My heart pounded as I waited for Sara to come over to our home—the home I shared with my boyfriend.

My phone pinged with a message from him: "Have fun tonight. It's fine with me if Sara sleeps over."

"Thank you, love. Maybe some other time. I will call you once she leaves," I replied.

"OK. Love you," was his curt response.

I smiled. How many men would be so supportive of their fiancée exploring her bisexuality? He helped me create a dating profile and prepare for my first date with Sara, even driving me there, knowing I'd back out otherwise. Fully accepting and supportive, my boyfriend even encouraged me to invite her to our bed while he's out of town on business.

The ring of the doorbell sent a thrill through me, and I knew it could only be Sara. My heart raced as I buzzed her up via the intercom, my fingers trembling slightly. I could feel the heat building between my legs, dampening the thin fabric of my thong.

My heart pounded in my chest as I listened for the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. My excitement grew with every passing second, and I found it difficult to contain myself. I took a moment to smooth my long blond hair, wanting to look my best for her. I wore snug-fitting jeans and a tight shirt that accentuated my perky breasts, knowing full well how much she loved my curves.

As Sara finally appeared at the top of the stairs, her curly blonde hair framed a beaming smile as she saw me standing in the doorway. She wore jeans too, paired with a flowy beige blouse.

We hugged tightly, our breasts pressing against each other, and I felt that familiar rush of excitement from being so close to her again. Sara's perfume engulfed me, and I could swear I smelled her arousal mingling with the sweet scent, evoking memories of our last heated encounter at a local hotel.

As she pulled away, her eyes locked on mine, and I could see the shimmer of mischievous desire in them. It was clear she wanted to pick up right where we left off, craving me as much as I longed for her touch.

Aware that my neighbors were oblivious to my bisexuality—or anyone else but her and my boyfriend, for that matter—Sara waited for me to close the door before grabbing my face and planting a passionate kiss on my lips.

Our bodies pressed together, curves melding perfectly, her soft breasts crushing against mine, her hips nestling into the curve of my waist. We devoured each other with desperate urgency, our tongues tasting and exploring as if trying to consume every last bit of each other, all of our pent-up desire finally released.

After a fiery dance of tongues, where it felt as if Sara had completely lost herself in me, she finally broke the kiss and began to look around the apartment. Her shoulders lifted, and her movements toward the mudroom seemed cautious, as if the sudden awareness of her surroundings had unsettled her.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked, wanting to break the tension.

Ignoring my question, Sara slipped off her shoes and hung her purse on the hook.

"Are you sure he isn't coming home tonight?" Sara asked quietly, as if she feared my boyfriend might already be lurking somewhere in the apartment.

That was the first red flag I chose to ignore about Sara. She entered my life, agreeing to eventually join my boyfriend and me in bed, along with her husband. Since I was her first woman, she asked to get comfortable with just me at first, which my boyfriend agreed to, pleased that she could keep me satisfied while he was travelling for work.

Sara's sudden worry about my boyfriend being home felt odd, especially since I had told her beforehand that he was away. It felt like she didn't trust me, despite the fact that I had always been honest with her. A voice in my mind whispered, maybe she isn't being truthful with me, but I quickly pushed that thought aside.

"No. He won't be back until Wednesday," I reassured her.

Sara grinned, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I missed you so much, Emma. You're all I can think about. It makes getting through my boring job easier."

She blurted out the words as if pressured to say them. It felt nice to hear them, and I couldn't shake the feeling that she might feel more than just attraction to me. Being desired and wanted by such a sexy woman felt so good that it overshadowed any concerns I had about potentially complicating our fling.

"I'm glad," I replied, smiling. "I missed you too," I added, doing my best not to show the restraint in my voice.

Though I liked her more than just a friend with benefits, I loved my boyfriend, and Sara could never replace him in my heart.

We moved to the living room, where I poured us both a glass of white wine. As we settled on the couch, the atmosphere became more relaxed and intimate.

As Sara leaned in closer, she took my glass from my hand and placed both our glasses on the coffee table. Her eyes locked with mine. "You've been on my mind all week," she murmured, running her fingers through my hair. "I couldn't wait to see you again."

My lips parted, and my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest as her succulent lips brushed against mine in a soft, lingering kiss.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Sara whispered against my lips.

"Mphm," I murmured in agreement, my vaginal walls convulsing with a rush of exhilarating heat spreading through my veins.

On our way to the bedroom, our hands were everywhere, hastily removing our tops and bras and leaving them strewn across the floor. Our lips remained locked, thirsty for more, while our tongues twirled in a fiery dance.

Her fingers found their way to the nape of my neck, firmly pulling me closer. I felt her soft breasts press against mine, her erect nipples brushing against my bare skin, sending a jolt of lust straight to my core. The sensation shot through me, igniting a molten need between my thighs that pulsed with every beat of my heart.

As we stumbled into the bedroom, still kissing, I backed her toward the bed. We fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, our insatiable kisses sloppy, ravenous, and wildly out of control. Our breaths came in short, rapid gasps, her chest rising and falling against mine in a frantic rhythm. Sara moaned into my mouth, her hands gripping my waist, her nails digging into my skin as our untamed craving escalated to a fever pitch.

My clit throbbed, a familiar ache begging for a flick of her tongue. But I knew better than to rush. I desired to taste her first, to feel her softness on my tongue, to feel her body arch beneath me, and to hear her moans as I coaxed her into bliss. I wanted to savor every moment, every touch, every sound, and every taste of her before I allowed myself to fall over the edge. So I held back, even though my body screamed for release.

Breaking the kiss, I whispered, my voice hoarse with need, "I want you. Now."

Sara nodded, her breath coming in short pants and her eyes glazed with longing. "Take me," she breathed, inviting me to lead and take control.

Normally, with my boyfriend, I assumed the submissive role, but with her, everything changed. I felt an intense urge to dominate, to take charge in a way that made my pulse race.

I leaned in, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, relishing the feel of her pulse thrumming beneath my lips. I nipped lightly at her delicate skin, my teeth grazing her collarbone, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

My tongue traced a path of wet heat downward until I reached the valley between her breasts, where I lingered, looking up at her. I saw the hunger in her ocean-deep eyes, the way she looked at me as if I were the only thing that mattered, the only thing that could satisfy her thirst. Her cheeks flushed crimson with arousal, her hazed eyes half-lidded with desire he was the most stunning sight as she whispered, "Please."

That single word, spoken with such urgency, made my swollen bud throb even faster as I leaned in to capture her left pink nipple between my lips, teasing it with my tongue. I suckled gently, my tongue flicking against the sensitive bud, arousing it to hardness.

Sara's breasts were very different from mine, with hers bearing the signs of motherhood and mine looking the same as when I was a teenager, but I found them beautiful and desirable. My tongue swirled, savoring the taste of her skin, while my hands cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in my palms and appreciating every curve and contour.

Her soft whimpers and the feel of her hands gripping my shoulders urged me on. I wanted to give her more, to push her further, so I moved to her right nipple, lavishing the same attention on it. As I suckled and flicked, her whimpers grew louder, her hands tightening their grip on my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. It was an unspoken request for me to continue the delicious torture.

I craved to take her to the heights of ecstasy, to hear her moans turn to begging. I was determined to be the best lover she’d ever had, to make her cum hard, knowing she struggled to reach that peak with her husband.

Her body arched beneath me, offering herself to my touch, her breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath as she surrendered to the pleasure I was creating.

"Please, Emma," Sara murmured. "Please…"

I knew what she wanted without her having to say it, and I was more than willing to give it to her.

With deft fingers, I unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down her legs, revealing the black sheer thong that hugged her hips. The fabric was already damp with her arousal, and I couldn't resist leaning in to lick along the delicate material, tasting her sweet tang.

"Oh my gawd, that feels so good," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as her fingers entwined in my hair.

As I continued to playfully taunt her, her delicate pearl, hidden beneath the thin fabric, began to swell. My excitement soared with each gasp and moan from her lips. Sara squirmed with delight, her thighs trembling as goosebumps formed on her skin. Her body was so exquisitely responsive to my touch, and I wanted to give her more than she ever imagined possible.

"Please," Sara whimpered, her hips lifting from the bed, her yearning evident.

With a playful smirk, I teasingly slid the thong down her smooth legs, revealing her shaved, glistening mound to my ravenous gaze. After going down on her a few times, I knew exactly how to make her lose control, so this time I felt confident, unconcerned about whether I would be able to satisfy her. I already knew how much she loved my tongue.

I lowered my head, my tongue circling her bud, teasing it, as my lips closed around it, sucking gently. My tongue flicked and swirled in a delicate dance, causing her breath to catch and her fingers to tighten around my hair.

"You are so good at this, Emma," Sara moaned. I enjoyed hearing her say my name in that breathless, needy tone.

My tongue dipped lower, delving into her warmth, tasting her arousal, and exploring her softness. As her hips bucked against my mouth, I added fingers, sliding two inside her, curling them to find that spot that made her cry out.

My tongue moved in slow, deliberate, firm strokes, tantalizing her bundle of nerves, while my fingers maintained their rhythmic thrusting, sending her spiraling into a delirious state of pleasure. Her moans grew louder, her body quivering.

"Oh, Emma… Emma… Oh, gawd, Emma..."

My name began as a soft chant, evolved into a fervent mantra, and culminated in a desperate prayer as she whispered it, her voice rising in pitch with every lick and touch. Her juices coated my fingers, and her tangy scent filled the air as she arched her back, pressing herself against my mouth and hand.

"More," Sara begged, her voice thick with need for me to continue the delicous torture.

I obliged, pressing my tongue firmer against her sensitive button, my lips sucking gently. My fingers worked their magic, curling and stroking, finding that sweet spot again that made her shudder. Her moans filled the room, her body offering itself to me in all its vulnerability. I could feel her muscles convulsing around my fingers as her honey coated my tongue and fingers, making me crazy with desire for her.

"Please don't stop," Sara murmured.

I had no intention of stopping. I wanted to take her higher than she had ever been before, to a point where she could completely let go and succumb to the pleasure I was providing her.

My tongue danced faster, my fingers curling and stroking, never breaking the rhythm. Her eyes rolled back, her vaginal walls clenched tightly around my fingers, and her body convulsed as ecstasy consumed her completely.

Sara's cry echoed off the walls as she climaxed, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Continuing to pleasure her, I watched as her face contorted in bliss, her eyes closed as she surrendered completely, allowing me to witness her in all her vulnerability. It gave me a sense of power and intimacy—a rush of satisfaction.

Her juices flowed, and I continued to lap at her, savoring every last drop of pleasure, my fingers gently easing her down from the high. When she finally came back to reality, she opened her eyes, and her flushed face beamed at me as I sat back on my knees, admiring the beauty of her post-orgasmic bliss.

"Let me do you," Sara breathed, her eyes distant with the lingering euphoria of her climax.

I shook my head, a soft smile playing on my lips. "No, no," I insisted, moving to lie down next to her. "Let's just enjoy the afterglow."

We snuggled close, my head resting on her chest, enjoying the warmth of our intimacy. Soft kisses were exchanged, lips brushing gently, a stark contrast to the intensity of our previous encounter, but equally meaningful. Our arms were wrapped around each other, fingers tracing idle patterns on exposed skin as we savored the comfort of our embrace.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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