X S E X


Sweet To Eat by khemistry

So I have this problem, see? Like everyone else on this planet, I know. But mine is kinda freaky. And kinda vanilla. Maybe not so strange. I’m just not sure how weird I am. I mean, I was married once. Sort of. Back then a girl couldn’t marry another girl, not legally. But we had the ceremony. Both of us were lipstick lezzies. Everyone we knew said it wouldn’t last. And it didn’t. I mean, I’m not strictly speaking a lesbian. Neither was she. But I liked her pussy, and when she left she took it with her.

So what is my problem, then? Well, she did leave this little denim one-piece dress I liked a lot. It zipped up the back, slick as sin. An oh how I loved to reach behind her while we were kissing and unzip her. She was a tiny thing with curly blonde hair. Let’s call her J for the purpose of this discussion.

I don’t know why she left the dress. Maybe she just forgot it. But it was one of her favorite outfits, and she looked so sweet inside it. Like a piece of candy, all for me. And she used to wear a certain perfume. I think it was called ‘Red Door’. She left a little spray bottle of it, too.

Now I’ve had several partners since those days: two men and another woman. But no matter how serious it gets, I do this thing with the denim dress…not a lot…but every few months the feeling will get me going, right? Now, I’m basically a good girl. I write about my sex life with three other college friends. We started XSEX a long time ago, to discuss our ex-girlfriends and boyfriends. Our x-sexlife. Now none of us have really kept up with the site. My college buddy G actually did all the work building the site because I don’t like computers. But we all know the login codes and we all contribute. Until G stopped to become “serious” about a sci-fi novel. Plus, he said talking about this stuff was not “healthy”. I disagree. And it makes me horny.

And it’s been awhile since I got the urge, with the dress. So here it is: last night it just hit me like a wall. I even thought about calling J up. We’ve talked a few times. She’s married to a guy. She has video of him wearing women’s clothes and she will take care of him with a plastic dick. So I don’t know what that means. I guess he’s a freak like all of us. But I have these urges…maybe if I had a copy of the video I could make him leave. I could get into J’s panties. Because I really want to. So instead I find the old bottle of ‘Red Door’ and spray it on the denim dress. The denim dress is way out of style now. But I keep it in the bottom drawer of my dresser. With the perfume and some pictures (PG-13 or a soft R) we took on our “wedding night”.

I lay the denim dress over me, like J used to lay on top of me and we would touch each other. So now I have this physical weight, and it smells like her, and I unzip it and touch myself and remember it all. All the stuff we used to do. And in five minutes I am a wet rag, all wrung out. Breathing heavy. Wow.

I guess I need to get out more. I mean, I’m 40 years old now! I feel cheap when I do this. Once a year now. Maybe twice. And I went for about three years without it. So why do I still think about her? I don’t love her, she doesn’t love me. We’ve talked on the phone. She sent me a picture of her tits once. Still firm. “Remember when these used to be yours?” she texted me. What a bitch.

My boyfriend is home. Oh shit.

 

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