economic strata. Maybe it was because she was a few years older than me and acted more mature, but I felt outclassed.

“Thank you.”

“Want to get into it?”

She giggled a little and turned to me. “I’d rather kiss you first.”

“Right. That.”

We gracelessly put our arms around each other. We didn’t have any of the smoothness we had downstairs in the doorway. The first thing I was aware of was her tits were sitting above mine and a quick glance downward confirmed she had jugs much more massive than mine. I was jealous and I wanted to set them free.

The second thing I was aware of was the warmth of her body. And her closeness.

And then her lips were pressing against mine. I didn’t know what to do so I became the aggressor. The kiss was intimate. The moment her lips slightly parted I shoved my tongue into her mouth. She didn’t protest; if anything she pressed her body closer to mine and carefully moved her tongue around in an elegant ballet with mine.

But I hadn’t come all this way just to kiss her. Without thinking about it my hands automatically descended until I encountered the inward curve of her back and then the outward curve of her buttocks. I didn’t squeeze and maul them like some inept high school masher, but she still broke the kiss.

“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” she asked me, delight in her voice and eyes.

“That’s why I showed up,” I said.

Smiling widely, Tracy backed up and slipped her green suede jacket off. Unlike me she didn’t just let it drop to the floor or toss it aside. She went to her closet and carefully hung it up.

Her clothing separated her from me as well. Like me she must have come from work, but she was dressed a step up from me, in a jacket and dress. I was far too business casual.

“Unzip me?” she asked after she walked back to me and turned around, sweeping her hair off her neck.

The dress was black, nothing fancy, but office appropriate. 

This was the moment and I knew there would be a lot of new moments for me in the next few minutes.

I must have zipped and unzipped dozens if not hundreds of dresses of my cousins, mother, and friends over the years. Somehow doing it for Tracy was incredibly erotic. 

Underneath her black dress she was wearing a pink bra. That surprised me. I would have figured she would have worn black. Sexier. 

And she wore matching panties. Of course she did.

While she didn’t wear a garter belt, she did have thigh high stay up stockings, but these were black to match her dress. She had shimmied out of her dress. Maybe it was just a tiny bit too tight because she had nice curves. Walking with a confidence that I felt between my thighs, she went back to the closet and hung up the dress. Dry clean only or something like that.

I drank in her body with my eyes. She wasn’t flawless, but who is? Seeing her mostly naked made me want her all the more.

Her arms went around my waist and mine went around her neck and we kissed again. This time her hands went to my ass. I tensed up and hoped she liked what she was groping. 

“Need help?” she asked fiddling with the buttons on my blouse.

I shook my head and went to undo a couple of the buttons. My fingers were shaking too badly to do anything. When she reached for them, I let her, but I couldn’t stand to watch. I wanted to be as naked as her. More so. I wanted to be completely naked in front of her. 

So I just grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head to drop it to the floor. Not very elegant or classy, but it got the job done. My tits are an A cup, maybe a B in certain bras. Next to Tracy my body was practically boyish. Maybe she liked that. Before I gave her the chance, I unzipped my pants, dropped them, and kicked them off, peeling my shoes and peds along with them.

She frowned for half a moment which panicked me. 

“What?”

“I was hoping to see you in that lingerie you were wearing in your picture.”

I looked down at my plain white bra that maybe was flattering to my shape, but the real reason I had worn it was because you could clearly see my nipples through the thin material. My panties were much more revealing. While still white I had made sure to wear a thong, not only because Bryan compliments my ass when I wear a thong, but because I knew I wanted to get naked in front of Tracy. Maybe dressing up and showing off was a girl thing, but I was a girl and I was with a girl so it was legitimate.

“I’m not going to be wearing this for very long,” I told her as I turned around and strode boldly to her bed, throwing back the cover to reveal extra fancy and silky-smooth sheets so that I could roll on them.

I made sure that she got a good look at my ass because I certainly couldn’t compete with her in the tits department.

“You seem eager,” she said as she slowly and confidently approached the bed.

I couldn’t take me eyes off her.

“Why delay the inevitable,” I said with a shrug and then took her into my arms as she climbed on top of me. Her weight felt good on me. We kissed again. Her tits crushed into my chest.

Unable to help myself, I circled my arms around her body and quickly found the back of her bra. I knew that if I didn’t keep pressing forward, I would stop and run out of her house, probably half naked. Showing off years of being a girl, I managed to unhook it without any difficulty (surprising myself again) and together we removed it. 

Tracy sat up while straddling me and showed off her tits. They bounced around so fetchingly that I didn’t resist. Reaching out I cupped both of them in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples.

She let out a shuddering gasp. “Careful…”

“Am I hurting you?” I didn’t want to hurt her. I wanted to make her feel really good.

“No…” She grabbed my hands but didn’t pull them away from her tits. “If you keep doing that I might cum.”

I wanted her to cum. “What if I suck on them?”

“Then I’ll definitely cum.”

I could feel the heat of her pussy through the silky panties she was wearing; it was pressed on my thigh. We were into it now. I lifted my head and pulled my hand away from her left breast. I had stopped thinking; I was just acting on what felt good. It was surprisingly easy to catch her nipple in my mouth. 

I sucked.

It quickly hardened under my tongue.

I bit down ever so carefully.

Tracy shivered in reply.

She moved her hands down so that she was on all fours above me. That gave me the opportunity to pinch her right nipple.

She shivered again.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” she whispered, her eyes screwed tightly shut.

I let her nipple slip out of my mouth. It hung down pendulously. I licked the topside before saying, “That’s the idea.”

That encouraged her. She moved up, offering her breast to my mouth. I sucked on the nipple and pinched her free nipple as hard as I dared.