In Training

I am a thirty-four-year-old housewife who has never done more than fantasize about extramarital affairs. That is no longer the case. My husband's organization moves us frequently, and as a result I have learned to form friendships quickly. After arriving at our present location in June, I began my morning running routine, which I do to stay in super shape. My hips are slim, my ass is rock hard, and I have a pair of very sensitive and well-shaped C-cup breasts. 

The first few mornings I ran alone, but the third day the couple next door introduced themselves. Jane, the wife, related that she ran with a group of wives at a nearby lake and brushed aside all excuses until I agreed to join them for their runs. 

Jane is taller and slimmer than I, with a beautiful face, naturally dark red hair, long, attractive legs, and delicate hands. Although only two years older than me she has a forceful way about her that makes her seem quite authoritative and before long she had recruited me into her daily activities - and into something unexpected 

After our morning runs Jane insisted that we properly warm-down. This came to mean an hour of surprisingly intimate girl-talk in their jacuzzi, followed by a brisk scrub-down in their double shower and generous applications of moisturizing lotion to our bodies. I soon found myself looking forward to our training sessions and did not find it strange when her offer to wash my back occasionally turned into our showering together. 

One day we visited one of the better women's clothing stores downtown and began trying on clothes in a large, private changing room. Jane has exquisite taste and told me to dis-robe while she brought various outfits to try on. Commenting on the plain nature of my underwear, she soon brought me a very revealing bra-and panties set. I could tell that I looked riveting in them and felt a rush of excitement as I stood, nearly nude, before her scrutinizing stare. An awkward moment passed before she slipped her fingers under the elastic band of the panties and pulled until they tightly cupped the pouting lips of my vagina. Satisfied that the panties would fit properly, Jane asked if the bra would fit when I experienced the monthly swelling before my period. Before I could respond, she remarked decisively that we should find out for certain. Acting with assurance she reached around me from behind, undoing the front clasp of the lace-trimmed bra and slipping it up over my nipples. I stood passively, fixed by the stare of her eyes in the full length mirror as she cupped a breast in each hand and began methodically rotating them in deep circles. The strength of her hands was evident. The soft skin of my breasts was slowly stretched to a point just short of pain until they began to ache with pleasure. 

Her manner was very matter-of-fact, and I tried to appear unaffected as well, but her penetrating gaze could see the weakness in my eyes and her hands continued kneading my sensitive mounds. Encouraged by my lack of resistance, Jane switched her technique and began milking my tits, forcefully cupping the base of each breast, she moved her hands slowly forward until her thumb and forefinger squeezed my enlarged nipples, pulling them outward, away from my body. My brain wanted to protest but my body began to yield. Melting from the fire that raced from my nipples, I soon slumped against her and realized a new surge of excitement as I watched my breasts swell larger under the control of her insistent hands. When I became too weak to stand, she stopped and had me test my swollen breasts in the bra. Satisfied that it was large enough, Jane paid for both articles while I dressed. On the way home she told me to be ready for a special training session the next day, but did not elaborate. But before I got out she asked me if she had hurt me in the dressing room. I said no. Then she asked if I had liked the feeling of her massaging my breasts. The pointed nature of her question left me no choice but to admit that I did, and the knowledge of admitting that I liked it made my legs feel weak. 

After our run the next morning, Jane told me she had discovered a new massage book that she was anxious to try. She told me to shower first while she warmed the oil. I wanted to tell Jane no, but her commanding voice rose above the water and after toweling dry I went to the bedroom 

Jane removed her sweat-soaked shorts and top. The sweet-sour smell of her body was fresh in my nostrils as she had me lie face down in the center of a large rubber sheet on their king-sized bed. Straddling my buttocks, she spread jasmine oil on my back and traced the long muscle groups for about ten minutes. Moving to my feet and lower legs she worked delightfully upward to my inner thighs. Seating herself between my legs she poured the oil lightly on my buttocks in a manner that allowed it to run down the crack of my ass over my anus and onto the rubber sheet. Goose bumps ran down my spine as she traced large circles on my cheeks. Jane pulled my cheeks apart as she circled and allowed the thumbs of her hands to lightly brush my anus on each pass. I tried to squeeze my legs together but I could not because of her position and my pleas for her to stop came out only as a soft moan. Gradually the pressure of fingers on my anus became more forceful and insistent. The wetness of my vagina betrayed the excitement that she was building in me. I felt certain that she could smell its growing muskiness. 

Speaking softly, Jane asked me how it felt. When I hesitated she pressed her thumbs against the ring of my ass and began circling her target in lethargic, gradually penetrating circles. I had never before experienced anything as powerfully sexual. My attempted response stuck in my throat. "Very good," I managed on my second try. 

The delicate rim of my anus began to yield to her well lubricated fingers. Forcing her thumbs together, she eased both fingers into my anus gradually and I could feel my sphincter muscles widen and contract around the knuckles of her fingers as they entered. Without stopping, she reversed their direction but spread them so that my rosebud was forcibly opened to her view. I felt the process repeated, the deep penetration followed by a powerful spreading, until at last she overcame the final resistance of my anal muscles. 

Jane then began to finger-fuck my ass, first with two fingers, then with three and finally stretching me until she was pumping four fingers deep within my ass-hole. The friction that first caused me discomfort soon turned to a penetrating warmth, which, along with the psychological excitement of knowing I was allowing myself to be sexually opened by a woman, began to build me toward orgasm. Sensing my growing needs, Jane slowed her thrusting until I was squirming back against her for more contact. She asked me if I liked being fucked in the ass by her. When I hesitated she sped up her thrusting until I loudly exclaimed, "Please fuck me, Jane,” and reached back with both hands to spread my straining cheeks apart. I built rapidly with each straining thrust, but as my moans signaled the approach of climax she withdrew her fingers from my pulsating hole and rolled me over on my back, pinning my arms at my sides. I couldn't believe this was all happening. 

No longer reluctant, I rubbed my thighs together in a vain attempt to come, Jane stared into my pleading eyes and whispered, "I'm going to make you mine," whereupon she leaned forward and covered my mouth with her soft lips. The penetration of her tongue through my yielding teeth symbolized the domination I realized that I needed. Sucking her tongue I aggressively returned her kiss and felt her warm, firm breasts press possessively against my nipples and begin sliding toward my mouth. I pulled hungrily at her thrusting brown nipple with my lips, but her sliding continued until my lips tasted the beads of perspiration that clung to her pubic hair. Straining forward my tongue encountered first the shaft of her clitoris and then the sticky, protruding love nipple itself. Pulling her clit out of its hood with my lips, I proceeded to lick it clean and suck it tantalizingly like a small penis. Jane sighed, "Suck my cunt,” and slid even higher until her lips were parted by my mouth and nose. She began to rotate her hips, bathing my face with the strong womanly scent of her juices. I licked and sucked her juicy labia, circled her anus in light, teasing strokes, and penetrated the expanding opening of her vagina. 

Moaning her desires, Jane reversed her position and plunged her face into my now aching cunt, where she began licking the swollen knob of my clit. I buried my tongue deep within her vagina and attempted to suck every drop of her love juices. Her fingers found my vagina and one slipped effortlessly in. The nimble stroking of her tongue on my sensitive clitoris took me quickly to pleasure and beyond. The intensity of my orgasm caused me to scream repeatedly as pulse after throbbing pulse ripped through my body. The pungent smell of her juices dominated my thoughts as I clung passionately to her body. Never had my body been so aroused by sexual contact, and I cried out softly at that realization. 

Since then Jane has taken me whenever she wants. Sometimes she will have me remove my panties and will masturbate me in the car just before I get home to my husband. I find this remarkable woman-to-woman irresistible and deeply satisfying. I only hope my husband's next transfer never comes.