Free Erotica - Adjoining Rooms

executive summary
Two friends go to New Orleans for their annual vacation. What starts as an innocent trip ends in mutual erotic exploration.

hot facts

I started again on her cunt, her hips straining up to meet my mouth and fingers. This time I sucked, hard, my fingers plunging in and out, pressing against her clit with my tongue and against the walls and opening of her cunt with my fingers. I was lost in her pleasure; both of us were bucking our hips up and down. I knew, from touching myself, that the lack of touch on her cunt was exquisitely pleasurable when alternated with a strong touch.

Adjoining Rooms
My husband was supposed to join us, but he was stuck at work finishing up a project. So Ellen and I were on our own in wicked New Orleans. We didn’t really mind. Our first night out we did Bourbon Street, but we skipped the strippers and the cross-dressers. I knew John would want to accompany us for those particular pleasures.

So it wasn’t too late and we weren’t too drunk when we caught a cab to take us back to our hotel. We cruised slowly down Canal Street, the driver talking in broken English, a mile-a-minute. I let his words wash over me, but Ellen was listening.

The hotel was a bit of a miscalculation. Ever on the lookout for a bargain, I’d booked it impulsively based on a few pictures and little else. It was on Canal Street; the Marriot is on Canal Street, the Crowne Plaza is on Canal, the Doubletree Hotel is on Canal. Seemed like a pretty reputable location. Until you get there. Turns out the Chateau Venir is on the wrong side of Interstate 10; in fact, one side butts up right against the highway.

Anyway, it didn’t cost much and we had two adjoining rooms for a long weekend. Sitting in the lobby waiting for Ellen, I got a first-hand impression of the Chateau’s clentele. There were lots of hot pants, lots of high heels and extravagant hair. If the women were peacocks, the men were sparrows. Most of them looked like business men who knew for a fact they shouldn’t be seen at this hotel. You could practically see them flinch if they accidentally made eye contact.

Traffic was brisk and during my forty-five minute wait, I saw several of the peacocks leave and re-enter with a new partner. Ellen came down and apologized for keeping me waiting.

“Au contraire!” I said with a smile. “It has been an interesting interlude. If we should run short of cash, I have a plan.”

My friend has an amazing sense of humor and a warmth that instantly puts people at their ease. Our taxi driver certainly felt easy. Or rather, I guess he thought we were easy. An understandable misconception perhaps, given our hotel. We were stopped outside the doors when his words finally penetrated.

“You, you and your friend, you make a pretty pair,” he said, smiling broadly.

“One blonde, one black-haired.”

I smiled and nodded thanks.

“You very, very good friend?” His eyebrows arched, an almost comical effect.

“Oh, God, we’ve known each other forever,” Ellen exclaimed, throwing her arm across my shoulder. “We’ve been through it all.”

The taxi driver’s grin got bigger.

“You like each other naked?”

We began to catch his drift and exchanged an amused smile. He took this for a “yes” and continued in a rush.

“You naked, you love each other, I watch from closet, yes?”

“I don’t think my husband would like that idea,” I said primly, sliding across the seat to get out. My husband and I had an ordinary, monogamous relationship, and I had never even daydreamed about anything different. But a tiny twist of speculation began to grow inside my mind.

I didn’t see it, but I think Ellen winked as she paid the cabbie and gave him a generous tip.

Unused to high heels, I slipped a little on the highly polished floor of the lobby and Ellen’s fingers brushed against my breast as she reached to catch my upper arm. When we entered the elevator there was a brief but odd fluttering feeling in my belly, or maybe lower down. I was acutely conscious of her body heat as we ascended to our rooms; when I glanced at Ellen’s breasts I could see the nipples hard and distinct against the thin silk fabric of her dress.

It felt a little awkward when we paused at our doors to say goodnight. Then I had to laugh at myself. This was Ellen, my Ellen, who’s known me forever. I’ve poured every secret in my life in her ears, she’s heard intimate details about my sex life I’d never even shared with my husband.

I grabbed her arm and tugged her into my room. “Let’s see what’s in the minibar!”

We found a tiny bottle of scotch (her drink of choice) and a bottle of beer and toasted our three-day vacation in the Big Easy. I took a big swallow of my beer and laughed.

“You know, that taxi driver gave me a turn. Can you imagine?”

She laughed along with me; then her face grew softer and she reached out hesitantly. I think if I had said anything at all she would have stopped, but I was silent. Her fingertip circled my nipple through the fabric of my dress and suddenly I was aroused in a way I’d never been before.

I wasn’t wearing a bra; my tits are small and I like the unconfined feeling as well as the appraising looks I sometimes got from men and women. Ellen’s breasts are heavy and lush; we’d often laughed about how different we are physically. I am tall and slim, blonde, while Ellen is nearly a foot shorter and beautifully sculpted, with an irresistible ripeness. My nipples hardened at the thought of touching her heavy, lovely breasts; I trembled to think of pulling one into my mouth, curling my tongue around the nipple of another woman.

I discovered I’d been holding my breath and I let it out, a little shaky. She withdrew her hand and self-consciously sipped her scotch. She started to speak but I gently held my finger to her lips. We were sitting cross-legged on the bed and I surprised myself by leaning forward to kiss her. When our lips met, I could feel Ellen start to pull away. But after this momentary hesitation, she relaxed into the caress, opening her lips to admit my tentative tongue.

As we kissed, time seemed to unspool like a dream. In an odd way, it was like kissing myself. We were both unhurried, our tongues twining and untwining, exploring the sensations. She tasted warmly of scotch; my breath had the sharp tang of a beer. I stopped momentarily, took her glass and took a tiny sip; I swirled it around in my mouth before swallowing and losing myself in that amazing kiss again.

Millions of minutes later--or maybe just two or three--I moved my hands to slip off her dress, unsnap her bra and cup her breasts as they fell free. I have been cupping my own breasts in my hands for years; I am accustomed to the feeling and the sight. But the feeling of cupping Ellen’s breasts shot through me like lightning. They were so different from my own. Heavy, soft, beautiful.

At first I merely looked. Then I caressed every velvety inch, almost with a sense of worship. I saw her nipples contract with desire and felt my own do the same.

Then I pushed her gently back on the bed and pulled one nipple into my mouth. That moment was so charged, so erotic, I could feel my cunt contract with desire. If I had only barely brushed against my clit at that moment I believe I would have exploded into orgasm. Ellen gasped, and I knew she felt the same. I buried my face and open mouth in her breasts, sucking greedily at one nipple and finding the other nipple with my free hand.

My dress slipped easily off my shoulders after Ellen gently guided my face back up to hers for another kiss. Naked except for a thong, my body was quivering with suppressed desire. We sat up, cross-legged on the bed again.

She studied my naked body: teasing, she used just the tip of her fingernail to gently flick one of my nipples. It was my turn to gasp at the sensation of a simple touch. I could feel my cunt getting wet, soaking the flimsy fabric of my thong.

Now it was Ellen’s turn to push me down onto my back. She began by sucking each nipple, lightly biting them from time to time. The surprise of that little flash of pain, unexpected in the middle of a caress, made me moan with a pleasure stronger than any I’ve ever felt. I was starting to feel the urgency now, craving the touch that would cause my body to convulse in orgasm.

My hand was reaching down to my cunt when it brushed against the luscious flesh of her breasts, and I forgot my need as I began to caress her breasts again. Now we lay side-by-side, breast to breast. I helped Ellen pull her dress off and discard it on the floor. I ran a finger down between her breasts, down to her navel, and slowly, slowly to her bush.

Just as our body types were different, so was our coloring. Her bush was black, curly, exuberant. I tangled my fingers in the hair as she reached down to pull my thong off. I heard it tear, but my heart was in my throat as she exposed my strawberry-blond thatch. My cunt was running with juices now, my clit so swollen with hunger that it ached.

My playful fingers reached the lips of her pussy; my touch was light as a breeze; Ellen gasped and responded by slipping her finger past my labia and deep into my cunt. I knew I would come at her very next touch, and I wanted to touch her forever, so I pushed her over onto her side again, straddling her, my pussy juices dripping onto her belly.

Kissing, then tonguing the line from her breasts to her bush was another electrifying sensation. Where a man’s body would be hard, muscular, Ellen’s body was soft and yielding. It was an eerie sensation, almost like I was licking down my own body, over my own soft belly. And at the nest of hair between her legs, nothing hard, just softness and heat and wetness. I was totally focused on this body so like my own., a hand on her breasts and another trailing down her body.

There may have been a click just then; a noise registered, only vaguely. I saw Ellen’s gaze slip away from mine for an instant. Then she softly pushed my head just an inch or so lower, and I could see the glimmer of her pussy, overflowing with her juices.

This was another shock to me, and I savored it. I have seen my own cunt, but only in a mirror, and only from a distance. Here was my own familiar, beloved flesh: lips, swollen clit, secret folds and a shadowed opening. I could do nothing more than look, and desire. My mind was so confused with the erotic charge of making love to another woman I almost felt like I was seeing my own cunt. Touching it made my own pussy swell and contract.

Ellen seemed just as entranced. Between the two of us we managed to slip her hips under a pillow, elevating that wet, hot pussy on a kind of throne, open and ready for my tongue and questing fingers. I bent over her and roughly thrust my tongue as deeply as I could. It felt foreign and familiar all at the same time, and I cried out in an odd kind of triumph, or perhaps it was joy.

That sense of urgency returned; only this time, it was a strong need to see Ellen’s cunt shudder and pulse under my tongue, see her back arch and hear her cry as I made her come. My tongue circled her clit, faster now, and I plunged two fingers into the wet, hot softness of her cunt. She was moaning so loud with pleasure, it sounded almost like a cry of pain. I licked her cunt lips, pulled away my fingers and my mouth, and she shuddered.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

I started again on her cunt, her hips straining up to meet my mouth and fingers. This time I sucked, hard, my fingers plunging in and out, pressing against her clit with my tongue and against the walls and opening of her cunt with my fingers. I was lost in her pleasure; both of us were bucking our hips up and down. I knew, from touching myself, that the lack of touch on her cunt was exquisitely pleasurable when alternated with a strong touch.

Too soon, Ellen came. I left my fingers in her cunt as it contracted and pulsed; I licked my lips to taste her tangy, salty cunt juices. When I sat back to look at her whole lush body, my heel came in contact with my wet pussy lips and I closed my eyes and exhaled softly in pleasure.

Ellen sat up and leaned forward for another deep, questing kiss. Like a cat, she licked my face clean of her juices, then continued to move her mouth down to one breast and then another, taking them into her mouth and sucking so hard it almost hurt, with the same kind of mild, stimulating pain that makes me crazy for a touch or a finger or a cock in my pussy.

Her kisses trailed down towards my belly button and I leaned back, shaky with the sensation. It was again different than the touch of a man, knowing, somehow, or more confident. Her fingers tangled in my pubic hair briefly, then she pulled my body to the edge of the bed, my legs spread wide and my cunt open and ready. Kneeling, she gazed at me for a moment, no doubt experiencing the same weird feeling of familiarity. I ran my fingers through her thick, dark hair as she moved to cover my whole cunt with her mouth.

Her tongue circled my clit like it had circled my nipple, bringing an explosion of sensation that made me moan out loud. As if from a great distance, I heard another click, like a door opening. I turned my head towards the noise just as Ellen thrust two fingers into my cunt, her tongue still working my clit. I couldn’t see anything; my eyes closed as I shuddered, on the brink of a world-shattering orgasm.

As if she sensed that, Ellen pulled her mouth back and looked at my pussy. With its honey-gold curls, the shadow of my pussy lips are barely visible. She stroked the inside of my thigh, scraping it lightly with her finger nails. She would start halfway down my thigh and slowly draw her fingers up towards my cunt, sometimes lightly touching it, sometimes not. I gasped when she touched the swollen, throbbing lips, and I could feel the juices pouring out. Now I was wet, even dripping, not just my pussy but the round curve of my ass, the tops of my thighs.

She moved forward, slowly, and now ran her tongue up my thigh to lightly flick against my clit. She smiled as I moaned. Leaning even closer, she covered my cunt with her mouth and her tongue moved like a fire inside me. I was shuddering, calling her name, desperate now for the release of an orgasm. I felt a finger unexpectedly against my rosy-brown asshole; when it slipped inside my ass, the world stopped for an instant as I came. I bucked, shuddering, almost in tears from the force of the orgasm. Ellen watched, quiet, until I could open my eyes again. We slowly turned to be side-by-side on the bed again, and I circled her nipple with my finger, still excited by the novelty of it.

Then a movement caught my eye. I raised my head to see a naked man leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He had an enormous erection; in spite of my earth-shattering orgasm a few moments before, I suddenly felt empty, hungry for that hard, relentless cock in my mouth, my pussy.

I tore my eyes off his dick to look up and drew in my breath sharply. A smile slowly grew on his face. “I finished my project at work. This looks like a real New Orleans party. May I join you?”

Without a word, Ellen and I held out our arms as he walked to the bed; my mouth reached his with a hungry, even greedy kiss. Below me, I saw Ellen’s dark head descend to his cock, enfolding it with her lips still fragrant from my cunt. By dawn, we had exhausted every little game we could think of, and lay tangled in a web of sheets and legs and arms. Three more days of New Orleans. More importantly, two more nights.


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