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LISA'S
SWEATERGIRL
by Shay
LESBIAN GIRLS.
It
was just a job. Like a billion other jobs smeared across the want ads
every day, scoured by the bored, the desperate,
and the luckless. Well, I WAS a little bored. But I wasn't desperate.
And hokey smokes Bullwinkle, I sure wasn't luckless....though I thought
at first that I was. I wasn't real sure about working for a woman
younger than myself. Lisa was only 27 and I am...well, I am older than
that. Oh, no walkers, no being led gently back to my room by Nursie...but
I am older than 27.
My first mistake, if it was one, was to wear my favorite sweater set to
work on my second day there. A sleeveless wool turtleneck with a matching
sweater coat. I felt so sensual,
just sitting there at my computer, so wrapped up in warm softness. No
sense of urgency. No striving to achieve
corporate goals. Sweater Slacker Queen rides again! Not to say that I
am not a good employee. It's just that, well, I have this thing about
sweaters. So, there I was, feeling rather languorous when Lisa walked
into my cubicle, my wretched little cell.
She bent to look over my shoulder at my computer screen. Oh, I was glad
it was not showing Collapse or Bounce Out or Bash the Bouncing Muskrat
or something. Oh no, my computer, at least, was hard at work, a busy little
beaver of a good machine. And Lisa saw this as she leaned close to look.
As her hand rested on the back of my neck. As her perfectly manicured
index finger ran almost imperceptibly just above the neck of my sweater,
like the kiss
of a breeze. Oh my.
It was certainly an accident, I thought. Of course. But no.....
Her finger deliberately stroked my neck as she leaned close and I could
smell Hugo Deep Red. I started to shift in my chair. Lisa said quickly,
peremptorily, "Don't move." There was a long moment, a bizarre
shift from reality, and I thought this is inappropriate, this is insane,
illegal, this is...her hand held my throat gently...this is...oh, something,
something... I didn't move. And my nipples stood up. I was sure Lisa could
see them through my sweater. So disobedient they were! Such tattle tales!
This won't do, I thought
breathlessly. How dare she, I thought happily. Hmm.
"There's an eyelash, about to fall in your eye," she said softly.
"Hold still and let me get it." Her right hand held me still
as her left hand plucked the offending lash out of harm's way. I blinked.
Her fingertips had touched my skin, my face, just below my eye. So light,
So...personal. And then, she stroked my cheek--the rogue eyelash may have
been there, who knows?--and turned and left, smiling at me like Mama Cat
trotting off with a fat mouse in her jaws.
"Thank you," I said after her, involuntarily admiring her tailored
blouse and hounds tooth skirt. I wanted to run my hands over that skirt.
With her in it. Would that make me Employee of the Month or a jobseeker,
I wondered vacantly as she rounded out of sight. I exhaled deeply. I fumbled
for my mouse. It may as well have been an astrolabe for all I knew what
to do with it at that moment. I bit my lip. I raised my eyebrow. I smiled
to myself. Ohhhh my.
I
may have been just the tiniest bit flustered by her after that. I would
do things like drop my pen while we were standing together discussing
a project, and then I would drop down in ladylike fashion to fetch it
and there I would be, looking up at her grey slacks and up, further to
her matching grey cashmere sweater. She was like a topographical map of
gently curved Heaven. She would toss her hair and look down at me, amused,
and I would flush, and stand back up. And discuss sales demographics or
the price of dates in Istanbul or god knows what, and it was at one of
these times that she said, in her dripping honey voice, "Meet me
after work." Again it was way out of line. She was my boss and I
was her employee, and it was rude as well, not a question but a command.
I nodded, imagining my cheek against her soft grey shoulder. Ohmygod.
This is where I have to apologize. You see, we went to eat, or to a movie,
or bungee jumped off the Arc de Triomphe or something, what difference
does it make, what matter is that after we did whatever thing it
was we did, she made me go to the mall with her. Hardly shocking? Oh but
wait. She steered me gently but firmly with her hand in the small of my
back...caressing me through my deep red lambs wool sweater...she made
it clear where I was to go. She told me that I liked the grey and pink
striped cashmere turtleneck we found. She informed me that I adored the
deep green merino wool vee neck that would be huge on me. She helped me
realize that I had to have the light blue mohair. I bought them all, in
a trance. Oh. I also bought the mittens and the scarves which she graciously
pointed out that I wanted dearly. Perhaps we were going spelunking? Certainly
heights must be involved. We walked out of the mall and through the parking
lot. She opened the door of her red sports car for me. She took my packages
and loaded them in the back. And then she took us all home to her apartment.
I wore the grey and pink horizontal striped cashmere pullover. At he
instruction, I wore nothing else. And she changed into a tight ribbed
turtleneck of saffron yellow, and she wore green legwarmers, and she wore...a
smile as she approached me where I lay on my back on her bed. She reached
for the scarves that I had bought at her bidding. She dangled them gently
across my face and over the insides of my upturned wrists. I stretched
my hands up toward the bedposts as she moved over me on her hands and
knees. "Would you like me to restrain you?" Lisa purred sweetly.
"Yes." I nearly begged. "I think you should stay right
like that," she cooed to me, " just because I have told you
to. Don't move until I give you permission, my sweet princess. I want
you bound by my voice and my will." She bent and kissed my cheeks
and my hair. "I want you to show me that you are incapable of disobeying
me," she continued as she kissed my breasts through my sweater. I
longed to embrace her, to wrap my arms around her in a lover's embrace,
but I stayed spread out as she wished for me to, but I couldn't help squirming
and moaning as she sucked my nipple through my sweater. She lavished attention
on my breasts for a long time before sitting back prettily on her feet.
I was on fire and I knew I was wetter than I had ever been, all because
of this woman. She reached over next to the bed and put on the mittens.
I had not been
told I could move yet and so I didn't. It was delicious. Lisa cupped my
face in her mittened hands and kissed me deeply. I groaned into her mouth,
out of my mind with pleasure as she savored my
mouth with her tongue and held my face softly. The combination of sensations
was driving me insane. Sexy mittens! Who knew? Then she put her right
hand, still wearing the mitten, between my legs and stroked me. I yelped
from sheer delight and ground against her hand. I was panting and repeating
her name over and over. And all she had done was stroke and kiss me. Then
she caressed my face again with the now wet mitten, and moved her legwarmer-clad
thigh between my legs to take me as one woman does another. I begged to
be allowed to hold her. "You may wrap your legs around me, but your
arms stay where they are," she commanded. Instantly, my legs went
gratefully around Lisa's hips and my calves caressed the backs of her
thighs as I moved under her in a state of growling crazy lust. As I got
close, she took off a mitten and ran her fingers under my
turtleneck and gently clasped her hand around my throat. She moved her
sweatered body against mine and whispered in my ear a single word. "Mine!"
she said and I had the strongest orgasm I had ever had or even imagined.
I bucked underneath her screaming her name. I thought I would tear myself
to pieces the sensations were so strong, yet I was surrounded by sensual
softness and all was simply an ever-deepening pleasure. After I had subsided,
Lisa whispered in my ear again. "Put your arms around me, Lover."
I did. I purred. I caressed her through her sweater and then ran my
hands up under it to adore her more intimately. God, what is more thrilling
than a woman's soft skin, warmed by wool and softness? I groaned again
in sheer delight. "I've gotten your legwarmer all wet," I said
into her ear, and then circled my tongue there, following my words. "All
in a good cause," she assured me with a wicked smile. "From
now on," she continued, " just the sight of me in a sweater
will have you dripping. Just the sound of my voice will have you needing
me. And you may never," she added, running a mitten wet from my own
sex across my lips, "see certain clothes quite the same way."
"Shut up and do me again," I commanded her. "Hey!"
she responded, smiling wonderfully, "Just remember who the boss is
around here!" And then she made love to me again and again, until,
in my joy, I wanted to cry. Oh my!
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