Sensual Lesbian Sex

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The first time I saw her was on the elevator at work. She slid in just as the doors were closing, pressed floor 8 – one floor lower than mine – and turned towards the doors. I guessed her age to be somewhere between 25 and 30, leaning to the 25 side. She had the kind of hair only models have – thick, flowing and very blonde, falling well down her back. She was the kind of woman that stood out in any environment – the kind that drew looks not just from men, but from women as well.


Standing near the door as she was, my eyes were drawn naturally to her backside. She wore a black skirt that came to just above her knees, with a small, stylish slit in the back. The beige colored blouse was stylish in a business sense without hiding the fact that its wearer was definitely a woman. Smoke colored nylons and high heel shoes completed the ensemble. Simple put, her sex appeal was undeniable.



I should point out that, despite that one encounter back in college, I was not a lesbian. Nor did I have any leanings in that direction. Still, there was something about this woman that grabbed at me.



My wandering thoughts were interrupted as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. As the young woman stepped through the door she stopped and turned towards me.



She smiled seductively and winked before turning and disappearing down the hall.



* * *



It was a week before I saw her again. As before, it was on the elevator, only this time we weren’t alone. I hadn’t seen her in the lobby waiting, but she’d somehow managed to slide in just as the doors were sliding closed. She once again pressed the button for the 8th floor before moving to the opposite wall and turning my way.



She looked at me without smiling, allowing her eyes to slowly take in my entire body. When her eyes finally returned to mine I blushed and turned away.



I stood there nervously, very much aware that her eyes were still on me, until she finally exited on her floor.



As the day progressed I found my thoughts frequently drifting back to those few moments on the elevator. For some reason, I was unable to purge her from my mind.



* * *



I saw her again a week later, also on the elevator. As with the last time, I was unable to hold her gaze after she looked me over.



It wasn’t until later that evening as I lay in bed with thoughts of her filling my head that it dawned on me – all three times I’d seen her had been on Friday mornings.



* * *



The week passed slowly. I found myself unable to get the mysterious woman completely off my mind. I was forced to acknowledge mentally what my body already knew – there was something about this woman that excited me. I wasn’t really sure where our silent weekly flirtation was taking us, but I was pretty sure I wanted to find out.



The next Friday morning I rose early. After my shower I went to the closet to pick out the day’s outfit. With thoughts of her floating through my head, I picked out a white tight fitting skirt with a slit in front from the knee level hemline to just above mid-thigh. I topped the skirt with a frilly bra and semi-sheer gold blouse that I left unbuttoned to mid-breast level. With white high-heel shoes and frosted nylons to complete the outfit, I stepped in front of the mirror.



I examined my reflection in the mirror. Not too bad for a 33-year-old, I thought. My auburn hair was full and thick, falling just over my shoulders. My breasts, encased in their B-cup bra, fit my 5’6″ frame well. I turned sideways, moving one foot slightly forward to expose my thigh. I ran my hands gently over my tummy to smooth out the blouse and smiled. The time spent jogging and working out had definitely been time well spent.



I took one final look in the mirror. At best, the image that stared back at me was barely suited for an office environment. But that morning I didn’t really care. After all, it was not the office personnel I had on my mind as I turned and headed for the front door, an undeniable dampness already forming in my panties.



* * *



Once again, she slid through the elevator doors just before they closed, pressed the button for the eighth floor and moved to the wall opposite where I stood. There was one other person on the elevator.



As was her habit, she looked me over carefully as the elevator started up. But this time I didn’t look away when her eyes returned to mine. She smiled as the elevator opened on the sixth floor and the man stepped out. The doors slid closed, leaving just the two of us. Neither of us said a word.



Finally, just as the doors slid open on her floor, she spoke.



“You look very sexy today, Karen. Whoever you dressed for is a very lucky person.” With that she turned and walked away, the doors sliding closed behind her.



The rest of the morning seemed to drag forever, with the mystery woman never leaving my thoughts. She knew my name! How did she know my name? Just who was this woman that passed through my life each week?



* * *



At 11:30 that same morning a messenger delivered a dozen white roses to my desk. Although there was no card attached I had a pretty good idea of the sender’s identity.



As you’d expect in an office environment, the arrival of flowers at someone’s desk brought on an instant onslaught of admirers – mostly of the female persuasion. It was one of these women that noticed that there were only eleven roses in the bouquet.



When 12:30 arrived I left for lunch with some other women in the office. We went to a restaurant just around the corner from the office. About 5 minutes after we were seated, she walked in.



She took a table midway across the floor from ours, taking a seat facing directly at me. She then opened her purse and pulled out a single white rose – the missing rose from my dozen – and twirled it slowly in her fingers. There was just the hint of a smile on her lips as she set the rose on the table in front of her.



The 45 minutes that it took to finish our meal seemed to last forever. Every time I looked her way, I found her looking at me. And believe me, I looked her way a lot. When we finally finished lunch and started back to work, I caught a glimpse of her exiting the restaurant behind us. I felt a nervous excitement as I imagined her sharing our elevator back at work. To my great disappointment, however, when the elevator doors finally slid closed, she was nowhere to be found.



* * *



The end of the day arrived, bringing with it a tremendous desire to head for my favorite store and buy something sexy. The store, a small clothing boutique, was located in a nearby mall. I spent a good part of an hour there – snooping through the racks and trying things on.



Satisfied with my selections, I paid and headed out the door. To my surprise, seated on the edge of a brick planter near the front of the boutique was my mysterious stranger.



I stopped in my tracks and looked directly at her. I then took a long, deep breath and started towards her. I’d only taken two steps when she stood up and turned to leave. I stopped again, this time watching as she walked away from me.



She went perhaps twenty steps before looking over her shoulder. When she saw that I wasn’t following her, she stopped. She turned her head away from me, looking in the direction she’d been walking, and then looked back my way. And she waited.



When I once again started towards her she smiled, turned and started walking. She did not look back to see if I was still behind her.



She walked into the large, trendy bookstore near the end of the mall. I picked up my pace so as not to lose her. I needn’t have worried, however, as she slowed her pace dramatically, allowing me to nearly catch her.



She turned down a side isle, walking about halfway down before stopping and turning towards the shelf. I stopped several feet away, not quite confident enough to go any closer. I then turned towards the shelves and waited.



She made a small coughing noise, causing me to turn back towards her. I then watched as she slid a book out about one-inch. Her hand then moved to a different shelf and repeated the process with a second book. She turned my way, making sure I’d seen, before turning and walking away.



I hesitated a moment. Finally curiosity overcame fear and nervousness. After all, I’d gone that far, hadn’t I? I moved the few feet to the marked books and slid out the first book.



It was a book on lesbians. I slid the book back quickly, looking around nervously. Nobody was there. I waited a second for my nerves to quiet down before reaching for the second book. It was a book about sex games.



My knees were shaking as I quickly pushed the book back in. I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths as I digested what I’d seen. I’d only taken a brief look at the cover of the books. The lesbian book didn’t surprise me. It was, after all, where I knew we were heading. The book on sex games, on the other hand, was not expected.



Exactly what kind of sex games was she referring to and just how far was I willing to go? I couldn’t answer the first question, and at the moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer the second. What I was sure of, however, was that for some unknown reason, I trusted this mysterious woman.



So I turned and hurried to the end of the bookshelf, turning in the direction she’d turned.



As it turned out, I never found her. I was left that night to wonder if I’d blown it, if I’d hesitated too long in the book store. I finally drifted off to sleep with the thought that next Friday I would set things right.



* * *



As I made my way through the next week, I found myself unable to shake Friday’s events from my mind. The more I thought about those events, the more they consumed me. By the time Thursday night rolled around, the final bits of my denial had crumbled. If I hadn’t admitted it before, I had no choice but to admit it now. I was hooked! And no amount of squirming was going to free me.



I picked out Friday’s clothes before heading to bed, taking extra time to pick out the sexiest outfit I could professionally get away with. Satisfied, I went to bed, but sleep came slowly as thoughts of her kept dancing through my head.



Finally, Friday morning came. I rose, grabbed a cup of coffee, showered and dressed. After one more cup of coffee I was off to work, butterflies flittering in my stomach.



I entered the lobby of the building and made my way to the elevator. There were two other women waiting, neither of them her. The elevator came and we stepped inside. I pressed the button and turned towards the door, waiting expectantly. She didn’t come.



An instant before the doors closed I panicked, jabbing my finger on the ‘open door’ button. With nervous apologies to the other riders, I scampered through the doors. I looked around hopefully, but she still wasn’t there. It was Friday, wasn’t, I questioned. Was I too early? Too late?



After a moment’s indecision, I left the building and headed for the corner drug store. I picked up a pack of gum and headed back to the office. As before, when the elevator doors finally closed behind me, she wasn’t there.



Negative thoughts were coming at me from all directions. Clearly I’d done something wrong, something to cause her to lose interest. But what? My thoughts went back to the bookstore. That was the last time I’d seen her. I’d only hesitated a moment before I went searching for her. Surely that brief hesitation couldn’t be the reason, could it?



As the elevator doors slid open on my floor I sighed and made my way back to my desk.



At lunchtime I headed back to the restaurant we’d visited the prior Friday. Nothing. After work I went straight for the bookstore. I even pulled the two books from the shelves and looked through them, unconcerned with whether anyone saw me or not. But my mystery woman was nowhere around.



I finally gave up and headed home to the safe, quiet confines of my apartment. I didn’t eat much that night – nothing sounded good. After a little television I headed to bed, tossing and turning my way through the night.



As I did every Saturday morning, I rose at 8:00 AM and had a cup of coffee on the balcony while reading the paper. By 8:45 I had donned my jogging outfit – a white sports bra and a pair of silky red shorts that did wonders for my ass and thighs – and headed for the apartment door.



But when I opened my front door I stopped short. There she was, standing in the hallway across from my apartment door. She was wearing cutoff blue jean shorts that didn’t quite cover her ass, a red t-shirt, and sandals. She carried a larger than normal purse over her shoulder.



I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She, apparently, didn’t suffer the same shyness.



“Going someplace?” she asked.



“Yes, umm, I was just going . . .” but then I stopped, never finishing the thought. “I missed you yesterday,” I blurted out instead.



“I know,” she smiled. “I was watching.”



She saw the questioning look on my face and laughed lightly. “Yes, watching,” she continued. “In the office lobby, at the restaurant, and at the bookstore – I saw it all.”



“But . . . why?”



She stepped forward, placed her hand on my chest and pushed me gently back into the apartment. “My dear,” she whispered as she kicked the door closed behind her. “I had to be sure.”



She came at me slowly, backing me against the wall. I was certain she could hear my heart pounding in my chest. When she reached out to stroke my cheek, I closed my eyes.



“Where’s the bedroom,” she asked.



I opened my eyes. “Down there,” I said, nodding towards the end of the hall.



She held out her hand. “Take me there.”



I hesitated for a moment before finally finding the nerve to take her hand and start towards the bedroom. Once in the room, she set her purse on my dresser and looked around.



“It’s a very nice room, Karen,” she said. “Much like I imagined it.”



She then moved to the end of the bed and sat down, patting the bed beside her. “Come sit with me.”



I stood there and shook. I couldn’t help it – I was petrified, nervous and more excited than I’d ever been in my life – all at the same time! And somehow amid all those emotions, I’d forgotten how to walk.



She looked at me, saw my predicament, and laughed. She rose to her feet, stepped towards me and slipped her arms around me.



“It’s okay,” she said in a soft, comforting voice. Then she pulled me against her and eased my head onto her shoulder. She swayed slowly as she ran one hand through my hair and the other over my back. I could feel the tension easing as I allowed my body to melt against hers.



She backed away just a bit as she moved her hands to the sides of my face. She held me there for the briefest of moments, before leaning forward and planting tender little kisses on my lips. Finally, she backed away, took hold of my hands, and led me to the side of the bed.



She released me, slid off her sandals, and eased onto the bed, taking a position on her side near the middle of the bed. She looked towards me but didn’t say a thing.



I lowered myself to the edge of the bed and bent over to untie my shoes.



“Don’t,” she said. “I’ll take care of that later.”



I smiled at her uncertainly and eased onto my side beside her.



We lay there silently, just looking at each other, until she reached out her hand and laid it on my shoulder. She allowed the hand to wander down my arm and onto my hip.



I reciprocated, reaching my hand out nervously and stroking her arm. She smiled encouragingly as our hands continued exploring each other’s body.



We lay there for what must have been ten or fifteen minutes, our hands quietly exploring each other without ever violating our clothing. By the time she finally spoke I was so turned on I would’ve done anything.



“Roll onto your back and slide over here,” she said patting the bed in front of her.



I did as she instructed without hesitation.



She then leaned her head over mine, allowing her long blonde hair to fall down around us, and kissed me lightly on the lips.



“Wait here,” she said as she rolled over and climbed off the bed.



I lifted my head and watched as she stepped over to my dresser and opened her purse. When she turned around, there were two three-foot lengths of rope in her hands – each with one end tied in a small loop – and a pair of scissors



She sat on the edge of the bed, placed the scissors on the nightstand and took hold of my hand. She slipped the loop of one piece of rope over my wrist and slid the slip-knot snug. She then moved to the head of the bed and tied the other end to the head board. With the other piece of rope in hand, she moved around the bed and repeated the process with the other hand. When she’d finished, my hands were tied tautly and securely to the headboard. Throughout the entire procedure, I hadn’t uttered a single word.



While still sitting on the edge of the bed she reached over and ran her fingers lightly over my cheek and across my lips. My lips opened to accept her fingertips, sucking on them briefly before they were withdrawn.



She rose to her feet, moved to the foot of the bed and looked down on me, much like a master would look on a beloved pet. Her hands then moved slowly to the button of her shorts, released it and eased the zipper down. She slid the shorts seductively down her legs and stepped out of them. When she stood up, she was left with just her red t-shirt – which didn’t quite reach her belly button – and a pair of red panties with ties on each side.



She eased herself onto the bed, crawling up until she was able to straddle my tummy. Then, after a brief hesitation, she took hold of the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing a beautiful red lacy bra to match her panties. The bra was very flattering to a bust line that needed very little help at all.



But all I could do was lie there and look.



She ran her hands over herself teasingly – from her hips, to her sides, to her tummy and to her breasts – as she rocked her panty clad pussy slowly over my tummy. And then with an agonizing slowness, she freed the front clasp of her bra.



For a moment the bra hung tentatively to her breasts, denying those beautiful orbs their release until her hands slid the straps off her shoulder, allowing the unwanted bra to fall free. She sat above me, now naked except for her panties, and allowed me to drink in her beauty.



“Is this what you’ve wanted,” she asked teasingly as she massaged her breasts.



“Yes,” I said in a gasping voice, my anxiousness obvious. But I was helpless to act.



She slid her hands down to her panties and took hold of their tie strings. She pulled the ends slowly, allowing the bows to get smaller and smaller until suddenly, they were gone. Then she pulled the tiny red garment forward between her legs, revealing a hairless pussy. My beautiful mystery woman was now completely naked, perched atop my hungry, yet helpless body.



She leaned forward slightly, draping the panties over my mouth and nose so I could smell the desire in the already wet panties.



“See what you’ve done to me,” she purred. “I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you. And now the wait is almost over.”



She dragged the panties across my face, tossed them to the floor, and grabbed the scissors from the nightstand. Smiling, she touched the cold steel against my neck, dragging it down until it reached the shoulder strap of my sports bra. She parted the blades and slid them around the strap. A few snips later and the strap snapped free.



She then slid the blade across my chest to my other shoulder, repeating the process. Finally, she slid the cutters back across my chest, onto the bra and down between my breasts. This material proved tougher to cut than the straps, but eventually it, too, was conquered. And when the last snip went through the material, the bra sprung back, almost – nut not quite – freeing my breasts.