ÂI see you walking from office to office as I go about the business of the day, the manager taking you around, meeting everyone you would work with. Your long mid-back brown hair, done just so for your first day. I go to my office, knowing it will soon be my turn to meet the ‘new girl’ on the floor. The door is pulled outward, held by the manager, as you enter. I stand as you come in, your eyes, a bright brown, face smiling, lips, full, crimson, wanting to make a good first impression, and you do. I move around the desk, taking in your beauty. 25-26, 5’7”, 36c easy, 25, 36 or so, 130#, a loose blue blouse, a loose blue skirt, just below the knees, both hiding a perfect figure, light blue hose, encasing wonderful legs, blue closed toed, flat sandals. I’m taken by your loveliness knowing I must get to know you better, much better.

   ÂYou are introduced. Sarah. What a sweet name, I tell you. I’m Mandi, as I take your warm, soft hand, in mine. I’m told you are just down the way from me and I am the last one to meet you. As you turn to leave, I watch, your ass, dancing, as you walk to the door. I notice a slim seam on the back of your nylons, from your ankles up under your skirt, a shiver runs through me, wondering what was hidden from view. You reach the door.

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   ÂThe months pass and I do see you, moving around the offices, smiling when you see me, your outfits never revealing anything about you. When we would speak, I would touch your arm, smooth a wrinkle in you blouse that always was close to your breasts, brush some unseen object from the front of your skirt, never objecting. We take our lunches together, making small talk about work, the weather or the events of the day.

   ÂYou walk into my office on a Friday to drop a few work items. You are wearing the same necklace outside your blouse, the one from the first day, a small pink heart pendant hanging just above your heart. I ask you about it. You tell me it was a gift from a friend that seems so long ago and a thousand miles away. I walk to you, telling you the clasp is at the pendant and if I may, I will put at the back of your neck, where it belongs, that way we both get a wish. You tell me that would be nice. I take the necklace in my hands, moving the lock back in place, my eyes looking into yours, my fingers lingering, my thumbs lightly rubbing your neck, telling you, make your wish Sarah, make your wish and I will make mine. Your eyes close, breathing in, your lips imperceptibly moving as you breath your wish. I wait, having made mine months before.

   ÂYour eyes open to meet mine. I ask what you have wished for.

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   ÂI meet you after work, walking to the street. We decide on a cab, not wanting to chance the fates of the law. I tell the driver the name of the club and we are on our way, sitting close, talking, my hands touching your arm, your knee as we speak. Arriving, I take your arm and lead you inside to a low table, the double seat behind it. You ask about my Asian ancestry, saying it intrigues you. I tell you I’m half Japanese, half Caucasian, but all American, recounting stories of years gone by and we laugh, your hand in mine, my thumb caressing between your fingers. Our drinks go down easily and I am a little bolder in my touches, my hands going a little further than your knee, a little closer to your breasts. To soon it is time to go.

   ÂWe catch a cab, doubling the ride to our homes, telling you I will come get you in the morning to pick up our cars. We approach my house, my moment to find if your wish is the same as mine. I ask if you will come in for a nightcap, I will show you my home. Your eyes meet mine, your hand no longer a stranger, on my knee, saying yes, I would like that, I’m sure it is much nicer than my small apartment.

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   ÂFixing a cocktail, I ask why you wear clothes that hide. You blush, saying they make you feel comfortable. I ask if you would like to try one of my wide shouldered tank tops, telling you it would compliment your figure. You hesitate. Then, yes, why not. I take you to my bedroom, picking out a pink one. You change in the bath. When you come out I tell you how lovely you look, walking you to the three sided mirror, saying, look at yourself, your beautiful.

   ÂYou say it doesn’t look right. I comment it Must be because of the bra, a dark blue thing, and maybe you should take it off, then look again. ‘Maybe’, and remove the top, tilting your head back, shaking back your long, brown hair, unclasping your bra, your firm breasts revealed to me for the first time. I’m gazing at you in the mirror, your breasts pushing away from your chest, tipped with smallish, light brown nipples. I breathe in sharply, the site sending an electric signal from my eyes to my pussy, an intense tingle inside.

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   ÂYou slip the top over your head. I move behind you, saying, Sarah, let me help you, taking the bottom hem in my hands, pulling it to your waist.

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   ÂMy hands move up, cupping your breasts, one finger brushing against a nipple, your eyes slowly opening, watching me, moving one hand to the button at the side of your skirt, undoing it, sliding the zipper down, then your hand to mine, bringing it down across your flat stomach, placing it inside the top of the skirt, your hand leaving mine, up to your free nipple, lightly pinching, your ass pushing into my hips.

   ÂSarah, my lovely Sarah, we are too far gone to turn back. My hand goes further, into your skirt, inside your panties, closer, my middle finger along your wet slit. I press between your moist, warm folds sliding inside, a low ‘mmmm’ escaping your throat. I slide out, to your clit, pressing softly, my fingertip, touching, back, forth, like I do to myself. (as I’m doing to myself now) Urging you closer, closer. It took only moments, your body stiffening, your head on my shoulder, moaning deep in your chest, coming, coming. I look at you in the mirror, my flower, wet, full, asking for it’s own release, as you shudder against me, your body relaxing into my arms

   ÂSubsiding, you turn around, my hand leaving your warmth, the skirt falling to the floor, showing the garter I knew was going to there, our arms around one another, your face moving closer to mine, our lips touching, tentative, kissing, then passionately, your hand, under my skirt, squeezing, pulling me to you, your sweet tongue inside my mouth, sparring with mine, sealing our wants, our desires.

   ÂStanding in front of the mirror, your tongue darts, playing in my mouth, mine pushing back, to court yours, parting only as you remove my top, my bra, dropping them on the floor, then back to my wanting lips. I tug at the hem of your top, our lips parting once more, as it joins the growing pile of clothing on the floor, our lips joined again, our hard nipples pressing together, the hot breath from your nose, a wind, feather light, blowing across my cheek, a hand undoing my skirt, my hips moving back, to let it, also, meet it’s predecessors.

   ÂI want to be naked next to you, my thumbs in the waistband of your panties, my mouth away from yours, looking into your eyes, saying ‘Let me’ as I remove first yours, then my own, leaving only your stockings and garter, telling you to wear them for me.

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   ÂI’m shaking. I place my hand under your chin, lifting your face to mine, my almond shaped eyes, gazing into my sweet Sarah‘s.

   ÂLet me be the first, Sarah, let me be the one. Your deep, soulful eyes tell me yes.

   ÂI take your hand, leading you to my bed, laying you on your back, your head on my pillows, my knees between your lower wings, helping you spread them for your first flight, my face close to yours, my body over yours, our nipples lightly touching. My lips whisper against yours.

   ÂSarah…my sweet, sweet Sarah. I have been dreaming of this moment. Our lips touch softly, now parting as I move my tongue over your chin, around your neck to your ear, touching the outside, breathing into your ear, Sarah. Ohh, Sarah. My lips moving to you neck, one arm behind your knee, my hand on your firm, smooth ass, my tongue across the top of your soft, yielding breast, leaving a line of wetness for you to follow as you watch. Closer, closer.

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   Â“Yesss, Mandi, Yesssss!” Your head back…to one side…into my pillows, taking in the scent of where I sleep, my dreams now a reality. I part your rosebud, entering the tip of my finger, moving away from your nipple, my free arm behind your yet unopened wing, my tongue, my lips moving to your navel, to first one hip, then across to the other, the tip of my finger toying, my tongue back to your abdomen.

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   ÂMy lips move up, to your inner thigh, touching lightly, to your knee, down again to that fragrant flower, my tongue just touching it’s full, pink petals, your breath racing into your lungs, my mouth, a brush, painting your second wing, touching it with my lips, my tongue tickling the underside of your knee. (You are so close, my love. I have barely touched you!) My mouth moves down your thigh, to the edge of you wet, warm pussy, licking, teasing you. I reach up, taking your hands, placing them behind your knees, pushing them up over your arched back to your breasts, telling you to keep them there, the whole of your sweetness exposed to my waiting tongue, my wanting lips . (so close, my sweet. Let me be the one that parts the folds…my lover, my Sarah!)

   ÂMy tongue extends, my lips touching the bottom of your pussy, sweet cream flowing from you, reveling in the first taste of you. My mouth moves up an inch, separating you, my tongue, pushing inside, the contact of my full, wet lips on your dew covered petals making the air rush into your lungs, my nose coaxing you’re your desire from it’s hiding place. My tongue moves to touch it’s growing hardness, my lips closing around it, capturing your last defense. Our eyes meet, knowing, knowing I will take you to heights never reached.

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   ÂYou are mine, mine for the taking, but only when I decide you are ready. I move to the skin in between your ass and your pussy, touching it with my tongue, lightly tickling, my lips moving to your rosebud, tasting it’s musky flavor, the scent of your sweetness, my tongue circling, pushing into your forbidden fruit, my nose in the petals of the most beautiful flower, my senses overwhelmed. You breath deeply, wanting me back, begging me back to your aching clit. I can deny you no longer. My tongue flattens between your folds in a long, last taste of you. My finger pushes into your rose. Your stem, between my lips, sucking, slashing, relentless, bringing you to the top of your flight, your breath in short spurts as I let you go, flying, soaring into your orgasm. Coooooooming, wings spread in ecstasy, coooooming, my lips not letting you falter as discover the intimate pleasure, the joy only another woman can bring you.

   ÂYou glide back to earth, tremors running up your spine, as your pussy spasms, your ass clenching at my invading finger. Your back falls to the bed, your lungs filling with much needed air, your first flight over, wanting to take flight again.

   ÂI move up to you, over you, our nipples touching once again, the scent of our love heavy, pushing us together, keeping us in each others arms.

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Mandi

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