Dying Declaration
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2003 by Nina

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6 - What happens when a divorced, fifty-one year old woman, fit and attractive, hires a gorgeous call girl young enough to be her daughter? Susan has just found out she has a terminal illness, and she is determined to fulfill all of the erotic, forbidden fantasies she has supressed most of her adult life. She might think her walk on the wild side will be like her Alaskan cruise: fun and adventurous, but over and done with. Instead her last months get more involved than she ever thought possible!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Humor   DomSub   Spanking   Humiliation   White Female   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Fisting   Water Sports   Exhibitionism   Doctor/Nurse   Caution  

It was so different this time. I opened my arms for her and her nakedness melted into me. Her body seemed to vibrate gently, like a cat purring, and her eyes locked with mine for several precious moments before we kissed. There was no money, no worrying, no acting, no times, arrangements, negotiations, or "what do you want to do?". I didn't feel like I had to fill a lifetime of fantasy in one overnight stay. I had done that already.

Now, it was just the sweetness of our togetherness. Now, it was affection, tenderness, and desire.

My body remembered her, and hers me. When we finally took a break to speak, I found myself nestled against her breast, kissing the soft, pliant flesh. I was anointed with her juices, having just climbed out from between her thighs. Lying sideways, I had buried my face deep in her secrets, imprisoned happily by her legs, and devoured her. In our sideways "69", she had done the same.

I looked up at her.

"How can you be sure?" I asked her quietly. "You really haven't known me that long."

She looked down only for a moment, and replied so assuredly. "Everything was different with you, from the moment we started making love that day. Your wanting things, spontaneously, the way you asked for them, so unafraid... that was everything I've been looking for in a lover. And then," she said, her face breaking into a smile, "you fulfilled a fantasy of mine, a strong one, in a way that no one has ever come close to doing. It was like you understood everything I needed."

I smiled back. "The spanking."

She nodded, and both of us shared a giggle, remembering it.

"And maybe it wasn't just the way that worked," she went on, her fingers playing with strands of my silver hair. "But the way everything worked. Not just the sex. I mean, doing that act with Brian and Gina was actually fun, because it was for you. And then, I liked them, too, and I felt privileged to be part of your family situation, even after I found out what it was. Susan, I was actually happy to be Raquel, the massage therapist."

I laughed and shook my head. "That was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen, that performance."

She smiled, but she was trying to explain something important, I could tell. "Yeah... but I was happy that Gina liked me. And happy that you were happy. Damn, I've never been so freakin' happy with a client. And that's the thing-by that time, you were long past being a client. We did so much, and spent so much good, hanging out time together too, you know? Playing in the pool, and all that, I was like, 'I'm working?'"

She was right. We covered an awful lot of ground in that time, and none of it was forced. Once I had gotten the ball rolling with the phone call, it felt like somehow, all of this was supposed to happen. I felt like I would have met Raquel in some other circumstance, and ended up under the blanket, eating pizza and watching TV with her. It was like fate, which had been pretty cruel to me recently, decided I deserved a gift. I looked at her, and let her voice resonate in my head. What a gift she was.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" I asked.

"Yes."


Waking up next to Raquel profoundly different than anything I've ever experienced. She was still sleeping, on her side, turned away from me. I gently stroked her exposed shoulder, and then placed a kiss on her collarbone. I felt her body stir, and I kissed her again, my lips now below her earlobe, pressed against silky hair and skin that was warm with her pulse.

She said nothing, only parted her lips to breathe, and nodded ever so slightly. It was such a beautiful reaction!

I slid my hand down, then over, and played with her breasts while my kisses on her neck continued. Finally, she let out a long, soft moan, and reached back to caress my side, down to my hip. I pressed closer to her, my mound snug up against her buttock. I marveled at my own silver hair, draped on her naked skin.

She amazed me then, waking up so rapidly it was if an alarm clock went off. She turned over and almost dove into my embrace, her mouth on mine in rapacious thirst. Our bodies writhed against one another and as we kissed, she ground her clit against my pelvis. It was like I knew just what to do then, like a detailed guide to her body and her needs had fallen open in my lap-I wet my finger and reached behind her, letting it wiggle down into her crack, teasing her puckered hole. I sensed she wanted it, and she told me my instinct was right: she nodded as she continued our kiss, humming "mm-hmm" and she threw her leg over my hip to open herself wider.

In heated delight, I pushed my finger into the pinched, rubbery opening and felt it suck my finger in hungrily. A tremulous moan escaped from her throat as my finger went in. She thrashed against me as the dawn bathed us in soft light, our mouths fused, my finger plugged into her body, and her climax blossomed in waves of goosebumps and squeals.

I was so enchanted with her passion that I didn't even consider my own pleasure. As her aftershocks subsided, she looked into my eyes with a gleam of excitement and slid down on my body until her face was at my tummy. Then she looked up and said, "Where's your pancreas?"

"Some massage therapist you are," I teased. "It's about two inches above your left eye." She glanced there, smiled softly and brought her mouth up and to the left two inches. Then she placed a long soft, kiss, there, and kept kissing there for almost five full minutes. She would lift her head, look at the spot, massage it gently with her hand, and then kiss again, pressing. Once, I flinched when she pressed too hard.

"Does it hurt?"

"Only a little, sometimes. But don't stop, it feels good."

"Okay."

After a while, she moved her kisses lower, bathing my bellybutton, and drawing her lips over my pubis. Moments later, her face was all over my sex. I drew my legs up around her and let her ravish me until I my own climaxes seized me. They only intensified each time she "mmm"-ed, like she was enjoying a sweet dessert.

Breakfast, which I was used to having at about 7:30 every morning, was a little late.

For the next several days, Raquel came to me, at different times. Some times we would just sit out by the pool and talk. Other times, she would leap into my arms, and we would tear at each other's clothes, wanting each other so much that we once ended up making love the living room floor, not able to wait for a bed. Every time we made love, though, she would do that same kissing ritual on my abdomen. She seemed to enjoy it, and she had learned the right pressure to use, so there was no pain. It became like her trademark, before she went down on me, and some times on the way up. Who was I to complain?

And a couple of times, we went shopping, or went to lunch. The spectre of her mysterious job always lingered in the shadows, at silent odds with both of us. She would get a page, or a call, and then have to leave, apologizing each time. I said nothing about it, and just put it out of my mind. What was I to say? That I didn't like her being a call girl? She was a call girl before she met me. And she'd be one after... after I was gone.

 
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