Passion desire Lust

My grandparents came home just after nine that evening and after telling me about all the fantastic art they had seen and the food they ate they went to bed. I waited an hour and then listened close to their bedroom door. I could only hear my grandfather snoring so I figured it was safe to leave.

I called room service and left an order for the next morning, making sure the young man on the other line understood that I wanted tea with my eggs and toast.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater. It had begun to snow again and I could see the flakes whirling around outside the window. I was restless and walked around my room with the door closed. I thought about calling Brad but thought he might notice something strange in my voice and begin to ask questions. I changed the sweater and added some makeup. Then I changed again and then changed my lipstick. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw a woman in her early twenties. She had strong features with high cheekbones and full lips. Her nose was straight and thin. The hair was dark brown and reached the shoulders. Her eyes were light blue and almond-shaped.

“OK, this is it,” I said to no one when the alarm clock on the bedside table showed a quarter to midnight.

When I walked out into the night the wind grabbed my coat and tugged me along. I was going in the opposite direction and turned into the wind. The snowflakes who had looked fluffy and light through the window hit me like nails in the face. I met no one during my ten-minute walk and when I arrived at the corner Anabelle wasn’t there. I figured she must have been delayed and waited. I was safe from the wind, but not the cold.

I have no idea how long I stood there. It might have been an hour or ten minutes. Suddenly someone was standing in front of me and the person took my hand. I was pulled out and close to the person. Suddenly I was being kissed. Not softly but with passion. I thought I smelt perfume and when the kiss ended, I stood back half a step.

“I’m sorry I am late,” said Anabelle. Her hair was filled with snow and her cheeks were red.

“No, no problem,” I stammered. The kiss had shocked me.

She took my hand and leaned close. “I thought we could go to my place.”

I nodded and she took my hand and we walked away from where I had come from.

Anabelle’s apartment was a studio on the second floor in a five-story building. We walked up old wooden stairs that creaked under our every step. She had told me there was an elevator but was not to be trusted and would stop between floors.

When she opened the door and let me in the first thing I noticed was the smell of flowers. First I thought it was some kind of spray, but when she turned on the light I realized it came from the real thing. On almost every flat surface stood a pot with a flower in it. Red, yellow, pink, and orange were the main colors.

“It’s my hobby, and my children,” she said and dumped her coat on an empty chair by the door.

“Wow, they are beautiful.”

She took my coat and dropped it on the same chair. She had changed into a long skirt and a thick turtleneck sweater after work.

“What would you like, tea, coffee, or wine?”

“Wine,” I said and sat down on an old leather sofa.

She disappeared into the kitchen and I heard how she opened a fridge and then took out two glasses.

“Sorry, I only have white, and it’s chilled.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I am sure the alcohol will warm me up.”

After she had served us she sat down opposite me in a lazy chair made out of cloth. It looked even older than the sofa and I thought she must have bought the furniture at a flea market or something. While sipping my wine I looked around the room, and I got the feeling that she didn’t have much money. The wallpaper was old and the ceiling had cracked. The few carpets on the floor were threadbare and one had a long rip in it. I noticed a bookshelf with magazines and a few photos. They were of Anabelle and a much older man. A lover?

“That’s my father,” she said.

“Oh, I see.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you thought. Most people that see us together don’t believe he is my dad. I guess I took after my mother.”

I got up and picked up one of the photos. It showed Anabelle and her father dressed in ski clothes and behind them were mountains covered in snow.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“That was taken two years ago, in Austria.”

The man in the picture was shorter than Anabelle, with a blond mustache. I couldn’t see his eyes or hair since he was wearing sunglasses and a hat. I put the photo down and went back to the sofa.

“Do you see him often?”

She put down her glass and shook her head. “Not enough. He is always working, but enough about me. What about you Faith, tell me about yourself.”

She poured some more wine and sat up in her chair. She pulled up her skirt until it showed off some of her thighs and then crossed her legs in front of her.

I told her about my upbringing and my life in a small Minnesota town. When I mentioned Brad she chuckled and said. ” I hope Brad won’t be upset that I kissed you.”

“Oh yeah, about that. Why did you do it?”

She shrugged her shoulders and gave me a wicked smile. “Because I wanted to. Ever since I first saw you earlier today I have wanted to kiss you. Your lips looked so soft, and they were.”

I must have blushed because she giggled and leaned over the table, putting a warm hand on my cheek. “Don’t worry, it’s OK. I won’t take advantage of you.”

My mind was racing. I wanted her, and I wanted her to take advantage of me, to touch me, kiss me, and hold me. I wanted to feel her lips on mine, the taste of her tongue against mine, and then, the sweet taste of her pussy.

“I want you to,” I whispered.

She let go of my cheek and leaned back. “Are you sure?”

“Mm, I have always wanted to be with another woman.”

“What about Brad?”

It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. “I love him, and he has a fantastic cock, but I want to try something different.”

She watched me while finishing her wine and after putting it down on the table between us. She stood and walked around it and sat down next to me. Then she leaned in and gently kissed my lips. Her’s were so soft they felt like velvet. I could taste the wine when she opened them and her tongue played along my lips and when hers and mine met, she put her arms around me and held me tight.

The position was a bit uncomfortable, so I laid back and she ended up on top of me.

Without a word she pulled her sweater over her head and unclasped a black bra. Her boobs were firm and large. I had been right earlier. She took my hands and placed them on her tits while looking me straight in the eyes. I felt how her nipples harden against the flat of my hands and when I carefully began to massage her, a sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes.

She leaned forward and down and suddenly I could reach her nipples with my mouth. I sucked and licked them and her breathing became harder. Her hips began to gyrate against mine and suddenly she pulled away.

“Take off your clothes,” he said. Her voice was deep and husky.

It must have been a new record for me. I was naked and standing on the floor in no time. She pulled out a sofa bed and laid me down on it. Then he took off her clothes and threw them on the chair where she had sat before.

Her body was amazing. Long slender legs and a narrow waist, with a tuft of pubic hair above her clit. I realized that I hadn’t done anything about my cunt, and I felt a bit bad about it. But how could I have known that I would be in bed with a hot French girl after being in France for just a few hours.

She stepped closer to the sofa and signaled for me to sit up. My head was at level with her cunt and when she put her hands on my shoulder and pulled me closer, I knew what was about to happen. I had wanted it and fantasized about it for the last year, and now when I was going to do it, I felt nervous.

My nose touched her hair and I closed my eyes. Then I stuck out my tongue and felt her skin against it. When I found her slit it was incredibly warm and moist. Her button was hard and when I let my tongue flicker over it, she moaned loudly and pressed my face harder against her pussy. That was it, I lost it at that moment. I began to suck and lick her like there was no tomorrow. She became wetter for every minute and I could feel how her legs began to tremble a little. Then she pushed me away and down on the bed. With a well-practiced move, she was between my legs and had them over her shoulders. And when her tongue touched me a loud groan escaped my lips.

Brad had always been a good pussy eater, he put some effort into it, but Anabelle was out of this world. In just a few minutes she had me moaning and groaning as I had never done before. When she slid in a couple of fingers and began to fuck me, I grabbed the sheets and screamed with pleasure. My pussy was burning hot and it wanted more of what she was giving me.

After my third orgasm Anabelle got up and we switched into a sixty-nine position with her on top.

“C’mon Faith, lick my pussy and ass.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I gave her all I had, and at one point I used her juices and slid a finger into her ass.

“Ay, that feels so good,” she moaned and began to ride my finger.

When she finally came, she screamed out in French, and I had no idea what she was saying. The only thing I knew was that I had never had an orgasm like the ones I had had with Anabelle that night.