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A smirk spreads across her face as her eyes beam at me. She thinks she’s funny, taking the mick out of my hair. A new style I’ve decided was a mistake.
She shakes her head at me with a smile.
In annoyance, I pick up the plates and clear the table. I run hot water into the sink with a squirt of Fairy. She giggles as I ignore her pleas to answer her. Once again, the immature, bratty nature of my young lover has come to the fore. Again, I can’t be bothered to answer her.
As I plunge my hands into the hot soapy water to wash up, I hear her chair scrape back on the wooden floor. She knows I hate it. Its not just the noise, but the damage to the oak floorboards.
Her bare feet thud softly as she walks up behind me – I do my best to ignore her. Her arm wraps around my midriff and her hand squeezes my breast.
“Come on honey, don’t be like this.” She whispers into my ear.
I shrug my shoulder, and try to shake her off, but this just encourages her efforts.
“Fuck Bahçelievler travesti off, Iz.”
“Honey, it was just a joke!”
“Jokes are meant to be funny.”
Her lips kiss my neck. I like it, but ignore it. Her fingers unfasten the skinny, shiny black belt at the top of my skirt. Her long fingers, with perfect pink nails press and feel me. I can feel myself melting, I’m putty in her hands.
It’s not long before my designer skirt is circling my stockinged feet on the floor.
“No, Izzie, I’m not in the mood.”
I try to convince her, as much as I try to convince myself.
“You fucking sexy milf. You dirty fucking cougar.”
Her hands rub up my thighs, running over the stocking tops, my soft skin and over my crotch. Her other hand strokes and pats my bum.
“God damn, I love you.”
She kicks my feet apart and bends me over the sink. I sigh heavily as my thong is pulled down my legs. The hem of my white Bahçelievler travestileri tailored shirt sits at the small of my back. Izzies tongue drags up my face before she kisses me and slaps my bare arse.
I turn my head and smile at her, I watch as she sucks her middle finger, her left hand forcefully holding me in place, bent double I don’t resist. I’m excited!
Her wet finger slides into my arse crack, she knows what she’s doing, her finger finds its place instantly. I let out a pathetic shriek, as she teases me, and circles my arsehole.
She presses and taps, I lose my breath. I feel desire overwhelm me. I’ve been looking forward to her touch. I haven’t had sex in over a week, having worked away.
I exhale and grip the ceramic sink. Her saliva-lubed finger drives up into my anus, I scream with joy, I pant with relief and revel in her lust for me.
“I’ve been thinking about how I’d fuck you.”
“Have you?”
Her travesti Bahçelievler finger pushes in, her knuckles pressing hard against me.
“I’m surprised we made it through the glass of wine on the couch. Looking at you and your sexy legs. I’m even more amazed we made it through dinner.”
Her finger screws on the way back out, catching and stretching.
“Ooh, God!” I whine. “Kiss me Izzie, please?”
Her hand releases me and she grabs my hair pulling my face towards her. Her tongue rams into my mouth, I close my eyes and twist my tongue around hers. She pulls me away and pushes me over the sink. My white top skims the foam and the water as my tits bulge.
I complain once more, as a second finger joins the first in my butt at the rim of my arse.
“You protest, but you don’t resist . You’re a slut, my toy. I love you, Jess.”
I process her words, just as her fingers stretch my hole, they move up into me, and I jolt forward, pushing back as I do. My fingers grip the sinks edge more tightly as I gasp for air.
Izzies hand is between my shoulder blades, her legs press into mine and her knees keep me spread. She leans into me, and kisses my neck, her fingers slowly work in and out of my back side.
“Your joke.” I muster. “Do you even know who Lisa Stansfield is?”
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