Hey Jill ... Jessica again just trying to stay in touch. I can’t believe how fast this year has gone by. I can’t believe how good a friend June has become. Sometimes she surprises me. Pleasant surprises. For instance, yesterday we were sitting on the stairs going through a picture book of erotic art, and June said she especially liked this one of a naked woman peeling an orange.

I asked her what she liked about it, and she said she wasn’t sure. I told her maybe it would help if she made up a story about it. “About the woman and the orange?” June asked. “Yeah, or the painting of it,” I told her. “It might help if you put yourself in the story.”

So here’s June’s story.

The painting of the woman peeling the orange is hanging on the stairway. It’s a bit cockeyed. Is that a word? Cockeyed? You tell me yeah it means crooked. You tell me maybe I should straighten it. So I go up the stairs until I’m right at the painting. From up close I can see details that don’t quite show up in the book version. For instance there’s a squitch of juice on the woman’s tummy. It must have squirted out while she was peeling the orange. I have an urge to lick the juice. But of course it would be silly to lick a painting. Also I notice that the woman’s pussy mound isn’t quite bare. There’s a covering of light fuzz, like on a peach. The juice is just above the fuzz, about halfway between the fuzz and the belly button. If it were real life the juice might seep down into the fuzz. It would be different licking the juice from the fuzz compared to licking it from her bare skin. Also from up close I can see more detail of the woman’s sex. The top of her sex slot. The hood of her clit. Now what I really want to do is feel the skin of her clit hood. And maybe even slide my finger into the slot. I’m almost certain she’d be moist. And I’d feel the slipperiness of her sex juice on her cunt skin. And I’d slide my finger deeper, easing it into the cunt itself. And I’d caress her there, inside her cunt. I’d caress her until she came. But I have no idea what sort of sounds she’d make while she was coming. Or how hard her cunt would clench. Or

June’s story pretty much stopped there because I had two fingers in her cunt, and it was slippery with her sex juice, and she was starting to come, those sweet hard clenches of orgasm, and the nearly silent, breathless gasp she makes.

When her orgasm is over I take my fingers from her cunt and smooth them along her lips, back and forth, and she takes my fingers into her mouth and sucks them, a slow, lingering sort of suck, and our eyes are locked in each other’s, and I take my fingers from her mouth and insert them back in her cunt even as we’re kissing, and we’re kissing and she’s coming again.

Afterwards we smile at each other. “I loved your story,” I tell her. “I love you,” I tell her. “Would you like an orange?”

She chuckles, and then her mouth joins mine and her fingers slide into my cunt.

So the picture never got straightened.