Tracy's Legs - Sex Stories

Tracy's Legs

... could see the satiny black fabric of her thong stretch over her full mound, framed by perfect, creamy thighs. “Does my naughty colleague want to kiss them all over, cover her soft, young thighs with her slobber? Perhaps she’d want to kiss even more of her, do wicked, naughty things?” Trudy’s voice was mocking, but I couldn’t care. “God, yes! Please!” Suddenly, Tracy’s fingers were around my wrists and lifting my hands just far enough away that I couldn’t touch her. “Everything comes with a price. Mine’s a thousand dollars, then you can have me for a night.” A night with her? The image exploded in moist, warm sparkles between my legs, but then reality slapped me across the face with an ice-cold hand. “I…” I hung my head, the feeling of loss almost driving tears into my eyes. “I don’t have that much.” “But that’s where I come in,” Trudy whispered next to me. “I’ll buy her as a… gift, of sorts.” “You’d…” I stared at her. There was no softness in her eyes. “What do you get out of it?” “I’ll get to watch…” Again, she tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “...and to take photos.” “No!” I protested. “No photos!” “No photos, no Tracy. It’s easy. But just imagine, you could have her for a whole night. Can you imagine how it would be to slide the stockings down her pretty, young legs, to kiss and lick every inch of her skin, over and over, to taste every part of her that you want to?” Fuck, she knew which buttons to press. But with the photos, I’d be her puppet. If ...

... Morris saw those, I could pack my things. I had to resist... Tracy leaned close and I could smell her flowery, sweet scent. For a moment, I felt dizzy, then she was whispering into my ear. “I’ve seen you stare at my bum. You could kiss it too, lick it, hell, even bite it.” Her lips came close enough to touch my ear, and my whole body burned up with lust. “I think you’re a very naughty woman. Perhaps… yes, I think I’d ask you to kiss me between my bum cheeks. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, to worship that tight, dirty, forbidden little ring?” I moaned. This was my most depraved fantasy, one I had relived over and over before falling asleep while my fingers flew in and out of my gushing snatch and my thumb flicked deliciously over my clit. Tracy knew. “I’d ask you to stick that soft tongue of yours inside, to wiggle it inside my bum, and I’d moan and whimper and gasp with delight. It would be glorious, and naughty. Please.” She slid down from the table’s edge and sat on my lap. Her thumbs brushed my cheeks and left burning lines of desire, and the pretty, pouting lips were just an inch from mine. “Please say yes!” “Yes!” It was a gasp, barely more than a whisper, with which I admitted defeat. I couldn’t resist her. For long weeks, my mind had recalled every little detail of her that it could remember, and each evening had been filled with whispers of her name. Tracy. It had become both a synonym of perfection and a mantra that unleashed every naughty thought I’d ever had. I ...