Amara’s boss develops an obsession with her panties, and an interest in the study, while Amara herself gets her pussy sniffed.
Part 3: “All That Fluid Is Damned Good For You”
Melissa froze in position, her frame stooped low, almost half squatting. She had one hand on the open, bottom drawer in Amara’s desk, her head hovering just above it; just above Amara’s handbag nestled in the drawer, and just above the drenched pair of panties that lay at the top of the handbag. The sodden state of the panties was all too apparent. In certain folds and crevices lay deposits of a thick creamy-white fluid, and the gusset of the knickers was covered by a thick, fluid-like, slimy mucus.
An eerie silence descended upon Amara’s office, each woman seemingly entrapped in their own deeply private thoughts.
Amara’s predicament was that she had been rumbled and didn’t know how her boss was going to react. She couldn’t remember if there was any company policy against masturbating in the office; come to think of it, she couldn’t remember having ever worked anywhere where there was such a rule, although many workplaces forbade sexual intercourse. Was she going to get fired for having sex in her office? When she really, actually, hadn’t?
But Amara knew that office sex was the least of her worries. Her professional behaviour that afternoon was, however, clearly of concern; the fact that she had decided to satisfy the urgent hunger that had attacked her cunt, and in doing so, had failed to complete an important task: to confirm a critical appointment in their marketing campaign. Amara hoped she would be rescued by her otherwise exemplary performance scores in the three years she had worked at the firm—until today.
Melissa was clearly caught in a predicament of her own. She seemed unable to move, as if paralysed in situ by the overpowering stench emanating from the handbag. Her nostrils flared wide at the pungent aroma of Amara’s pussy, her eyes apparently fixated on the dirty material and on the creamy-whitish coat distributed all over it—pasty in places and slimy in others.
The more Melissa stood there, poised above her drawer, the more perplexed Amara became. What was Melissa doing? From where she stood, Amara could mostly only see Melissa’s back, and half a side of her face. Amara did not understand why Melissa was not moving, her head almost literary in the drawer. She was embarrassed by the fact that Melissa was now looking—even staring—at her soiled and drenched underwear, and it mortified her to know that Melissa could see splashes of her vaginal secretions, obviously mixed in with scrapes from the skin of her pussy, and with the mucus from inside it; and maybe a stray pubic hair here and there that might have escaped her shaving razor. Amara expected Melissa to recoil in sheer disgust at such filth, if not solely from the strength of the musty stench.
Yet, Melissa did not recoil in disgust or show any revulsion. She simply continued staring at the material, her nose just inches above the gusset of Amara’s panties. Melissa was directly inhaling the odour that was now rapidly dominating the air in the office, overpowering the spraying Amara had done just minutes earlier.
Whatever Melissa was doing, it completely mystified Amara, who decided that she needed to get her boss out of that drawer and away from her embarrassing undergarment. To do that, she needed to break the silence.
“I…I’m so sorry,” she said. “I mean, I can explain.”
“Was this all you?” asked Melissa.
“What…?” Amara said. The question was completely unexpected and did not make any sense.
Melissa, who had not moved from her position, reached into Amara’s bottom drawer with both hands, her movements as if she were handling a fragile item that might break. She lifted Amara’s handbag from the drawer, careful to hold it in such a way that it remained wide open. Melissa’s gaze did not shift from the sordid piece of material as she turned to face Amara.
“Was this all you,” Melissa said, “As in, did all this pussy juice and all these sticky, creamy deposits come out of one pussy? Your pussy?”
“Uhm…yes?”
“Oh, my God!” Melissa literally shouted the exclamation.
Was that it? Was Melissa finding it hard to believe that one pussy could have produced so much fluid; that one cunt had made so much of a mess? Did she think that there might have been other women with her, and that multiple pussies might have wiped themselves on the same pair of panties? What a ridiculous thought, Amara concluded.
It was true that she had produced an incredible amount of fluid, and it had come as a surprise even to her. Granted, Amara was normally a gusher. But today had been special; far beyond anything she had ever experienced before.
“Look, I can explain,” Amara offered.
“Are your panties literally dripping with juices from your pussy—just your pussy—because you spent the afternoon masturbating all over this office building?”
“I…I…don’t know what to say.”
“How on earth did you manage to get your pussy to produce so much fluid, so much cum?”
“I…I….” Amara was more than flustered. “It just happened.”
And that was when some of the most incredible words came out of the mouth of Amara’s boss.
Half sighing, half whispering the words, Melissa said, almost dreamily: “The state of these panties has made me lose interest in all your wrong-doing this afternoon.”
“Wow!” Amara exclaimed, not believing the words she had just heard. “I was not expecting that! I thought you were going to recommend that I get fired.”
“That thought never even crossed my mind,” Melissa said. “But okay, look, I’m your boss, and so I have to make sure that when it comes to your job, you are putting in performance excellence at all times. Having said that, the last two minutes have shown me—literally shown me—that what we are dealing with here today is far more profound than one missed appointment.”
Amara was too shocked to say anything.
“Look Amara,” Melissa continued. “I can see what’s going on, here. It’s pretty obvious, at this stage, that something happened; something happened during your lunch which triggered all this. It overpowered you, and I want to know what it was.”
“You want to know what turned me on?” Amara was still in shock. “But why?”
“If there was something that triggered this amount of cum, I’m certainly very interested in knowing what it is.”
“Oh, I see….”
“Yes,” Melissa said. “And, I’m not asking you as your boss, but as a woman. I am pretty sure that whatever it was; it was so powerful that you couldn’t wait to finish yourself off, starting in the lift, and continuing right here. I am really intrigued at how one vagina could have done all this. Did you take some drugs? Is that why you had the accident?”
“No, of course I did not take any drugs!” Amara protested.
“But, please, Amara, I need you to just square with me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Melissa.”
“Just tell me what it was that stimulated you so much that your pussy just gushed.”
“I’m so sorry, Melissa,” Amara said, “But I can’t really talk about it.”
“You can’t talk about it?” Melissa said, pleadingly. “Why? Come on, Amara. I need to know this….”
“But…seriously…I can’t,” Amara said. I promised someone that I wouldn’t tell.”
“You promised someone that you wouldn’t tell?” Melissa was aghast. “So this was triggered by someone, and it must be why or how that accident happened, mustn’t it? Look, Amara; I’m asking you woman-to-woman. You know what it felt like to come like that. I need to feel that too. I need to know how to make myself produce so much pussy-juice.”
“Oh my god!” was all Amara could manage.
“So, can’t you see, Amara? I need this: as a woman; as a friend; as your friend.”
]“But I don’t even know if it would work in the same way for you, as it did for me. So, what if you don’t get the same reaction?”
“Well,” started Melissa. “Then it will just mean that I get to know something that could be, possibly, your biggest turn-on. I’ll also know that it’s not all that much of a turn-on for me. There’s some value, at least, in that. There’s a lot of value in self-knowledge.”
“I suppose you are right,” Amara said.
“Does that mean you will tell me?” Melissa said, the hope in her voice registering.
“No,” Amara said. “I told you. I made a promise, and someone could get into trouble if I don’t keep it.
“Please, Amara.” Melissa said. “I’m begging you. I need to know. What on earth happened to cause you to make your pussy produce so much juice and so much cum? God, it’s so, so much! You must have squirted and squirted!” The anguish in Melissa’s voice was apparent, overflowing with pure jealousy.
“No, I told you, I can’t. I did make a promise that I wouldn’t.”
“Come on, Amara, please….” The anguish now shifted from Melissa’s voice and registered on her face.
“Seriously, Melissa, I really can’t. Uhm…wait a minute…. Unless…”
“Yes?” Melissa’s eyes lit up and shot at Amara; pleading; imploring.
“Okay…I’ve got an idea.”
“I’m all ears,” Melissa said; a promise of hope at last?
“I could call the person and ask for permission to tell you and—”
“Oh, what a great idea!” Melissa said, her face a picture of glee. “Why don’t you go ahead and do that now?”
It was not lost on Amara just how keen Melissa was. She walked over to the visitors’ side of her desk and reached for her desk-phone. She dialled Keaton’s office line. The ring-back tone played through, but there was no answer. She tried again; still no answer. Amara put the receiver down and reached for her mobile phone. She navigated to Keaton’s mobile line and called it. The phone went straight to Keaton’s voicemail.
“Hey!” a cheerful voice said. “I’m sorry I can’t pick up right now; most likely I’m in class, in which case I’ll call back after 9 PM. I hope that will not be too late for you. Please feel free to leave a message. Thanks!”
“Hi,” Amara started. “Sorry to catch you when you are in class. Look, uhm….something has come up. Something…about our deal. I need to talk to you about that real quick. So call me back ASAP, okay?”
Amara cut the call and turned to look at Melissa.
This time, it was what Melissa did; it was one of the most unbelievable things she could ever have thought or hoped to see anyone do in all twenty-seven years of Amara’s life.
All the while that the women had been talking, Melissa had had both hands on Amara’s handbag, holding it open. Amara’s sordid panties had remained in view, the pungent scent having now overpowered the masking sprays Amara had so liberally used around the office. Both women could smell Amara’s pussy, the stench hung so heavily in the air. And through most of the exchanges, Melissa’s eyes had been glued to the gusset of Amara’s panties, apparently mesmerised by the thick, slimy, whitish fluid.
Melissa released her right hand from the handbag so it was now dangling off her left. She reached inside the bag and picked up the panties, as Amara watched in wide-eyed dismay.
“God, these are so wet!” Melissa said. “My hand is already soaking!”
As she spoke, she manoeuvred the panties so that they were turned inside out. Melissa straightened the material out in her hand so that the gusset covered her palm. The entire gusset area was now clearly visible. The thick coating of the mucus-like substance glistened in the light of the office.
Melissa raised the panties to her face and said: “May I?”
And then she shot another look directly at Amara. Her eyes had an expression of such a profound sexual hunger as Amara had never seen on anyone before. Melissa’s nostrils were flared wide, as if there wasn’t enough air in the confines of the office. Her mouth was half-open, almost like a lioness about to pounce at captured prey.
“What are you doing?” Amara asked in open-mouthed horror.
“I’m sorry, Amara, but I just have to know…”
“You have to know what?”
“I have to know what another woman’s pussy smells like.”
“Oh my god!” Amara’s shout was so loud it was almost a scream. “That is so gross!”
But in her own mind, Amara said: ‘Oh, please god, spare me. Did Melissa just say that she wants to smell another woman’s pussy? Oh my god! Melissa wants to smell my pussy!’ That thought, ironically, made her breasts tingle, making her want to grab both of them and push them hard into her chest.
“Oh, I don’t know, Amara,” Melissa said. “Everyone I’ve ever dated is fascinated by the smell of my pussy; some men have practically wanted to bury their noses inside there and take a sniff. Many even did! I just want to see if it’s the same smell up close and personal. I want to know if my pussy smells exactly like your pussy.”
Oh dear god!
‘I want to know if my pussy smells exactly like your pussy.’
That was just maddeningly hot! How was she going to survive such delicious verbal attacks on her senses? As the question assailed her mind, an answer to it assailed her tits and her pussy. Her nipples felt as if someone was biting at them, and then sprinkling them with a tingly substance, as they pushed out digging into the fabric of her bra. Her clitoris felt so hot Amara feared it might explode. Her pussy lips felt like they were engaged in a lewd dance. She actually felt her entire vulva move without doing anything voluntarily. She felt each part of her pussy responding deliciously differently to the pressure that came from the muscles of her vagina as those muscles contracted forcefully, tagging at her pussy lips and pulling them inwards.
Amara knew that there were no fluids escaping her vagina. She knew this because she could feel her cunt-hole clamped tightly shut. She could also feel the fluids collecting inside her channel, heralding a gushing flood the moment those cunt-muscles would relax.
“But, you can smell my pussy in the air,” Amara offered, attempting at innocence but noticing that her voice quavered. “Is that not enough?”
“Hardly,” Melissa said. “Not with all that spraying you did. I need to be able to smell your pure pussy. I need a pussy-smell that is just pure, fresh pussy; not mixed in with perfume.”
“But wouldn’t you get grossed out?” Amara felt her pussy starting to relax and tried to tighten it up again, willing the pussy juice to stay inside, trying to delay the inevitable gush that was sure to follow.
“Well, men don’t find it gross. I’ve already told you how all my dates always wanted to smell my pussy. And lesbians don’t find it gross. Not that I’m a lesbian or anything. It’s not about that. I’m just explaining that it’s not as gross as you might think. I mean you can’t eat pussy without smelling it, so you certainly wouldn’t eat pussy if you thought the smell was gross.”
“But…. Look how dirty that looks! That is gross!”
“I know,” Melissa said. “It’s so fascinating, isn’t it?”
With that, Melissa brought her panty-covered hand close to her nose. The gusset of Amara’s panties were so close to Melissa’s nose that the wet material touched the skin at the tip. Then Melissa sniffed.
“Oh God, Melissa!” Amara shrieked. “That is totally gross!”
But even as she said that, Amara felt it starting again. The fire inside her pussy; the same fire she had felt at lunchtime. Like a wet flame—if such a phenomenon could ever be imagined—lighting up at the centre of her sex. An attack of a hot, wet hunger. Amara felt the petals of her pussy respond to the sight of Melissa’s beautiful nose stuck to the inside of the gusset of her panties. A strong, tagging pulled from inside her cunt and moved downward, making her entire channel contract. She felt drops of vaginal fluid escape her cunt’s entrance and start to trickle down her bare thighs. ‘I’m gonna need to wipe myself soon!’ thought Amara as she tried to close her vaginal opening tightly.
Caught in her own reverie and oblivious to Amara’s immediate experience, Melissa let out a heavy gasp, then proceeded as if to empty her lungs, in a loud exhalation. With her eyes and mouth closed, slowly, ever so slowly, Melissa breathed in. She breathed in Amara’s pussy juice and smell in a long, long, slow sniff. The raspy sound of pussy-scented air rushing up Melissa’s flared nostrils filled the silence that had descended between the women.
“You are crazy,” Amara said, realising that her own pussy must be just a bit crazy too, because while her mind reacted in shock, her pussy reacted by squeezing tightly, without any effort on her part. ‘But I’m not a lesbian,’ Amara thought, as her pussy lips relaxed and she tried yet again to squeeze her hole shut, succeeding only in squeezing more of her juices out of her cunt. ‘I can’t be a lesbian. I am not sexually attracted to women, they do not turn me on; no, not in that way. And I’m certainly not attracted to Melissa. No, I’m definitely not a lesbian, and I’m not bisexual or anything like that either. So what the hell is going on? Am I going mad?’
And yet the sight of that cute nose literally buried in her panties, was so erotic, that it was almost on par with being asked whether her face looked exactly like her pussy.
“Crazy, am I?” asked Melissa, rhetorically. “Look, don’t think anything of this. I’m not a closet lesbian or anything like that, and I certainly will not be coming onto you. You can rest easy on that. I just had to know. I needed to know.”
“Okay,” said Amara, not sure what else to say.
“And what did your friend say? Do you now have the permission to tell me?”
“Oh…uhm…no. I could only get through to voicemail. And I’ve left a message. Most likely, I’ll get a call back later in the evening, and then I’ll call you and tell you all about it.”
“Why don’t you send him a message?”
“Send him a message? But…I said I just—”
“Yes, I know,” Melissa interrupted. I mean a text message. WhatsApp or something like that. It might be quicker to get a response.”
“Okay. Let me try to message him.”
As Amara started fumbling with her phone navigating to her messages, Melissa said: “Look, there’s still too much artificial scent in this office, and I need to smell your pussy without that in the way.”
Out loud, Amara said: “What?” But the monologue in her mind was altogether at odds: ‘God, why are the most beautiful words and phrases being used on me by everybody today? I need to smell your pussy! Who does that? And why is it so hot? It’s too hot to even be true! Right here, right now, I bet Melissa’s pussy is soaking wet at the thought of smelling my pussy.’
If her breasts could have secreted juices, those juices would have been trickling down her front, that is how hot and wet it felt at her nipples. As for her clitoris, if Amara did not know better, she would have thought someone was flicking at it; but she knew that the only flicking being done to her clit was by all these words in her ears, and all these images that were being painted onto her mind.
“Why don’t you send that message to your friend,” Melissa said, “While I go to the bathroom and smell these panties properly. I’ll be back shortly.”
Melissa’s right hand was still covered by the soaked panties as she placed Amara’s handbag on the desk. She picked up her own handbag and hoisted it over her shoulder. This allowed her to use the free hand to unclasp and unzip it. Amara watched, her eyes confirming her expectations as Melissa proceeded to carefully place the panties inside the handbag. Then followed a determined strut to the door, where she paused and looked back at Amara.
“I shan’t be long,” she said. “Just give me something like fifteen minutes?”
“Fifteen minutes! What on earth do you need fifteen minutes for?”
Melissa did not answer. She turned, opened the door and made a quick exit.
‘I knew it,’ Amara thought. ‘She is so horny right now, she has just escaped somewhere to go bring herself off. And she wants to do that while sniffing at the scent of my pussy!’
That bit was not rocket science. What was harder to fathom were all these lesbian-type connotations to what was happening right now between Melissa and her. This whole thing about her panties. That was weird. But even weirder was the way her pussy and her breasts had responded when Melissa had sniffed at the gusset. Amara had literally felt that sniff. It had felt as if Melissa had actually placed her nose right on her pussy and breathed in. And when Melissa had taken in that second, long, long sniff; Amara had almost literally felt the cold air blowing over her pussy lips, and her entire minge had twitched.
She believed Melissa when she’d said she wasn’t a lesbian. Because Amara wasn’t either. ‘I guess it must be possible to be completely straight but still have purely feminine sexual experiences,’ she thought. The way she had reacted to the panty-sniffing meant that this had to be true. The thought of a girl smelling her pussy was clearly a massive turn-on to her, just as the smell of another woman’s pussy appeared to be a massive turn-on for Melissa.
Amara felt a familiar warm tingle tracing a path down her inner thighs. She didn’t need to look to know what it was. She reached for a wad of tissues from her desk. By the time Amara came to wipe herself, the was, in fact, two trickles of pussy-juice that had run all the way down to her calves; one on each leg. It took a considerable amount of tissue for Amara to get her pussy sufficiently dry.
It stumped her how so much could have happened in one afternoon. Amara could not remember a single day in which she had experienced so much sexual awakening. Today, she had come up against some deeply—almost spiritual—stirring, erotic concepts, and had heard some of the most incredible, sexually stimulating words. And her body, her mind, and her pussy had all responded right on cue.
Amara turned her attention to her phone and was just about to start writing the text to Keaton when the phone came to life in her hands, and lo and behold, Keaton it was.
“Lo and behold!” Amara said. “Hi. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, Amara,” Keaton said. “How are you? You’ve got me a little bit apprehensive over here. What’s going on?”
“Look Keaton,” Amara said. “I’m gonna cut the long story shot and just come out and say it. You have to let me tell Melissa about your show.”
“About my show? You mean the study? Wait…wait…wait a minute. Let’s do a little backtracking and start over. You want me to do what? Amara, what on earth did you do?”
“Look, I can’t explain much,” Amara said. “All I can tell you is that Melissa and I were talking, and in the end I might have mentioned something that got her interested in wanting to find out more. Look, I’m gonna have to tell her, or else you can tell her yourself, if you prefer that.”
“It’s certainly better for me if I do the explaining,” Keaton said.
“I will tell Melissa that she will be able to find out what she wants to know tomorrow. So you’ve got up to the end of the day tomorrow, okay?”
“Alright, Amara. I suppose I am gonna have to show Melissa the university release papers too.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Just so I’m prepared, how much have you told her?”
“I didn’t tell her anything.”
“Then how did the subject come up?”
“I’m not ready to discuss that,” Amara said, firmly.
“Alright…okay,” Keaton said. “Well, thank you, Amara. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Amara cut the call and looked around her office, realising what a mess she had made; they had made. She decided to do a bit of tidying up. And that was when she noticed the condition of her office chair. Near the edge, the shiny black leather was encrusted with a thick creamy-whitish coating. That needed cleaning; like now. Otherwise the fluid, which had already started to dry up, would be harder to clean if it crusted dry.
It was a full twenty minutes before a flustered-looking Melissa turned up in Amara doorway, to a freshly cleaned, tidy office. Her hair was slightly tousled, and her cheeks were bright red.
“Hmm…you’ve been busy,” Melissa said sitting down. “I’m sorry that took rather long.”
“Yes, it did,” Amara agreed. She was now comfortably sitting in her executive chair, still panty-less in her skirt. “You were gone nearly half an hour.”
“So, did you get through?”
“Yes, I did. He said it is best that he tells you about it himself, and he will do, before the end of the day tomorrow.”
“It’s a he?”
“It’s Keaton.”
“Keaton from Customer Management?”
“Yes,” Amara said.
“Oh my god, Amara. Did you fuck him? What about Darrell? Are you cheating on him?”
“No, of course not,” Amara said, horrified. “I did no such thing. Once he explains, you will understand.
“Tomorrow is so far away,” Melissa said, the pleading look creeping back into her eyes. “Can’t you tell me even just a little bit? He’s gonna tell me everything anyway.”
“I really do not want to start breaking promises and creating misunderstandings. The only hint I can give you is to use a mirror down below?”
“What do you mean to use a mirror down below?”
“To look at it,” Amara said. “You know, at your pussy.”
“Your hint is that I should use a mirror to examine my pussy?” Melissa said. “What am I looking for.”
Before Amara could answer, her mind registered on the words: “I should use a mirror to examine my pussy.” Wow. If you say something like that one more time, Melissa, I’m gonna come right here where I’m sitting.
“Just to look at it.” Amara said, managing to control the tremble in her voice. “You know. As in to get to know your own pussy. All of it’s nooks and crannies; all the folds and, especially, all the orifices. You need to understand the entire physical design of your pussy.”
“Keaton told you to examine your vagina, and that is what turned you on all that much? Why do I not believe that?”
“There’s obviously more to it than that,” Amara said. “But that should start you well off on your quest.”
“I suppose I better go and have a look right now.”
“Right now? You are going to inspect your pussy right now?”
“Well, you did. If it was good enough for you, it must be good enough for me.”
“I suppose you are right.”
Melissa was already on her feet, and said: “Oh look at the time; it’s almost 5 PM. I suppose I better get going.”
“Alright, Melissa,” Amara said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow on that trip to the printers?”
“You bet,” Melissa said. “But, I might call you later on in the evening if I should need some tips.”
“Tips? About what?”
“Well, you know,” Melissa said. “About how to properly study your vagina to understand it’s design.”
“Melissa, you are mad.”
Melissa crossed to the door and had her hand on the handle, about to swing it open when Amara’s voice came after her: “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Melissa froze, then turned around slowly.
“Do you really need them?”
“Melissa, I’m not going to let you leave my office with my panties in your handbag.”
Melissa reluctantly turned back, opened her handbag and handed the dirty piece of material back to Amara, who snatched it and swiftly deposited it in her own handbag.
There was no further exchange of words between the women as Melissa hurriedly exited Amara’s office.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Amara decided that she better catch up with her work before she left the office, considering the fact that she had not done a single productive thing since lunch. ‘Well, productive in the sense of my career,’ she thought. Otherwise, she thanked her lucky stars for the way the day had turned out. A bit touch and go with Melissa there; but what a turnout. What an afternoon; what a day!
It occurred to Amara that she had not so much as thought about Darrell while the events of the afternoon had unfolded. ‘I’ve been a really bad girlfriend today,’ she thought. A pang of guilt pulled at her heart. Why was she suddenly feeling as if she had just cheated? Partly to clear her sense of guilt, Amara decided to call Darrell; to let him know that she would not be getting home till late, in case he wanted to come over. Thankfully, Darrell was no believer in calling anywhere unannounced, even at his own girlfriend’s. Amara had long concluded that it was the accountant in him.
“Hey, honey,” Amara said when Darrell came on the line.
“Hi babe,” Darrell said. “Good day? You must be getting off soon, are you?”
“I’m having a late one tonight, I’m afraid. How are you doing, you okay?”
They chatted for some minutes, updating each other on their day. Amara explained that she would not get home until past 9 PM, if he wanted to come over later. He said that sounded like a great idea, adding that he could do with another serving of her sweet, wet pussy after the sort of day he was having. They laughed.
And then, a daring Amara said: “Honey, do you think there’s a bit of lesbian in every girl?”
“Whoa!” Darrell was caught by surprise. “That’s a hell of an opener, especially for a girl talking to her boyfriend. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Elaborate?” Amara asked. “What’s there to elaborate? I’m asking if you think there’s a bit of a lesbian in every woman. You know; your mum, your sister, your aunties,” then followed a short pause before Amara added: “Me….”
“I can tell you that most guys think there’s some truth in that. You know, the way you guys hug, kiss, share clothes, underwear, cuddling each other during sleepovers….”
“Okay.”
“Even the way you girls compliment each other’s looks. You do not find guys commenting so freely about other guys being hot or nice-looking. But for girls; oh my god. It’s all about, ‘she’s so beautiful, so pretty,’ et cetera. So, There’s certainly a level of feminine interaction and intimacy that is sensual enough to be erotic. But whether every girl would at one point or another want to lick pussy is something I can’t answer. But….”
“Yes, but….?”
“That’s not what I meant when I said for you to elaborate. I meant that something must surely have happened to bring you to this question.”
“Right,” Amara said. “But do you think that it’s possible for a non-lesbian woman to get aroused by feminine or lesbian-type sexual stimuli?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Darrell sounded more than sure. “A guy is unlikely to get aroused by, say, watching another guy jerk off. Well, unless he leans that way, you know. But a straight woman can easily get turned on watching another woman play with her pussy.”
“You are certainly right about that,” Amara said.
“So, would you now care to elaborate? Now that I’ve answered your question….”
“Uhm, wait….” Amara said. “Would it bother you if I got turned on by a girl?”
“As a momentary thing, no, not really. Us guys can be funny like that. It’s a totally different matter if we are discussing another guy. That sort of thing must forever be confined to ‘fantasy land’ and never to be talked of, ever. But with girls, well, you know…. As long as you are not about to cross over to the other side or to start a clandestine, parallel lifestyle, that shouldn’t bother most guys. It certainly wouldn’t bother me.”
“Right,” Amara said.
“Okay, now the suspense is killing! Who came onto you, and what happened?”
“I don’t even know where to start. You cannot imagine what happened to me today,”
“Okay, shoot,” Darrell said.
“I almost got fired, and then I had an intensely lesbian moment.”
“Whoa!” Darrell exclaimed. “Do you care to slow down just a notch? Did you just say you almost got fired? What did you do? Are you okay?”
“There was an incident at the office,” Amara said, simply.
“An incident? What kind of incident? Are you okay? Is everything okay? Are you in trouble?”
“No, it’s all been resolved now, but it is kind of why I’m working late.”
“Phew! Okay, that’s a bit of a relief. So, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Melissa caught me masturbating in my office, today.”
“Melissa? As in your boss Melissa? And, wait a minute… Did you just say ‘masturbating?’”
“Yes, honey. My boss caught me masturbating in my office today.”
“Oh my god, babe? I’m not sure whether to be cross or excited right now. Why were you masturbating in your office? No, forget that, what did Melissa do?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“You bet!” Darrell said.
“I think Melissa has developed an obsession with my panties.”
“What makes you think that?”
“She confiscated my panties…and…and…and then…” Somehow, Amara couldn’t bring herself to describe how Melissa had proceeded to bring the gusset of her panties to her nose and sniffed it.
“Confiscated your panties! Wow! What on earth for?”
“So, anyway, that was the lesbian experience that I told you about.”
“Did she come onto you? Mind you, with a pussy and ass like yours, I wouldn’t blame her.”
“Look at you… I would expect you to be angry, not to be deriving some lewd pleasure.”
“Hey….take a pause, young lady. You are the one who got caught with your panties down, not me. Alright, then here goes: You managed to work it out…what did that involve? Don’t tell me, she decided to make you lick her out instead of firing you. You better tell that Melissa to keep her prying hands to herself—unless I’m on the scene with a camera….”
They both laughed.
“She didn’t come onto me at all, but she made it clear that she was very interested in my panties.” Then Amara dropped her voice to a whisper: “She said she wanted to know if my pussy smelled exactly like hers.”
Darrell let out a hearty laugh.
“Wow!” he said. “That doesn’t leave all that much to the imagination.”
“But she never came onto me, and she told me not to worry, and that she was not going to come onto me; that she was no closet lesbian.”
“Yeah, I can see how that could be confusing. Here’s a woman who is interested in the smell of your pussy, and yet says she does not intend to come onto you. I can see why you asked the question in the first place.”
“Exactly,” Amara said. “So, she figured that she would derive the smell of my pussy from my panties, and hence the obsession with my panties.”
“I’d never even dream of saying this if this was a guy, babe. But seeing as it’s just our Melissa, why don’t you play along with it and see for yourself what she really wants?”
“Are you encouraging me to have a lesbian encounter with my boss?”
“I wouldn’t exactly describe it as encouraging. Let’s just say, I’m a very neutral third party…”
“Darrell, I’m not gonna have lesbian sex with Melissa. Besides, I’m not even sure she is one.”
“But her interest in the smell of your pussy, plus the obsession with your panties; all that tells me that she is turned on by you. As in it’s not just a friendly interest. Maybe she would never act upon it, but the idea of smelling your pussy turns Melissa on.”
“I know. It’s so weird to even think about it.”
“That’s why I’m saying, you know, don’t pursue it, but certainly don’t pull the breaks on too hard. And you are always in control. You don’t have to go all the way.”
“I see…” Amara said.
“So, while all this was going on, what about you? How did it all make you feel?”
“Oh, Darrell,” Melissa cried. “I was gushing. I gushed, and gushed and gushed; like a bitch on heat.”
“That’s my girl” Darrell said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As Amara and Darrell shared another laugh, her phone sounded the notification for an incoming call. To Darrell, she said: “Hold on,” and then looked at the screen to find it was Keaton again. Into the phone: “Honey,” she said, “I’ve got another call coming through. Let’s finish this discussion later okay? And do let me know if you want to come round and ravage my pussy. I could do with a rock-hard dick tonight. I should be home by nine-thirty.”
“Alright, babe,” Darrell said. “That sounds like a good plan. I think I’ll be done then too. Do you have your car today, or shall I come and pick you up?”
“No, babe, I’m driving,” Amara said. “I’ll meet you at the apartment.”
“Catch you later, then. I love you.”
“Aww! That just sounds delicious!”
“Keaton,” Amara said when she took his call out of ‘waiting’ and connected to him. “I certainly was not expecting a call from you so soon.”
“Amara what happened today with Melissa? What did you say to her?”
“I told you,” Amara started. “Nothing. She was concerned about the accident, and wanted to check I was okay. And it was by way of explaining the accident that I told her that I’d had an interesting experience, but couldn’t go into too much detail. I did not tell her anything more than that.”
“Hmmm… I see. How interesting.”
“What? What have you got?”
“Well, your boss just rang me pleading for me to explain to her what I did to you that got you all hot and bothered.”
“Oh my god!” shouted Amara. “Was that all she said? How weird!” In reality, Amara was only asking to check if Melissa had ratted her out for masturbating in the office.
”She just added that she couldn’t wait till tomorrow. Said it was too far away.”
“Well, did you?”
“I had no choice,” Keaton said. “I explained to her that all that had happened was me trying to recruit you onto a survey for a scientific study.”
“Did it work?”
“Melissa didn’t buy the standard bullshit. Straightaway, she asked what the study was about.”
“And what did you say?” Amara closed her eyes as she waited for the answer. She was not disappointed.
“As I said, I had no choice. I told her the truth; that the study was about answering the question of whether nature designed it so that a woman’s face looks exactly like her pussy, and also, whether women knew or thought this about their own pussies.”
‘God, you do say some of the most beautiful things, Keaton,’ Amara thought, but verbally, said: “And what did she say to that?”
“Well, a curious thing indeed. Melissa asked me to read out the title of the study.”
“The title? Why would she be interested in the title? What is the title anyway?”
“Genetically encoded matching of female facia to the physical structure and topology of genitalia in homo sapiens.”
“It sounds better in English,” Amara said. “All I got there is ‘homo sapiens.’ That’s us humans, right?”
“Correct,” Keaton said. “Anyway, there’s a sub-title which reads: ‘Do women’s faces look the same as their vulvae?’ Vulvae is vulvas to you and me; you know, as in the entire area of your genitals. That’s the correct plural.”
“Oh, I love that word!” Amara said. “And that question sounds better: ’Do women’s faces look the same as their vulvae?’ How grand!”
“I suppose you are right.”
“Anyway, so is Melissa happy now?”
“Well not quite.”
“Oh? How so?”
“She said she wanted to see the papers tomorrow, straight after I show them to you.”
“I see,” said Amara. “You might have collected yourself a recruit.”
“I certainly hope so!” Keaton said, and they both laughed.
* * *
Amara glanced at her laptop monitor. The clock read 8:17 PM. Great, she thought. Another hour and that should just about cover all my sins. She had done some great research into grouping the company customers and describing each group. Now she needed to think about what sweet things each group might need so she could market to them properly.
The knock at the door sounded confident and determined. Five, uniform, hard knocks. Amara instinctively passed a quick swipe around her office, looking for any tell-tale signs. She was satisfied with the result.
“Come in!
To Amara’s open mouthed amazement, into her office strode the six foot, medium-build frame of her boyfriend.
“Darrell!” she exclaimed, springing from her chair, sprinting round her desk and leaping at him. Amara’s bare pussy planted itself on Darrell’s shirt, just where his belly-button was. “What are you doing here?” That, in-between soft kisses around Darrell’s face.
“I heard a rumour that there was a damsel in distress in this area,” Darrell said, as Amara’s pussy slid down his body, leaving a streaky, wet patch on his shirt.
“Is that so?” Amara said. “Who’s been spreading rumours about me?”
“Oh, some bird,” Darrell said. “She said there was an evil witch hot on the trail of this damsel, and she needed rescuing quickly, or a spell would soon be cast upon her, turning her into a raving nymphomaniac lesbo.”
“So are you the knight in shining armour sent to rescue this damsel?”
“Well, I’ve got a weapon,” Darrell said, grabbing at his crotch.
Amara laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her meetings area. She might as well have tried to pull at a brick wall. Darrell remained rooted to where he’d set her down.
“Babe, wait,” he said, sounding serious. “First of all, I want you in the exact same place you were when your boss caught you masturbating, and then I want you to lock that door.” As he said this, Darrell turned to point at the door and noticed that the key was in the lock. “Uh-ugh!” A grunt of satisfaction. “I know about this open-door policy of yours around here and I don’t trust it.” Darrell marched back to the door and locked it, his movements determined, his manner set.
When he turned back to face Amara, she was no longer standing in front of her desk. Rather, Amara was sitting in her executive chair, with her right leg on her desk and her left dangling on the floor. She was holding her panties in her right hand, whilst using her left to prise and keep open the petals of her cunt. Darrell walked over, standing in front of Amara’s desk, hungrily leering at her pussy. He needed to stay on his feet to get a good view.
“I think you should stop what you are doing and come round here. We might not have enough space behind your desk. Come over here and repeat what you are doing on one of these chairs.”
“I can go one better,” Amara said. She got up and climbed onto her desk, causing her stationary to scatter around the floor. Amara lay down on her desk, scooting so that her wide-open legs were angled in Darrell’s direction. He took one of the visitor’s chairs, manoeuvring himself so that his face was inches from her pussy.
“Great,” Darrell grunted, his voice heavy with lust.
“Can you see my pussy?” Amara asked.
“Oh god, yes!” Darrell said. “I can see all of your pussy.”
“Does it look like my face?”
“What?”
“Never mind…can you smell it? Can you smell my pussy, honey?”
“Yes, babe. I can smell your pussy.”
“I want you to put your nose on my pussy and sniff it.”
“I can’t wait to sniff your pussy, Amara,” Darrell said. “I can’t wait to put my nose right on your soft lips and then sniff them. Then move my nose to the opening of your cunt, place my nostrils right at the entrance of your vagina and take a nice proper sniff.”
“Then, what are you waiting for?” Amara cried. “Do it! Do it now! Sniff my pussy, baby. Sniff my pussy.” Amara was invitingly moving her hips in a sensuous, rhythmic motion, gyrating them and then finishing each circular motion with three up-and-down humping motions. She was teasing him. Showing off her pussy to him, and invitingly begging him to sniff it.
“No!” Darrell said emphatically. “I want you to show me what you did first?”
“What I did?”
“Yes,” Darrell said. “What you were doing when you got caught by Melissa. So, what were you doing?”
“I wiped my pussy clean with my panties.”
“Is that why she developed an obsession with them?”
“Yes!”
“Show me how you did it. Show me how you wiped your pussy with your panties.”
Amara relaxed back, one leg on each arm of the chair Darrell was sitting in, holding the petals guarding her cunt open with her left hand. And then she repeated her signature move of the afternoon; inch-after-inch, deliberately slower this time, stopping from time to time to use both hands to pull at her pussy lips, ensuring that Darrell had a good view of every tiny fraction of an inch of the piece of material entering her cunt. And from time to time, she simply frantically attached her swollen clitoris.
By the time the panties were completely slotted inside her shuddering vagina, Amara had come three times. Now she lay there, still gyrating her hips, still moving sensuously and still humping her pussy at Darrell.
She felt some hot breathing over her pussy lips and saw Darrell’s head positioned right in her crotch. Oh my god, he’s gonna lick my pussy, Amara thought. He’s gonna stick out his tongue and lap at my lips. Or maybe he wants to sniff at my pussy with the panties inside!
But Darrell did neither.
As his face closed in on Amara’s pussy, Darrell pulled his lips back, baring his teeth. He aimed his incisors at Amara’s vagina, seeking out any protruding piece if material. He made several attempts at this, failing each time. All Amara could feel as she continued slowly dancing and humping was Darrell’s nose repeatedly crushing at her clit and her labia. Several more shots at it, as Darrell continued his attempt with his teeth, meant several more soft collisions between Darrell’s nose and Amara’s clit. Amara felt a ripple cascade down her pussy, followed by another, and another.
As Amara braced for another orgasm, Darrell’s teeth found purchase and he bit hard at the dangling piece of cotton, intent not to let go. Amara’s gyrating and humping was less rhythmic now; less controlled and becoming more and more frenetic. Darrell did not so much pull the panties out of Amara’s pussy as he simply gradually pulled his head up, letting Amara control how much of it she allowed to graze it’s way past her cunt-hole, as she twisted, contorted, gyrated and humped.
And just as before, when the last piece of the material exited Amara’s pussy, it exited with a splashing of her fluids. The panties were once more sodden and dripping right onto Amara’s floor. Her pussy, swollen and still pouring, glistened in the fluorescent light.
Amara opened her eyes to the realisation that Darrell had not only climbed onto the desk and was now propped up on his arms, right on top of her, he was completely naked. He’d been systematically jettisoning piece after piece of his clothes as he’d been pulling at Amara’s panties with his teeth. Then Amara felt it. A rock hard seven and a half inches pressing into her thigh. She tried to manoeuvre it so that it would find the entrance to her pussy. She found it, shifted so that the bulbous tip was just starting to prize her vagina open and braced for penetration. She thrust up, anticipating the sweet invasion, only to find that Darrell had swiftly moved so that his dick was now lodged in the intersection of her vulva and inner thigh.
“Baby, fuck me!” Amara cried. “Fuck me now, please! Please…please…please! Darrell, Fuck me! Fuck me now, I’m begging you!” All the while, Amara kept shifting her hips, her pussy searching for his dick. She tried to use her hands to grasp at that damned cock and insert it herself. But Darrell deftly out-manoeuvred her, each time simply grazing his dick over Amara’s cunt and burying it into her thigh.
“You know I won’t,” he said slowly, his voice filled with passion. “You know that my dick will not fuck you before my tongue fucks you.”
“Yes, I know babe,” Amara breathed. It was one of Darrell’s rules. Another thing that Amara had concluded was the accountant side of him: in the eighteen months that they had dated, Darrell insisted on always making Amara come on his tongue first before he fucked her. Without fail—and she had tried. So today was not going to be any exception. “Go on then, babe. Lick me. Lick my pussy and make me come again.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Darrell said.
And then Darrell pounced.
He grabbed Amara by her thighs and pulled her round so that she was no longer lying diagonally across the desk but along it’s length. More items careened off the desk, cascading to the floor with a loud clutter. He grabbed Amara by her hips and pulled her ass to him. He grabbed both thighs from their insides and firmly spread them wide. Then he scooted down, his mouth bearing down towards her sex.
Amara had expected to feel a wet, hard tongue attacking her clit, or pressing into her labia; maybe even poking at her vagina. But it didn’t. Instead Amara felt Darrell’s hot tongue right on her asshole.
“Babe…!?” she gasped. “You’ve…Oh my god! You’ve never….”
“I know,” Darrell said, breathlessly. “There’s always a first time babe. There is just so much pussy juice around your asshole, it just looked delicious.”
“And it just feels delicious! Oh my god!”
Darrell licked at Amara’s asshole for some time, catching the trickling fluids and raking them up from the anus all the way to the pussy lips. He repeated this action over and over, licking his way up from Amara’s asshole to her pussy until she was whimpering that she couldn’t take any more.
And that was when, without warning Darrell buried his tongue deep inside Amara’s pussy and then proceeded to rotate that tongue, flicking it from side to side and up and down; side to side and up and down; until cum-juice gushed at his mouth and nose. His face was now dripping.
“Now I’m ready,” he said gruffly, as he manoeuvred back on top of Amara.
“Oh, that looks so delicious,” Amara said, as drops of her juices trickled down Darrell’s chin. “Let me taste that, babe. I want to taste my pussy on your mouth.”
“By all means,” he growled, moving in for a passionate kiss. Their lips met, with Amara literally sucking her own cunt juice off Darrell’s face. This was no kiss. She was eating him; eating up her own juices. She planted numerous, sloppy, sucking kisses all over Darrell’s mouth and chin, drinking in every last trace of her vagina.
“Now, I’m ready too,” Amara said.
“Okay,” Darrell said.
“Wait…I want to put you in,” Amara said. “Let me put you in.”
She reached down again, finding Darrell’s dick and grazing her pussy lips with it for a good thirty seconds before positioning it at the gates of heaven and pushing the bulbous head in. Then Amara, again, braced.
Darrell thrust powerfully down towards the hard desk and up into the soft, wet folds of Amara’s pussy. Then he proceeded to deliver an amazing set of thrusts, maintaining a uniform rhythm, delivering thrust after thrust for what must have counted up to several hundred plunges. A dizzying array of sensations assailed Amara’s body and mind, carrying her up to an unbelievable height of sexual arousal.
As the attack at her pussy continued, Amara became vaguely aware of Darrell expertly reaching an arm down under the small of her back, and another under her armpits and being hoisted up and rotated to her side. The thrusting in and out of her vagina did not let up at any moment. It continued at the same even pace, as Amara realised that she was now unbelievably on top, straddling Darrell and pumping her own pussy and ass hard onto his erect prick. More items fell off the desk; the desk-phone, followed swiftly by both in and out trays, several folders, more stationery.
Eventually, Amara collapsed in a heap on top of Darrell as another mind-blowing orgasm invaded her body, starting, this time, from the anus that Darrell had so expertly licked minutes earlier. Her asshole and vagina contracted in unison, contracting and relaxing, contracting and relaxing sweetly as Amara clung to Darrell’s neck, her energy spent. Darrell, on his part, continued uninterrupted in his rhythm, or in the energy of that rhythm, pumping strongly into a trembling Amara.
“Let’s switch over babe,” Darrell said in between his thrusting. “I want to look at your ass while I fuck you.”
And that was how the two lovers ended up with Amara’s ass sticking into the air perpendicular to her desk; with Darrell back on his feet on the floor, and with his penis buried deep inside Amara’s vagina as she was bent over her desk, her face resting on the hard surface, looking to the side.
“What did she say to you?” Darrell panted, as he delivered strong, measured, strokes, pumping into Amara cunt with expert prowess as she whimpered, whined, growled and screamed.
“What…!?”
“Melissa,” Darrell gasped, his thrusting continuing apace. “What did Melissa say to you about your pussy?”
“She said she wanted to know if my pussy smelled like hers.”
“Do you think Melissa wanted to smell your pussy?”
“Oh god yes! I know Melissa wanted to smell my pussy!”
“Like this?” Darrell said, and suddenly withdrew his cock and sunk to his knees, burying his face into the crack of Amara’s ass. Amara spread her knees even further apart to grant Darrell better access as he placed his nose at Amara’s wet vagina and sniffed.
“Oh god, that’s just so delicious!”
“Turn over, babe,” Darrell said. “Turn around and show me your pussy. I’m not done sniffing.”
As Amara turned round so that she was now lying back across the desk, her legs about Darrell’s shoulders.
“I love the way your pussy get’s so wet!” he said, as he drew a chair and sat back in it, his face inches from Amara’s vagina. And then he planted his nose on her clitoris and slid it down all the way to her asshole, all the while sniffing furiously. “I don’t blame Melissa,” he continued. “Your pussy smells like the best meal in the world.”
Darrell used his nose to make love to Amara’s pussy, teasing at her clit, rubbing into her labia, and fucking her cunt-hole with it until Amara gushed again, coming for she couldn’t remember what number time.
And that seemed like the cue for Darrell to withdraw his nose from Amara’s genitals, to get back onto his feet—kicking the chair back so it fell over—and to re-insert his penis into Amara’s orgasming vagina.
This time, he delivered just shy of one hundred strokes. Again, they came with a delicious force. In a steady attack, Darrell’s throbbing prick plunged all the way to the hilt and then withdrew, just so the tip of his glans remained inside the cuntal-entrance, only to plunge back in with great energy—and repeating this in a rhythm that felt more like a dance, as if he were moving in synch with the beats of some hitherto inaudible music.
“Oh, god!” he growled. “Pussy so sweet, so sweet, so sweet!”
And then Darrell shot. And shot. And shot.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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