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FirstBlush
Over 90 days ago
Moderator
Straight Female, 28
United States

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays - Part II

Fiona's poolside visitor wants a word with her, but she wants more. Dialogue only, no sex.

My eyes opened with a start, and I was no longer alone. I could write that it was the fervently imagined, mind-blowing licks of Mr. Weston's inquisitive tongue that came to life and expertly supplemented the gentle rub of my fingers as I floated suitless and spread open to the world in his swimming pool. But that's not what happened. The pool's owner was fully clothed, fully dry and had just moved into my field of vision....

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays - Part III

With her sexy neighbor's help, Fiona overcomes second thoughts about their first time

We lay side by side on our backs at the pool’s edge, spent and out of breath, our nakedness streaming with rivulets of water and sweat. Faint patterns of reflected light shifted rhythmically over our skin with the rise and fall of respiration as heart rates slowly stabilized. I stared raptly up at the leaf mosaic framing the hazy night sky. Cricket songs increased their cadence as a mockingbird added his brash triplicate...

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays - Part 4

In their second encounter, Mike gives Fiona a bouquet of surprises

“You’re quiet tonight,” Daryl said after nailing his ninth consecutive jump shot. “Just tired, I guess,” I shrugged, retrieving the bounce from beneath the backboard and passing it back to him. “Keep going; you’re on a roll.” He cocked his wiry frame and smoothly released the ball in a vaulting arc. The net whooshed without moving and I gave a whoop of approval, hoping that would shut him up about my being quiet. “Let’s q...

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays - Conclusion

Fiona suspects her affair with Mr. Weston is no longer a secret.

I could live on this feeling forever. In the moon gilded, firefly sparked interval between the idyllic hideaway of Mr. Weston's home and the return to real life, I slid in a barefoot promenade across the newly mowed nap of his front yard. The dewy bouquet of suburban lawn infused the humid air and overwhelmed the vervaine trace of his good night kiss on my cheek, his fourth one. Four weeks. Four euphoric encounters. Each...

Summer Of Addictive Saturdays - Part I

A young woman's desire for her enigmatic neighbor plunges them both into deep waters

Amidst the flower beds one Saturday afternoon, the phone quivered in my pocket. When I saw the sender's name, my legs followed suit. The text simply read, 7:30 . The gardening gloves came off in a rush. Yes, I texted back after drying sweaty, unsteady hands on my cutoffs. I returned to the mundane task of spreading new mulch, sneaking a glance at the neighbor's immaculately manicured lawn. There was a long way to go befor...