Two Navy wives

I am a bisexual woman, in my early thirties, with a predilection for straight women. To me, the most exciting sex is with an attractive woman who thinks lesbian love is wrong, but whose sexual desires drive her to it.

Three months ago a naval officer and his wife moved next door. He promptly left on what I came to find out was a five-month assignment at sea. His wife also works, but was obviously lonely. I brought her into my circle of friends to help her feel at home in her new neighborhood.

Her name is Claire, and she’s about five foot seven, with long, shapely legs and a round, sexy ass. Dark, lustrous brown hair reaches down to her shoulders, which are very broad. I think her breasts are perfect; they are only an A-cup, but are shaped like classic champagne glasses and have large, pronounced nipples.

Being fitness oriented, I soon had her going to aerobics class with me and working out. This came to be my tool for introducing Claire to the pleasures of female love.

Claire was quite vain about her shape and loved to work out on the weight machine in my basement, then admire herself in the mirror. One night, after having quite a few drinks, we were sitting around and Claire told me how glad she was that I had started her at weight lifting. She was pleased that her ass had become much more firm and her cleavage more pronounced.

I asked her to show me, and high as a kite, she stood up and stripped. Wearing just her bra and high-cut panties, she followed me into my bedroom to view herself in the full-length mirror. Standing before the mirror, lost in her own world of vanity and booze, she could not have looked more appealing. Her long legs seemed even longer in the designer panties that were cut up to her waist, revealing those round, firm cheeks, which I wanted so badly to feel.

The dark thickness of her pubic hair curled out from both sides of the narrow crotch of her panties. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours,” she joked, never taking her eyes off herself in the mirror. Stripping quickly, I stood beside her in the mirror.

We looked like twins, except for my blond hair and the size of my breasts. “I really wish my boobs were like yours,” she said as she stared at my broad, full C-cup tits.

“What is it you like about them?” I asked, unsnapping the front clasp, allowing the wide pink nipples to feel the cool rush of air.

Her fuzzy mind searched for a response as I slowly began to knead my lightly veined white skin, a shallow pretense at rubbing out the bra marks. Amazed at the turn of events and at her not being offended, I took her long beautiful hands and placed them on my jutting tits.

“Is it the fact that they are so much bigger than yours?” I asked, cupping her warm hands under my breasts. Slowly, so as not to break the trance, I whispered, “Is it the heat you feel through your fingers, or the way my nipples respond to your touch?”

I placed her supple fingers on my sensitive nipples and began a pinching motion with her fingers, which she involuntarily continued. At this point, I pushed her gently back until she was seated, and as I spoke, I pulled her full, pouting lips to my left breast. “You always wanted me,” I breathed in her ear.

Reaching down I began to roll her hard nipples between my strong fingers.

The effect was electric. She moaned loudly and her upper body jerked forward at the first pinch. “You have sensitive nipples, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

Then pinching her own nipples between her long fingers, without interrupting my work on her clit. I slid the index finger of my left hand into the pink wetness of her vagina, causing her to moan loudly. Slowly, I rimmed the opening, pulling at the tight muscles that guarded her entrance. A second finger followed. My strong digits pushed into her warm flesh and penetrated up to the third knuckle.

I felt her muscles relax slightly. The tightness of her opening, no doubt from lack of use, surprised me, but excited me, as well. My fingers slid in and out rhythmically, pulling at her inner lips. The added pleasure of my penetration was beginning to bring Claire to orgasm, and I slowed the attention I was giving to her clit in order to prolong her vulnerability. Her building physical excitement provided copious amounts of pussy juice, and I soon had my third finger jammed into her hot box. I was soaking wet myself, and I ground my vulva against her lower leg.

I slid my fourth finger along side the others, and wedged it into the sticky folds of her cunt. The group of fingers wedged just above the second knuckle. No longer able to restrain myself, I spread and pushed my fingers alternately, until the stretched muscles of her cunt surrounded the breadth of my third knuckle.

“Oh… please… more!” moaned Claire.

Slowly, I clenched and unclenched my hand, rotating it back and forth slightly. I felt the last resistance of her heated loins begin to yield. Tucking my thumb into my palm, I continued to stretch her wide. I began to suck her now enlarged clit into my mouth. The pungent aroma of her secretions was more than I could bear. Losing control, I humped her leg, bathing it in my juices and sending me reeling toward orgasm. Pushing with all my force, I inched forward and watched as her pink flesh sucked my hand. Her wetness was overpowering. My fingers felt as if they were in a container of oil.

I whispered, “I am inside you, and I am fucking you.”

“Harder,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.”

I raised my head to watch her lovely face express total abandonment to my control, and I started a light, rapid stroking of her clit, which I knew would lead to orgasm.

After a long, low scream of pleasure, she began to climax. Her vagina opened completely, and then a series of pulsing contractions began, which faded with her moans. The oral and facial expressions she made as she orgasmed excited me to the point where I came with her.

My fantasy was realized at last. Our relationship has been special since that day, and I must admit that I endorse the Navy’s policy of long tours of duty at sea.