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I sit at the desk of my holiday house in Carinthia, gazing out at the deep blue lake, trying to focus on my work. But my thoughts keep drifting—to her. Sophia. Mid-thirties, long, dark hair falling over her shoulders, and those eyes, deep as the lake, where I could lose myself. I’m a writing teacher, married for over ten years to a man who leaves me cold. Our marriage is a desert. Here, in this solitude, I finally feel free. The group is small, only five participants, and I’ve gotten to know them all quickly. But Sophia… she’s different. When she writes, she leans over her paper, lips slightly parted, her breasts under the thin blouse—I can see the hard tips of her nipples when she concentrates. I stare at her, and something tightens in my lower belly.
On the second evening, we’re all having dinner. Sophia wears a flowing dress that bares her shoulders. I sit across from her, and my eyes keep wandering to her cleavage, to the soft curves outlined beneath the fabric. She catches my gaze, and a smile plays on her lips. “You’re watching me,” she says softly, later, when we stand by the lake shore. The moon reflects on the water, and the air is heavy with summer. “Yes,” I admit, my heart racing. “I can’t help it. Your texts… they’re so sensual. So full of longing.” She steps closer, her hand touching my arm. “And what longs inside you?” she whispers. I swallow. My skin tingles under her touch. “I long for something I haven’t felt in years. For passion. For a kiss that leaves me breathless.” Her eyes sparkle. “Then take it.”
I step forward, my lips finding hers. The kiss is soft at first, then more urgent. I feel her tongue pressing against mine, and a moan escapes me. My hands slide into her hair, pulling her closer. Her body presses against mine, and I feel the warmth radiating from her. “Come with me,” I breathe, and we go to the house, up the stairs, into my bedroom. The door clicks shut behind us, and I’m alone with her. Moonlight falls through the window as I push her onto the bed. Her dress is an obstacle I remove immediately. I pull it over her head, and she lies there, only in a thin slip. Her breasts are full, nipples hard and erect. I bend down and take one in my mouth, suckling, while my hand strokes the other. She moans, her back arching. “Touch me,” she gasps, “everywhere.”
My hand moves downward, under her slip. I feel her heat, her wetness. She’s wet, dripping wet for me. I stroke through her slit and find her clitoris, hard and swollen. “Yes, there,” she gasps, her legs spreading wide. I slide a finger into her, and she inhales sharply. She’s tight, hot, and I feel her muscles clench around my finger. I move slowly, feeling her walls enveloping me. A second finger joins, stretching her, while my thumb rubs her clit. “Fuck me,” she moans, “fuck me harder.” I obey, thrusting deeper, faster. Her breath catches, her body trembles, and I feel her come, her pussy contracting around my fingers, the juice running out of her. She screams my name, and I feel a wave of power surging through me.
Then it’s her turn. She pushes me onto my back and opens my blouse, my pants. My pussy is already wet as she strokes her fingers over my inner thighs. “You’re so wet,” she whispers. “You did this to me.” I moan as she circles my clit with her tongue. Her tongue is skilled, finding every sensitive spot. She dips into me and out again, while her fingers are inside me, opening me up. I feel the heat building inside me, the tension coursing through me. “I’m coming,” I pant, and my body convulses as the orgasm crashes over me. My vision blurs, my moaning echoes in the room. She kisses me as I tremble, and I taste myself on her lips.
In the following days, we spend every free minute together. Our class sessions are torture—I can’t concentrate when she sits next to me, her hand on my leg, her fingers drawing circles on my skin. After class, we retreat. Once, I lie on the bed, and she kneels over me, her panties already off. I see her wet cunt, the lips swollen and glistening. “Lick me,” she commands, and I bury my head between her legs. My tongue penetrates her while I wrap my lips around her clit. She rides my face, her juice flowing into my mouth, and I taste the saltiness of her lust. She comes with a long, throaty scream, and I lick her out until she shudders.
Then it’s my turn. She pushes me onto my stomach, spreads my ass cheeks, and dips her tongue into my ass. I jerk up, startled, but she holds me down. “Relax,” she whispers. I do, and I feel her tongue entering me, deep and skilled. She licks me until I’m completely soft, then turns me over. She sits on my face, her cunt over my mouth, and begins to lick me. We eat each other out, two tongues intertwining, until we both come. I scream into her pussy as my body twitches and my juice runs over her tongue.
One afternoon, when the sun is high and we lie naked by the lake, she suddenly becomes wild. She drags me into the water, and the cold liquid surrounds us. She presses me against a rock and takes my breasts in her hands, sucking on them. My legs open, and she pushes her hand between my thighs. Three fingers penetrate me, and I feel her spreading me open. “You belong to me,” she hisses as she fucks me, the fingers inside me, stretching me. I hold onto her hips as the water foams around us. I come, right in her hand, and my scream echoes across the lake. She holds me until my trembling subsides, then kisses me, her tongue in my mouth, while her juice drips from my hand.
The nights are long and full of passion. Once, she ties my hands to the bed frame with a rope. I lie naked before her, and she takes her time exploring my body. She licks my feet, my
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