We met through an online ad, which, by today’s standards, is neither surprising nor uncommon. But this was some years ago, and I was as hesitant about answering her ad as she was about placing it. The fact that I DID was, as it turned out, nothing short of serendipity–for once I met her, I knew I had to have her. What I didn’t (and couldn’t) know, however, was how much she would risk in order to be with me. The ad said something to the effect of: Bi-curious petite blonde female, 24, mommy of a perfect two-year-old son, and new to the area. Lonely, with hubby out to sea. In search of similar female for friendship and possibly more. It was short, simple and to the point; no picture…and yet its understated simplicity screamed to me on a web page over-run with ads featuring histrionic and otherwise outlandish ploys for attention. She’d only been in the area a few months, a hazard of the military lifestyle—something I could relate to as both a veteran and, now, a dependent wife. What really struck me about the situation was that she was not only in the USN (as I was once), but she was also in the same exact field as I’d been. (Without getting into specifics, I will say that this particular field requires intense scrutiny in terms of personal character and background, which put me to ease a bit, since I at least knew she couldn’t be criminal or demented). There was an instant camaraderie borne of that and, in truth, I don’t know that I’d have answered her messages otherwise. I was thirty at the time and going through a long, drawn out, and contentious divorce. A mother of three, I was fortunate enough also to be involved in a live-in relationship with a man with whom I was deeply in love. I was aware, however, of a developing draw toward women as well now—certain women, actually—and it was a force of such magnetism and curiosity that I felt compelled to explore it. I’m not sure my partner was as excited about my decision as I was, but he seemed willing to accept it. I imagine it helped that, in his mind, there was a chance it might lead to the fulfillment of one of HIS fantasies: a threesome with two women (as you may have guessed). After exchanging a number of emails and, eventually, phone calls, we decided to meet each other. Neither of us had ever been with another woman, but we were both equally Ümraniye Escort excited about the prospect. The main draw for each of us, though, seemed to be the promise of a blooming friendship. For her part, she’d seen a picture of me and appeared to find me attractive, but I’d not been as lucky. As it turned out, I would not be at all disappointed. The name of my little muse (as you may have guessed) was Shannon. Standing at a petite five-feet even, she had a demeanor about her that was so refreshing it actually overwhelmed me at times. Naturally thin, she was somehow blessed with the breasts of a goddess: natural, high-seated 32DDs that she tried to hide in modesty but, with a tiny little waist and cute little curved ass, she was fighting a losing battle. Her hair was light blonde, straight and cut in a cute bob just above the collar. With wide bluish eyes, a cute, thin nose and adorably cherub-like lips, she had a look of innocence and openness that took my breath away. She was the kind of girl who appeared to be exactly what she WAS, and I found myself instantly warming—and attracted–to her from the moment we said hello. We got on well from the start; it was as if we’d known each other forever. She was the perfect yin to my yang: I have a rather dynamic (and, in my mind, occasionally overwhelming) personality: I am passionate (maybe, at times, a bit too passionate) about people, life and anything of the cerebral sort, and more than one person has accused me of “oozing sexuality”. She, on the other hand, was rather quiet and appeared to be utterly innocent and demure. With a cute, soft voice that made you have to listen intently to hear, she seemed like the consummate good-girl. However, once she began to open up and get comfortable, Shannon began to reveal a wicked, flirty, sexual streak that caught me off-guard. I first became aware of it one evening at dinner when, rather suddenly, I felt her toes sensually glide across my bare leg underneath the table. It shocked me, to be honest—it was so out-of-the-blue–and I could feel the heat of a ruddy blush crawl across my face as I looked at her, wide-eyed and surprised, as she licked her upper lip and winked at me. We were in public, in a restaurant, with men glaring at us and trying to get our attention Ümraniye Escort Bayan from both table and bar, and rather than flirting back, we were wholly absorbed in each other…enjoying the subtle dance two do when they each want the other to want them. And it was her—not ME— making the first move. As we sipped our wine and toyed with our salads, it became obvious that dinner was the last thing either of us was interested in devouring. Unsure of myself, I shyly glanced up at Shannon and shot her my sexiest, coy smile. She reached her tiny, lithe hand across the table and took mine with such delicacy you might imagine it was made of glass. She brought it to her mouth, kissed it sensually, then lowered it to rest on her heart. “Can you feel that? My heart is racing!” She exclaimed, her sweet little voice a note or two higher than usual. I felt a jolt pass through me, the product of a unique blend of embarrassment, nervousness, and thrill. I looked around, noticed two young, attractive men turned in their bar seats to watch us, and the thrill intensified. I directed our entwined hands down the “V” of her blouse, ever-so-slightly brushed against the top of her stunning, round mounds of flesh, and pulled our hands back to take her fingers into my mouth and delicately lick them. She shivered, looked over at the men (who were now, in their inebriated states, making a bit of a scene reacting to these two blondes seated fifteen feet away and blatantly lusting after each other), looked back at me, closed her sweet grey-blue eyes and moaned. I called for the check. “Let’s go back to my place and watch a movie,” she suggested. Watching a movie was the last thing I wanted to do, and I assumed she felt the same way. This was all part of the same game that men and women play—a coy way of saying, I really hope to get you naked and alone to do unimaginably naughty things with you, without actually saying it. As I drove us back to her home, my wicked little vixen saw great opportunity in my inability to attend to her and decided to heighten the excitement of our game. As we chatted about some nonsense or other, she ran her fingers gently up my thigh, back down it, and up again–each time cleverly pushing my skirt up a bit higher. The sound of Shannon’s bare fingernails Escort Ümraniye tracing across my stockings seemed overshadowed only by the rapidity of our mutually accelerated breathing and it was clear, from the look on her face and the throaty moans she cared not to disguise, that she took great delight in the reaction she was receiving. By the time we arrived at her house, her fingers were just barely tracing across the now-wet crotch of my panties—seemingly teasing my clit out of its happy little hiding place. I turned off the car and turned to look at her and, before I knew it, she reached over and placed her hand behind my head, pulled me to her, and kissed me as passionately as I’d ever been kissed. The taste of Chardonnay lingered on her delicate tongue as it invited mine to mingle a bit; her lips were soft as silk as they glided across my own, then enthusiastically moved to my neck. Movie, my ass! My delicate little waif was going to take me to her bed and fuck the daylights out of me! Once inside, I could hardly close the front door before her hands were all over me, grabbing at my cardigan, desperately pulling at the buttons to release me from its hold. I turned my face, from watching in disbelief the fluttering of her anxious hands at my top, to witness an even more seductive sight: she was biting her lip, her eyes wide and hungry, and she was breathing as if she’d just finished a runner’s race. With no sense of either pretense or anxiety, she grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom. She sat me down atop a dainty pink quilt, among the frilly lace pillows of her bed, and knelt before me. In a moment’s time, she’d managed to unbutton every one of the twenty or so tiny pearl buttons of my sweater and began to pull it from my shoulders and arms. As I sat, breasts heaving and straining beneath my black, thin lace bra, she placed her tiny hands on my knees and slowly pushed my skirt up to my hips. Awaiting below: black stockings held up with a skimpy black lace garter, a very wet pair of black thongs, and my quite eager pussy. I stood and she quickly reached around to grab the zipper pull of my skirt and, in the blink of an eye, it was off. Now virtually naked, I took Shannon’s hands into mine and gently raised her up onto her feet. As I pulled at the hem of her blouse, she raised her arms up to allow me to remove it. She stood before me, pants still on and, in that moment, she immediately became so self-conscious that she tried desperately to cover the entirety of her exposed stomach with her arms. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked as I tried, with gentle grace, to pry them away from her body.