she purred with a suggestive wink. “Yet another quality I look for.”
Dana grinned like a fool. A blushing, sweating, so-wet-it-wasscary fool. “You need the blanket for this?”
“Well, I’ve got to lie down. And if I’m going to lie down in here, I’m using the blanket.”
Dana licked her lips. “Gotcha.”
Laurel spread the blanket out across most of the elevator car, leaving Dana sitting on one exposed strip of carpet.
Laurel crawled across the blanket on her hands and knees, smoothing each corner. Then she stretched out onto her back with feline grace.
Dana had a perfect view of the lean perfection of Laurel’s form.
How a woman who looked like that could ever give her the time of day, she would never know.
With a shy giggle, Laurel spread her legs, planting one foot on the blanket and tipping her upraised knee to the side. “Well, I usually lie like this. And mostly, I use my hands. Sometimes if I’m really horny, I’ll maybe use a…dildo, too.”
Dana schooled her breathing, desperate not to pass out and miss what Laurel would do next.
Laurel started to giggle again, making her words harder to understand. “God, this is weird. You’d better hope I don’t dare you to do something like this. I feel really… I don’t know. You’d think I’d be used to performing for an audience by now, right?”
“This is more personal,” Dana acknowledged. “Do you want to stop?” Inside, she chanted, Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t want it said that I’m the sort of woman who refuses a dare.” She moved a hand down to rest on the crotch of her blue jeans. “I, uh. I like to use two fingers and, um…just rub my clit like this.”
Amazed, Dana watched as Laurel began simulating the stroking of a lazy circle directly over the seam of her jeans. Unbelievable. She was actually pretending to masturbate. It took everything Dana had not to rub her hands together with glee.
“And I also like…” Rather than finish her sentence, Laurel let her free hand rest on her left breast. With Dana watching in fascination, she lifted her hand inches into the air, and then reached down to grasp her erect nipple between her fingertips.
This touch wasn’t simulated, and it wrenched a groan from both women.
“Yeah,” Dana croaked. “I get it.” She shifted, more aware than ever of her own wetness. “So, uh, the orgasm.”
“Ah, yes. The orgasm.” Laurel continued to circle her fingers in the air over the seam of her jeans. Releasing her nipple, she laid her palm flat over the erect nub, cupping her breast through her T-shirt. She began to thrust her hips upward in sensual rhythm, as if meeting the stroking of her busy hand. She started a low moaning that sent shivers through Dana’s body.
Mouth hanging open, Dana watched as Laurel put on the sexiest, most intense show she had ever seen. This, she managed to think, eyes glued to Laurel’s flushed face and full, parted lips, is worth the price of admission.
“Oh, God, Dana,” Laurel gasped, thrusting her hips again, this time actually causing her fingers to make contact with the seam of her jeans. She moaned, a genuine noise of surprised pleasure, and turned her head toward Dana. “I’m going to come, Dana. I’m going to make myself come.”
How Dana wished that were true.
Laurel’s hips and hand were in constant motion, and she kept her eyes locked on Dana’s face as she played out her most private routine.
Her moaning was loud and throaty, making Dana wonder if Laurel’s lovers had realized how lucky they were to cause a sound like that.
Back arched, her hand pressed hard between her legs, Laurel cried out in ecstatic, simulated release. Her words were nonsensical, broken by gasps and whimpers, and they trailed off as she relaxed her body and came back to rest on the blanket. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as though she were really struggling to recover from a shattering orgasm.
Exhaling, she
Dana grinned like a fool. A blushing, sweating, so-wet-it-wasscary fool. “You need the blanket for this?”
“Well, I’ve got to lie down. And if I’m going to lie down in here, I’m using the blanket.”
Dana licked her lips. “Gotcha.”
Laurel spread the blanket out across most of the elevator car, leaving Dana sitting on one exposed strip of carpet.
Laurel crawled across the blanket on her hands and knees, smoothing each corner. Then she stretched out onto her back with feline grace.
Dana had a perfect view of the lean perfection of Laurel’s form.
How a woman who looked like that could ever give her the time of day, she would never know.
With a shy giggle, Laurel spread her legs, planting one foot on the blanket and tipping her upraised knee to the side. “Well, I usually lie like this. And mostly, I use my hands. Sometimes if I’m really horny, I’ll maybe use a…dildo, too.”
Dana schooled her breathing, desperate not to pass out and miss what Laurel would do next.
Laurel started to giggle again, making her words harder to understand. “God, this is weird. You’d better hope I don’t dare you to do something like this. I feel really… I don’t know. You’d think I’d be used to performing for an audience by now, right?”
“This is more personal,” Dana acknowledged. “Do you want to stop?” Inside, she chanted, Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t want it said that I’m the sort of woman who refuses a dare.” She moved a hand down to rest on the crotch of her blue jeans. “I, uh. I like to use two fingers and, um…just rub my clit like this.”
Amazed, Dana watched as Laurel began simulating the stroking of a lazy circle directly over the seam of her jeans. Unbelievable. She was actually pretending to masturbate. It took everything Dana had not to rub her hands together with glee.
“And I also like…” Rather than finish her sentence, Laurel let her free hand rest on her left breast. With Dana watching in fascination, she lifted her hand inches into the air, and then reached down to grasp her erect nipple between her fingertips.
This touch wasn’t simulated, and it wrenched a groan from both women.
“Yeah,” Dana croaked. “I get it.” She shifted, more aware than ever of her own wetness. “So, uh, the orgasm.”
“Ah, yes. The orgasm.” Laurel continued to circle her fingers in the air over the seam of her jeans. Releasing her nipple, she laid her palm flat over the erect nub, cupping her breast through her T-shirt. She began to thrust her hips upward in sensual rhythm, as if meeting the stroking of her busy hand. She started a low moaning that sent shivers through Dana’s body.
Mouth hanging open, Dana watched as Laurel put on the sexiest, most intense show she had ever seen. This, she managed to think, eyes glued to Laurel’s flushed face and full, parted lips, is worth the price of admission.
“Oh, God, Dana,” Laurel gasped, thrusting her hips again, this time actually causing her fingers to make contact with the seam of her jeans. She moaned, a genuine noise of surprised pleasure, and turned her head toward Dana. “I’m going to come, Dana. I’m going to make myself come.”
How Dana wished that were true.
Laurel’s hips and hand were in constant motion, and she kept her eyes locked on Dana’s face as she played out her most private routine.
Her moaning was loud and throaty, making Dana wonder if Laurel’s lovers had realized how lucky they were to cause a sound like that.
Back arched, her hand pressed hard between her legs, Laurel cried out in ecstatic, simulated release. Her words were nonsensical, broken by gasps and whimpers, and they trailed off as she relaxed her body and came back to rest on the blanket. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as though she were really struggling to recover from a shattering orgasm.
Exhaling, she
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