Bree broke off the kiss and assaulted the woman’s throat with an open mouth and lapping tongue. She made love to the pulse point below the jaw. She fucked the blonde’s ear with her hot, wet tongue. Bree cupped both her breasts. kneading them gently. The blonde arched her back and threw back her head baring her throat in a submission of sorts.  

Bree managed to push her skirt almost to her waist and then cupped her sex through her panties, and boy, was it wet.

She moaned as she was touched in her most intimate feature and then groaned when Bree dragged a fingernail up from the bottom of her pussy lips to her clit, circling but not touching it.

Her arms had been stretched out over the back of the seat but now they were around the dancer. Her hands cupped Bree’s bottom and squeezed it so hard that she knew she’d have bruises. Reasserting control, the young dancer reached back with both hands and grabbed her wrists, twisting them up and away and shoving her arms back to the top of the seat.

“This is a lap dance not a fuck session and one of the rules is – no grabbing the dancer,” she growled.  

“Please, I want – I need – to cum,” the blonde breathed out, her lips twisting with the distaste of begging for it.

Bree leaned in and kissed her fully on the mouth and slipped her slim fingers inside the waistband of the blonde’s panties and down – until she encountered a veritable old growth forest of pubic hair.

‘My God, doesn’t this woman at least trim her vulva?’

Bree combed through the pubic jungle and found her slit and slipped a finger inside and it was like sticking her finger into wet molten heat. She jerked and moaned into Bree’s mouth and her tongue fucked the dancer’s mouth as well. She angled her hips and then thrust down onto Bree’s finger and the blonde gasped once and then began to shudder.

Bree slipped in another finger and pressed the heel of her palm against the clitoris. The older woman broke off the kiss, threw her arms around Bree’s neck and began nibbling at her ear and moaning as she felt her insides begin to coil.

Bree’s fingers stroked her pussy walls. They clamped down as the shorter girl ground her palm against the blonde’s clit. She whimpered each time Bree drew her nails over her g-spot and finally when Bree’s hand started a side-to-side motion, her wet pussy flooded with cum.

“Ohhhhh, fuuuuuuck…”

Yeah, Miss Prim and Proper said the F-word.

They stayed like that, her arms around Bree’s neck, her mouth beside her ear, occasionally kissing it and sighing with pleasure until the awkwardness set in. She looked uncomfortable. Bree deliberately slid her moist pussy down the length of that long thigh and then turned and reached into the front seat to grab her panties and jeans.

She heard a sharp intake of breath and Bree realized the position she was in and giggled.

“Get used to seeing it.” Bree meant one thing; the blonde thought she meant something else entirely different.

“Oh, yes, I suppose so.

May I – you didn’t – I mean – “ Bree was still bent over the console, feeling around for her bra.

“Look, we’re going to have to sharpen our communications skill set. I don’t think you’ve completed many sentences and all these hesitations while you pussyfoot around what you want wastes time – time you’re paying for. Now, finish a sentence.”

They say that actions speak louder than words and what the blonde did spoke volumes.

She slid two fingers into the dancer’s damp pussy with unerring accuracy. “You’re aroused,” she said. And Bree definitely was. She slid her fingers in and out slowly twice, as if testing her technique. Bree couldn’t stop the hiss of pleasure that wheezed between her lips when the blonde did that.

“You don’t have any pubic hair. How novel. I’ve never touched a hairless one before.”

She continued her exploration of the dancer’s dampening pussy as it got wetter and wetter.

When she turned her hand over and started stroking the roof of Bree’s vagina and sliding over her g-spot the dancer pushed backwards until those fingers were deep inside. She moaned and began fucking those long, nimble fingers, shuddering and whimpering like a virgin. The palm of her other hand caressed Bree’s buttocks and from her loud breathing, Bree could tell that Miss Prim and Proper was about to cum again.

As if on cue, she slid a third finger inside and her thrusts in were faster and deeper and this increased the pressure on the g-spot and Bree began to cum, moaning and pushing back hard against her. Bree felt the blonde’s legs straighten out and tremble and the rhythm of her fingers faltered and when she peaked, so did Bree, loudly.

The blonde was sweating and her hair had come loose from its fastenings and strands were stuck to her face but she did nothing about it. She was in the ‘afterglow’ and took her fingers from Bree’s trembling pussy and sniffed at them, almost as if she were categorizing them for later analysis. Her tongue darted out and licked at one of the fingertips that had been deep in Bree’s pussy and she smiled.

She settled her clothing around her as Bree pulled on her own clothes and then gave her directions to her apartment so she could gather up her toiletries and makeup and a few things to wear.

The drive from Bree’s apartment to the woman’s was made in a brittle, palpable silence. Her mind was trying to wrap itself around the incredible opportunity that presented it self, the possibilities and the implications.

“I don’t even know your name,” Bree said softly. Her new ‘employer’ had turned off the CD player when she started to drive out of the parking lot saying that it was distracting.

She briefly glanced over at the younger woman, loathe to take her eyes off the street. “You didn’t look at the business card I gave you?” as if that would answer any and all questions.

“No. I was distracted. I shoved it into my jeans pocket and walked out to the parking lot to drive home,” said the dancer.

“Oh. Okay. I’m Dr. Cassiopeia Franklin. I’m an Associate Professor of Cultural Anthropology here at the University.”

‘Oh SHIT!’ was her first thought…