Surrogates. KD Grace

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      ‘If I had a cock, that’s what I’d want to do, while your little pink tongue darted in and out over the head of my penis every time I thrust.’

      Even in her fevered state, Bel noticed Ellen’s left hand had migrated down between her own legs. Bel couldn’t see what she was doing, but the tight rhythmic knotting and shifting of the muscles in her forearm and the quiver and dance of her breasts told her everything she needed to know.

      ‘Of course if I had a cock, there are other places I’d want to put it first before I fucked your lovely breasts.’ With that the hand that had been massaging her abdomen moved down over Bel’s mound and the slender middle finger gave her clit a tweak that nearly sent Bel into orbit.

      ‘Open your legs for me, sweetheart,’ Ellen whispered. ‘That’s it, darling. Let me massage you where you really need it, where you’ve needed it for ages.’

      Bel opened her legs and shifted ever so slightly towards Ellen to give her better access. With her thumb working Bel’s clit to a raw nub of heat, the woman slipped her middle and index finger down between Bell’s labia and gasped. ‘My goodness, Isabel, is all of this creamy slippery lushness for me?’

      Bell whimpered and nodded and shifted closer to the delicious fingers.

      Ellen offered a throaty chuckle, then gave an inward and upward thrust and a hard rub right against Bel’s G-spot, and Bel drenched the table in a flood of heat that would have embarrassed her if she’d been in bed with Dan. But Ellen shoved her legs wide apart and pushed her face in so close that Bel could feel her breath coming fast and hard against her pout. ‘Oh my God, Bel, you’re exquisite,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve never seen another woman really wet herself with her girly juices. Please, let me look. I need to see you.’ And as she spoke, she applied more pressure to Bel’s G-spot and Bel gushed again and nearly came off the table with an orgasm that had her writhing and twisting, thighs clasping involuntarily around Ellen’s face.

      Ellen made no effort to push Bel’s legs open; instead she settled there in the vice-grip of Bel’s thighs, sniffing and inhaling. Her hands had moved to knead and release, knead and release Bel’s arse cheeks. ‘Mmmm, you smell heavenly, darling. I smell you every time I massage you. Afterwards I always have to leave time between you and the next client so I can take care of my own pussy, and I always come thinking about tasting your juicy fanny that smells so delicious.’ She nipped the inside of Bel’s thigh. Bel opened her legs with a little gasp, and Ellen cupped her buttocks and pulled her right up close to her mouth. And the mouth that had kissed Bel’s lips so deliciously yesterday now kissed and licked her girly lips equally deliciously.

      Bel curled her fingers in Ellen’s soft copper hair and bore down until she was amazed that the woman could even breathe. And that wonderful tongue felt like it had somehow licked and stroked and danced right up inside her, while her mouth tugged and suckled at Bel’s labia and her clit with little nips that made her wet herself anew from the sheer pleasure of it. Surely there would have been a lake beneath her undulating bottom had not Ellen’s greedy mouth lapped and sucked and slurped her wetness like she was some piece of juicy, ripe fruit, split in two, dripping and swollen and begging to be eaten.

      It was a good thing the table was sturdy because the orgasms had graduated from tremors to convulsions and, in what might have been an effort to keep her client safely on the table, Ellen crawled her way up Bel’s body, kissing and nipping as she went, until she was well and truly on top of her, breast to breast, pubis to pubis and mouth to mouth.

      ‘Taste how yummy you are,’ Ellen breathed, coming up from a deep tongue kiss. ‘I’ve never tasted anything so sumptuous.’

      Bel had tasted herself before, but only tentatively on the tips of her fingers after masturbating, nothing like the wet, fecund taste of her on another woman’s face, on another woman’s mouth.

      ‘And now, let’s come together,’ Ellen sighed. She shifted until her thigh was in between Bel’s legs, pressing up tight against her client’s sopping pussy, then she wriggled and manoeuvred until Bel’s thigh was equally pressed between her legs, up tight against the heat of her, the split of her, the unbelievably soft wet of her. Then she began to undulate and writhe. Bel mirrored her motions, shifting her hips, pressing her thigh, tightening her legs against the leg that rubbed her cunt, as Ellen did the same. Undulation became hard shifting. Hard shifting gave way to flat-out thrusting and pumping accompanied by animal grunts and growls, and the table shook beneath them. Muscles tensed and stretched tight. All breathing stopped, and the room was sucked dry of everything but raw, super-heated need. And when Bel was sure she would die in the agony of pleasure, in the bruising vice-grip of Ellen’s thighs, everything shattered and broke apart in a kaleidoscope of colours. Heatwaves and shudders rose up from the centre of both women in the explosion of their release. Each smothered the other in wet kisses and humid giggles before falling limp and breathless in a tangle of arms and legs.