Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

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Arrived at my friends' party this past Saturday night at twenty-three minutes past start time. I was wearing black jeans, grey turtleneck shirt, a black leather suit jacket, and an Under Armor heat gear form-fitting undershirt. I'd brought a bottle of champaign, strode through the ajar front door, and said hello to an almost empty room. The party hadn't started.

My friends appeared in sophisticated dress. I asked, "Can I help you with anything? They set me to work mincing garlic and putting it together with a half stick of butter. Following that, slicing and toasting bread. People started to arrive. Gradually more people appeared and before I knew it, I was feeling a slight resentment. Just then, a woman came up by my side and offered some help. Then another with curly black hair came up behind me and placed her hands around my stomach. She asked me if I wanted a drink, I said yes, and she returned with champaign. Her hands returned to the front of my stomach. "I love how you feel here. Are you done soon?" I said as soon as I finished garlic-buttering the toast slices.

She vanished for a few. I joined the party and went straight up to a curvy brunette who I'd known from her Facebook page and corresponding briefly with her there. I felt pulled to her. We swung almost straight into great conversation, and she pulled me into a private room. More talk, but thoughtful sex discussion. After a time, we got up together and after getting a drink, she took me into a room with a low and long table. Two couples had already established the room as a intimate conversation spot. My brunette, built solid and tall with a double D bust and a blue bodysuit, slid herself down against the table. "I want attention. You may begin." My hand played slowly over her sides, her hips; I let them move as she moved-- and writhed to bring an untouched part of her to bare.

Another gentleman friend of hers joined us. We stopped and chatted a bit before she invited our two pairs of hands on her. She sat on the table now, back against me standing at its edge. The new gentleman between her legs in command of her legs and ass, me of everything above them. I remember saying, with desirous good manners, "May I move to your breasts?" She smiled with her eyes closed, "Yes. You may. Thank you for asking." They felt... if I had a better word to describe them I would use it: amazing. Real double D breasts with just the right mix of yielding and firm. I lifted and held them, letting her bra take a break, and her shoulders from the bra straps. I sank into my lust and let my hands flow. Squeezing down into a firm grip just shy of a possible pain threshold, then gentle release and to the outsides for my thumbs to massage her pectoral muscles while each fingertip fanned out and pressed against her chest.

I could smell her hair, now black in the low lit room. Then a touch from behind; I tilted my head back to receive the french kiss from the woman from the kitchen with black curly hair. While that kiss smoldered, my fingers spread out and over the large breasts of my first tryst partner, my amazon. To give her some variation in sensation, I moved my hands down to the sides of her hourglass figure to her hips and up again, over and over. However, while taking teeth via a neck bite from black curls behind me, I felt the amazon lift my hands back up onto her bustline. It was an exciting feeling; the complete opposite of a woman moving your hands away from her breasts. Not unlike getting a surprise birthday present after thinking that all the gifts have been opened. I focused intent into both the kiss and my hands feeling nipples rise and push hard against the thin fabric between me and them. I went into a place of imagining both were of the same woman, the one behind me, then the one before me. My curly raven's delicate hands reached around to my stomach and hard groin as her fit body pressed against my back-- then her hands moved back and like talons sunk her nails into my ass. Our kiss ended and I listened to both women breathe-- just breathe.

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