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The Lust in the Sun

Anal

It all started with a sunbed lounger. It wasn’t a very romantic start to Harriet’s tale of summer love, but you never really noticed these things until the adventure was over and you had time to prod at the plotholes. However, nevertheless, it started with a sunbed lounger and a lonely mother.

To be precise, it was Harriet’s mother and defiantly not the sunbed lounger. Harriet had climbed out of the hotel pool when she witnessed the sight. Her mother, Janice, had sat on the wrong sunbed.

The prim and proper accountant needed to ramble at the actual owner, fretting as she collected her things. Harriet took little notice of her mother and jumped back into the pool. She was enjoying her holiday in Greece and wouldn’t stop for a bit of embarrassment. This could be saved for everyday life in England.

However, the meanless event sparked a friendship between the two families. The same night, the Grant family, which consisted of Harriet and her bespectacled mother, were seated next to the Baker family.

Oddly, the Bakers weren’t her mother’s typical type of friends. During her mother’s free days, there would be talks of visiting an art gallery or fighting for a table at a renowned tea house. The Bakers liked to talk about bingo and finding bargains; they revelled in the cheapness of their clothes. Clearly, the all-inclusive hotel limited your social choices.

It had taken a divorce, a tightening budget and a brilliant salesman disguised as a travel agent to make the Bakers their social equals. Maybe it was the loneliness or desperation, but her mother continued to talk with them, waving at them in the morning and saving them a seat at night. This was a hard thing to do since the Baker family consisted of four.

The married couple, Brian and Kelly, were people. It wasn’t the best description of a couple; every time Harriet focused on them, she could only conjure up the images of beige damaged by years of smoking. If she tried harder to focus on them, she could imagine Brian was the type of man to sell second-hand cars, and Kelly spent too much time at the school gates. Simply, they liked to talk.

The two children were the same. Their youngest daughter giggled at everything, inserting her opinion at every interaction, which was impressive for someone of that age. Harriet wouldn’t have dared do such a thing.

The older daughter was worse, not because you talked more, but simply who she was talking to. The youngest preferred the adults, following their parents around with needy interest. Harriet’s mother loved it and was indulging every question.

The older daughter preferred to speak with Harriet, under the guise of being closer in age. When in reality, Harriet was in her last years of university, and this girl had only stumbled into the idea of education. She wanted to be a hairdresser, and Harriet wouldn’t expect anything less from someone named Sammy Mae.

It was a type of name to scream the obvious, and large in every department. Sammy was the type of person to be waiting tables, unable to grasp most things, always needing a second explanation. Harriet continued to look down at the short chubby girl beside her, knowing if her usual circle of friends were here, they would have left the table by now.

However, the Grant family continued to sit with them. It soon escalated to trips; the two families would gather their things and head to the beach. It wasn’t too bad. Harriet could sunbathe, and for some unspoken reason, it could be done in silence.

They would lay there for hours, cooking themselves in the sun. During the few occasions, when they did speak, Sammy would stare with big eyes, fascinated with new words she hadn’t heard before.

Harriet began to throw her vocabulary around the conversation, only pausing to explain their meaning. Her eyes revelled behind sunglasses. It was not like university, where her ideas were somewhat behind her peers. Here, on the sandy beaches, people had to catch up with her. Harriet hadn’t been corrected in days.

Maybe this was the reason behind everything, the reason why Harriet took such a peculiar interest. Sammy was a walking diary of human expression; each movement of her round face could be read. The admiration was addictive. The silences grew shorter, and the lectures grew longer, all in pursuit of that amazed look.

Harriet even became helpful. She would carry things and hold doors, encouraging Sammy to partake in new foods during dinner. She would hold the spoon in place until the girl relented. The rush of superiority filled her veins. Without a doubt, she was the smartest person in Sammy’s life.

The way she kept watching and waiting was invigorating. It began to escalate, the need to be important, to be the sole focus, to the point where she was dragging Sammy away from the group, to engage in deeper conversations. On a particular night, she’d dragged Sammy to the beach again. It was a short distance from the hotel, but far enough that Harriet could be the sole governor of their conversation.

After Cebeci Escort several stages of enlightenment, Harriet had run out of words to use or situations to explain, so she settled on the basic human connexion — a hug. It was from the side and one arm around the shoulder, pulling Sammy closer. For some odd reason, the young girl went stiff against the physical contact.

It was the first sign that something was different about the pairing. Harriet continued the urge to hug; it was always from the side and always after a forced laugh during a joke. Each time Sammy grew unsure, a type of nervousness that Harriet couldn’t put her fingers on. Their eyes wouldn’t meet during a hug, but Harriet did try.

She felt that under everything, there was something unspoken on Sammy’s behalf. It took another day before she fully comprehended. They were changing for the swimming pool, trapped within the Grants’ hotel room; it was neat and painted white, with two twin beds taking up most of the space. It’s hard to escape the undressing bodies, the unspoken feeling.

Harriet had been standing in a bra when witnessing Sammy’s eyes in the mirror. She had seen that look before, and normally, it was on a boy. It all clicked into place. The rage was unexpected. Harriet had been under the illusion of being important. Instead, she’d simply been conned. Sammy was a lesbian, waiting for the perfect moment, buttering her up.

“You should try my bikini.” A mixture of rage and summer heat fuelled the cruel statement. If Harriet had been a cartoon character, her hands would have been rubbing together, and the corners of her lip would be curling, but she wasn’t and could only offer the bikini with an impassive face. Sammy was a larger girl than Harriet. Still, the bikini was worn and looked painfully tight.

Sammy had stepped out of the bathroom and back into the hotel bedroom, her arms folded awkwardly around her stomach. She seemed to be turning red, it could have been due to sunburn, but the tight fabric indicated otherwise. Harriet pushed Sammy towards the mirror.

“You look mature.” She encouraged the embarrassed individual, and she wasn’t wrong. Sammy did look mature, but it wasn’t maturity. It was more of a lewd mature. Her body was escaping from the tiny fabric of decency.

Her breasts were too large, being squeezed together as they fought for comfort. The triangle shapes were cruelly revealing the outlines of two huge areolas. Harriet found herself staring at the slight hint of a nipple.

The lower parts of the bikini weren’t much better. It was tighter and more unforgiving. It had cut into the hips and pushed the bottom out, fully exposing both cheeks. The front barely hid the pubic hair; it didn’t match the light hair on Sammy’s head. If Harriet pulled, the bikini bottoms would snap, and everything would have been revealed.

The joke was maybe cruel, but Harriet felt shortchanged. Her time was wasted by a seducer. However, as she stood staring, Harriet had to admit it wasn’t a terrible sight. On the contrary, it was soft and welcoming.

She had kissed another girl when clubbing, and it had been pretty straightforward. Maybe they could scratch each other inches. It had been a long time since Harriet’s last sexual encounter, and with this girl, she would definitely get the oral she always desired.

There was another hug, making sure to press her bra into Sammy’s bare flesh. Harriet’s chin rested on her shoulder.

“You look really nice.”

“I look fat.” Sammy had managed to utter; her round face was radiating with shyness.” And it hurts.” Her fingers pointed at the obvious redness around the hips.

Harriet had feigned surprise and then some concern. She lifted her own fingers to the area and latched on to the fabric.

“Oh my, you’re right. Here, let’s take it off.” Harriet pulled the bikini bottom downward, but before it could be fully revealed, Sammy’s hands were placed over her groin. Harriet had tried to laugh in a jovial fashion.

“It’s fine. We’re both girls.”

“No, we’re not.”

“I’m not a girl?” Harriet queried, trying to swallow the first buzz of a laugh. Sammy shook her head, struggling to find the right words, before settling on a quiet statement.

“It’s not normal.”

“What’s not normal?”

“This,” Sammy would have pointed at the unfolding scene if she wasn’t desperately trying to cover her private parts. “It’s weird.”

Harriet began to perform a routine. She made sure silence filled the room, placing both girls in an uncertain territory as if something big was about to occur.

“Do you like me?” It was laughable. Harriet had never said this to anybody. She simply dated them, and that was it.

However, it seemed to speak to some part of Sammy’s mind. She softened, and her eyes looked down.

“I think I’m weird….” There was a pause. Sammy was trying to push something out into the open. It took some effort. “…about girls.”

Harriet Kolej Escort took this as a sign. Due to being a few inches taller, she had to bend down to place a dry kiss on Sammy’s shoulder.

“I want to do things with you too.” With this statement, she had expected a crazy session of passionate sex to follow, to have an orgasm without masturbation. It did not occur like that.

“I don’t know. We barely know each other.” The rejection stung. Harriet stepped back as if hurt by an invisible foe. Sammy stood awkwardly, still trying to use her hands for modesty.

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “But I’ve not done this before. It’s too quick.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t either. We can learn together.” Harriet jumped onto a defence, hoping to find a way into a matter she hadn’t really thought of until now.

“You’re a virgin too?”

“Yes.” It was a lie. Harriet had plenty of experience, just not with a woman.

Sammy was about to utter something, but Harriet couldn’t risk it being another rejection. They kissed. She gripped the girl and found it was more fun to kiss in the dominant position. It was hard to describe a single kiss. Normally, they all mixed into one. This time wasn’t much different.

A terrible, cruel idea had crossed Harriet. It was the rush of superiority again. Sammy would never forget about her after this. She still had odd thoughts of her first sexual partner, and they’ve been nothing special. It was just some boy at a house party.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Harriet ordered, not wanting to be discovered in such a state. She gripped the other girl’s arm. Sammy seemed to be in shock, and followed without complaint, mumbling about only wanting to kiss. The bathroom was cramped, pushing the girls closer together. Harriet locked the door behind them.

They kissed again. This time, Sammy was more involved. They even added their tongues, and annoyingly, it seemed that Sammy had kissed someone before. Harriet grew impatient. She wanted to reach unconquered lands and decided nudity was the next obvious step. This would have been an interesting level of teasing, but Sammy was only wearing a bikini top, and that would make things rather rapid.

Harriet had a few extra layers on her person. She reached for the elasticated waistband of her neon orange shorts; it was a type of garment which could only be worn on holiday. Anywhere else, and it should be a crime. However, despite its ugliness, the orange fabric slipped down with ease.

Sammy didn’t even notice. The kissing seemed to be taking up most of her brain power, and her eyes were closed like some dewy maiden at the end of a tale. Harriet soon came to realise as she placed her hands on Sammy’s shoulders, it wasn’t the glow of lust, but a sudden sweatiness.

Harriet travelled around the skin to confirm the sensation, and couldn’t believe a girl would be this easy. The kiss was broken.

“Touch me,”

“What?” It was a choke. Sammy hadn’t moved her hands; they were glued to her groin.

“Touch my nipples,” It was a demand this time, and Harriet could feel it in her voice. She almost wanted to point at her bra, but that would have been rude. So, she did the next best thing and removed the bra. It was dropped to the floor without much ceremony. Gravity couldn’t wilt the a-cups on her chest. The brownish nipples just sat there, waiting for the obvious.

“Go on. I thought you wanted this.”

“I don’t know how to. I’m going to be rubbish.'” The whiny statement wasn’t directed at the face. Sammy’s eyes were locked on the chest; no matter how much she protested, the girl was definitely interested in something.

“Then use your mouth?” Harriet always prefer tongues over fingers and was happy to take shortcuts on the obstacle course of sexual adventures.

“But that’s…”

“Don’t be coy. You’ve used your tongue before.”

“I never.”

“Please, you don’t kiss like that without some practice.”

“I didn’t kiss there!”

“Sammy, please, I don’t care if you’re bad. I just want you, please.”

It was pathetic. No one needed that many pleases, yet it did the job. Sammy relented. A head hovered closer to the intended target, inches away and causing each hot breath to cascade over one chosen nipple. She did treat it like kissing. It was gentle, and the tongue prodded the nipple as if it was another tongue.

This is what Harriet had been wanting, utter devotion. It went straight to her groin. Her hands worked circles into Sammy’s back, to encourage the continuation. If only Sammy would move her hands, the other breast could have the attention it deserved. After a few moments of light licking, Harriet decided that total nudity was required.

“I’m ready.” It was spoken in a voice which was unnatural to her; it was delicate and brimming with innocence.

Harriet had to unbolt Sammy from her nipple. The girl had finally gotten into the swing of things and almost seemed disappointed.

“I want to do it.” Harriet Yenimahalle Escort pulled her underwear down and sat on the toilet seat, her legs parted, and if Sammy got on her knees, everything could easily be seen.

“Do you really want to lose your virginity on a toilet seat?” When exposing yourself to a new person, this was not the expected question. Harriet was truly taken aback, and it took the brain cells some time to think up a response.

“This might be our only chance.” It was lame, and she knew it. However, words didn’t need to be the only form of attack.

Harriet opened her legs even further, and surely most of it was visible now. Whatever doubt had been there, melted with the last trickles of virtue. Sammy got on her knees, and her hands finally moved. A single finger was chosen, but Harriet stopped it, and bogus inexperience hurried into eyes, performing a marvellous act.

“Use your tongue again. It will loosen me up for your finger. I don’t want it to hurt.” The finger retreated. Sammy had the good sense to direct her attention toward the clit; the girl know something, at least. Once again, she treated it like kissing. Harriet was delighted and amazed. It had actually worked.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually eaten her out; it must be over a year now. She loved the wet slide of a tongue, and even soft touch was enough to encourage a moan.

“Yes, there, do it there,” Sammy’s tongue was concentrating, not giving a moment of freedom to Harriet’s clit.

Vulgarity took over, and soon her nipples were pulled by her own wild hands. If Sammy looked up, she would see a reddened face observing, hungry for more.

“So close…” The words fell out as the stomach tightened, “Sammy…ahh.. yes.”

The verbal bout of words and sounds inspired Sammy to dig deeper under the clitoral hood. It was enough. Harriet rode the waves of her orgasm, her sharp breaths hinting at each wave of pleasure.

“Did you cum?” Sammy asked, beaming with pride. It did seem obvious to working eyes, but everyone deserved a pat on the head once in a while.

“It’s amazing.” Harriet managed. If she had to rate it, it probably wasn’t the best, but she wouldn’t say no to another round.

“Do you want to try fingers?” There was excitement in the voice, and a finger was chosen before an answer could be found. Sammy was really getting into the swing of things now.

“I’ll be gentle,” she added, but it seemed more like an afterthought. Harriet could say no at this point, not to a face that looks so happy to be there. She nodded, but make sure it was a sheepish type of nod.

She clinched, to create some makeshift resistance against the finger.

“Don’t be nervous. I don’t think it will hurt. Your pussy looks really wet, like really wet.”

It should have been embarrassing, or shameful, at least. Yet it only seemed to make Harriet lustier, and it took all her willpower not to encourage Sammy to use four fingers.

A finger went inside, stopping briefly for reassurance. It moved slowly, back and forth. It wasn’t as good as the tongue. Harriet was desperate to have that again. She waited until a second finger was used, and decided to feign some pain.

“Can you use your tongue as well?”

Sammy was understanding, and happy to oblige. However, she seemed to struggle somewhat with multitasking. Nothing could beat a good licking, and Harriet encouraged via moans to continue with the lapping tongue. The hard work paid off, and Harriet came again. This time, her body was sweaty. She sat on the toilet in a daze, enjoying the warmth drifting over her.

She didn’t return to common sense until she heard the little voice. Sammy seemed to be speaking.

“I want to try.” She sounded embarrassed, and if she could see herself, she would be mortified. Her lips were wet, and it had to be Harriet’s pussy juices.

“Are you sure?” It was a question to buy time. There was a problem, Harriet was exhausted, and the idea didn’t seem plausible when her legs were made of Jelly. Damn, Sammy had nodded.

“Should I lay down? I don’t want to do it on the toilet.”

Sammy seemed to have a problem as well. After laying her back on the floor, she had gone back to covering pussy. Even if Harriet wasn’t exhausted, it seemed like a rubbish way to do it.

“Do you actually want to do this?” It wasn’t asked out of concern. It’s just a way of getting out doing anything.

“I don’t want you to look,” Sammy mumbled, “It’s embarrassing.”

“Well, why don’t you put a towel over your head, and you won’t see anything,” It wasn’t a serious suggestion. It was meant to be a stupid response. Sammy was meant to say no, and try another day when she felt more confident. Instead, she agreed, because, of course, she would agree. A white towel was put over her head, only exposing her mouth. Harriet tried not to laugh.

Thankfully, she wasn’t dumb. She was a work-smarter type of person, and there was something by the sink which could make everything dramatically easier. She picked up the electric toothbrush, she probably should have washed it first, but that would ruin the surprise.

She also made sure to collect roll-on deodorant; the top part looked like the tip of a medium-sized dildo. It was perfect. She got on her jelly knees, holding her weapons with razor-sharp delight.

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