Memorial Day

Emily were in bed Friday evening; we had a "date night," well, "date day" I suppose, since it really started at lunch time when we both blew off our office jobs for the weekend. We golfed that afternoon (I won, as usual), had a few beers and a hot dog on the course, then cooked dinner on the grill and enjoyed the spring evening.

As I said, we were in bed, having showered, freshened up, pretty.

I was wearing a pink satin camisole and tap panty set, white lace top thigh high stockings, and a white bra holding my breastforms.

Emily was also dressed in lingerie, a black babydoll, sheer panties, black lace top thigh high stockings.

We had a bottle of wine in the bedroom (our second), some candles, yes, one of those evenings.

Emily was sitting up, leaning on an arm, with the other, reached up, touched my face. Her soft, stocking covered leg, was touching one of mine, gently, slowly, moving back and forth, caressing.

-You're so pretty.

I blushed, her words, her recognition of my femininity, her excitement, her reaction to it,

always brought me a rush.

-I love you.

I leaned in to kiss her, my lips barely brushed the bare skin of her neck, my favorite place to start, to smell, to savor, the scent of her, the feel of her.

She jumped, as did I, the sound startled us both. Her ringing cell phone, on the night stand. Beethoven's Ninth.

-Sorry. Let me just see who that is, turn that off.

-I...

I started to tell her to ignore it, to hold her in place with another kiss, but she was quick, with feline grace, had grabbed her iPhone.

-Oh, she said, swiping her finger across the screen, answering, not ignoring, the call.

-Hey!

Her voice, excited.

-No, no, don't be silly, how have you been?

I took a deep breath in, exhaled. Why did one of her friends have to call now? From her tone, it had to be one of her college girls. Fuck. Yea, fuck, when I wanted to fuck. Fuck.

-I know, it's been like forever!

I stared at her foot, her ankle, her calve. Perfect, made more so, encased in a stocking. I could not resist, not then, not ever. I scooted slowly towards the corner of the bed, here leg and foot rested, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Fine, if she wanted to interrupt my seduction, I'd just continue elsewhere, interrupt the interruption.

I was on my hands and knees, she was looking towards the window.

-Good, great, really, you?

My mouth was an inch from her foot, she was still paying me no attention. I inhaled again, long, deep, the perfume of her, her scent started in my nose, but worked its way, magically, into me, into my mind, my body.

I stared at her toes through the dark nylon, was almost shaking, the sight always setting my heart to racing.

I don't know if I wanted to, intended to, but I was overcome, helpless, really. My tongue darted out, licked, feline just as she was, graceful.

Emily jumped.

-Oh!

She looked over at me, crossed her eyes slightly, but did not move her foot.

-What? No, no, nothing.

I licked again, the back of her ankle, her calve.

-Memorial Day Weekend? No, that's charming. I don't think I have plans, just a sec, let me check.

She rolled onto her back, lifted her phone up to look at the screen. Intentionally or not, more likely so, the foot I had licked was on my chest, between my breasts, toes pointed directly towards my mouth, the other, with the same unaffected thought, came to rest directly against the front of my satin tap panties, unseen to me, but felt, erotically, through the fabric.

-I don't have anything on my calendar. What do you have in mind?

She was excited, by me or her free schedule for a get together with college friends, I did not know, but her toes moved forward, to my lips, presented themselves for adoration.

I opened my mouth, tongue extended, tasted, the nylon, her, encouraged by her other foot, softly, slowly, seductively, moving, massaging.

-That sounds. She paused, toes licked. -Wonderful. I'd love to come out there.

She can orgasm just from me licking her toes, something I was trying to create while she was on the phone.

-Well, email me, we can talk details later, but I'll block out the weekend. Yea, me, too. Talk to you later.

She hung up, dropped the phone on the table next to the bed.

-Who was that, I asked, looking up at her.

-Oh, fuck, don't stop, she hissed, pushing her toes back into my mouth, silencing me, rubbing me with her other foot, encouraging me, making me forget, for the moment, anything but her stocking covered legs.

Minutes later, I had worked my way up to her thighs, gently, teasingly, licking, kissing, the nylon, her bare skin just above. I enjoyed the teasing, brushing the tip of my nose over the sheer panties covering her, breathing, letting her know I was going to lick her, just not until she begged for it.

But Emily was not in the mood to beg for my oral attention, quite the opposite, rather. She lifted her hips, one, the other, her weight, force, flipping us, opposite, so I was on my back, she atop me, instead of my mouth hovering over her, she was hovering over me.

Instinctively, hungrily, I stuck my tongue out seeking the sheer fabric of her panties, the dampness already evident underneath. I was almost there, my tongue may have grazed the sheer nylon, when she lifted her hips up slightly.

-Now who is going to make who beg, sissy, she chuckled

-Emily!

She lowered her hips, again my tongue almost reached her when she stopped.

-It's ironic, most women have to beg their boyfriends to lick them.

-Please Emily. I asked softly, not even bothering to deny that she was right, not bothering to do anything but beg.

-You'll do anything I want, won't you my pretty lover?

-Yes. I whimpered, shaking with sexual excitement, spurred by her body, her lingerie, mine, her scent, anticipating the taste.

She lowered her hips yet again, this time allowing her panty covered mound to rest on my tongue for a second or two.

-I know how turned on you get licking me through my panties, she teased, imagining I've just come home from a date.

I gasped, the image immediately flashing into my mind, Emily now hovering over me, wet not just from her but...

She lowered herself onto me. -Taste it, lover, taste, open, taste.

I did, eyes closed, mouth open. It took less than a minute for her to orgasm, the wave starting, shaking, all over her, the wave that when I licked her, could go on and on and on, minute, after minute, ten, fifteen, more.

-Sara, she whispered. I opened my eyes as she lifted off my tongue, just an inch. I looked at her, but my eye went to her panties, her fingers moving them aside, touching herself, spreading herself, rubbing, shaking.

-Sara, she said again. My eyes went to hers, but right back to her fingers, now wet, rubbing.

-Saraaa, she was starting to shake, starting cum again.

-Sara, look at me.

I looked up, mouth open, tongue out. She bounced on it, once, twice, three times, touching her clit to the tip.

-The phone call, Sara, she managed to say, struggling to talk through her breathing, through the orgasm she was having from her fingers, the quick touches of my tongue.

-That was Evan.

I sucked in a deep breath, his name a shot through my skull.

Evan.

She was going to see Evan.

He invited her for the weekend, Memorial Day weekend, as he did last year.

Evan.

She was over my mouth, her orgasm powerful from my tongue, of its own volition, swarming all over her, sucking, kissing, licking, drinking.

She was going to spend the weekend with Evan again.

She did not ask, like last year, announced.

Evan.

I thought his name as I licked her.

Evan.

I imagined him inside her.

Evan.

I imagined tasting him.

Evan.

Evan.