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Inspired by Sheollie’s Getting Comfortable
AN: Dearest Readers, while this story borrows the premise, character concepts, and some lines of dialogue. from the above-mentioned story, I have changed it to make it my own. The character portrayals have been changed to suit my writing style and many other things were fleshed out.
I sought the author’s blessing but after waiting a month with no response (they haven’t been active here since 2008) so I am going ahead with my story. I hope you enjoy my take on this tale.
It’s 7:45 AM when I pull into the driveway of my single-story ranch home after a grueling night shift at my job. As I trudge through my front door I am almost deliriously I am that tired. I begin pulling off my aqua-colored scrubs, having not changed before I left the hospital as I was so exhausted that I simply wanted to rush home and climb into my bed. I work as an Emergency Room Nurse and the moon and the stars must have been in the right alignment because our ER was flooded from the moment I arrived until right when I was leaving.
I strip out of my scrub top and toss it onto the arm of the couch. The day is already starting to get warm but I set my thermostat to kick in at 7 AM to begin cooling off my house before I arrived. The AC feels good on my skin. My nipples begin poking into my bra, so I remove it and place it on top of my scrub top. I sigh and kick off my shoes and make my way upstairs. I walk into the master bedroom, my bedroom, and once I am by my bed I reach into the waistband of my scrub pants, taking hold of my panties as well and pushing them down off my hips. With my pants and panties now off my body and standing naked in my bedroom I move to the bathroom and start the water for my shower. Climbing into the shower once the water is warm enough I wash off my body and let the water run down my hair. Once I am done I walk out of my bedroom naked I head straight to my bed, turn down the sheets and climb in. Pulling the sheets and comforter over my body I find my grove and pass out.
I have no idea how long I have been out but my slumber is eventually disturbed by a continuous knock on my front door. In my tired state, I left my car parked outside the garage so someone knows that I am home. I know I should ignore it but the repetition is penetrating my sleep. Looking at my clock I see that it is 9:30 AM. Sighing at the realization that whoever is at my door is bound and determined to have a face-to-face with me I climb out of bed. I go into my closet and grab a simple red sundress and toss it on making my way to the front door. I open the door just as my visitor seems to finally be giving up and turning away.
Even in my tired state, I am pleasantly surprised to see the young beauty before me. With glazed eyes, I gaze upon the young woman who is turning back to my door. As she was leaving I can see the girl’s very round bubbly posterior with a pair of nicely slender yet rounded legs supporting it. Legs have to be fit to support an ass like that! The young woman is wearing a very lovely white button-up blouse and a flowing black thigh-length skirt. This girl knew what she was doing when she put her outfit together. This young girl was well put together. She turns to me and in my fatigued state it feels like she’s moving in slow motion.
The young woman is holding something in a leather-bound case to her ample bosom. Her body seems to sway for balance as she turns adding an extra toss to her head to keep her long black hair from her face. Judging by her skin tone I’m guessing that she is Hispanic but I don’t know which kind yet. She has dark brown eyes and flawless pale tan skin. My breath can’t help but catch in my throat.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” she says, smiling nervously, “I hope this isn’t a bad time. My name’s Isabella Ramirez and I’m in the neighborhood today selling fundraiser items for a trip to Daytona Beach this summer. If you have a few moments can I please show you what is available?”
No sooner had she finished speaking than I was grabbing her by the hand and practically dragging her inside my house. She finished the last part of her spiel more than a little bemused as I closed the door behind her, tempted to lock it and swallow the key. I was thinking that spending even a few minutes with this gorgeous girl would be enough to fuel my masturbatory fantasies and get me the relief I suddenly needed. If I had to help finance her trip that was a small price to pay.
“I’m Kaitlin Geraghty, please sit down honey.”
Isabella sat down within arms reach and opened her leather-bound case and reveals a tablet. She logs into the device and the catalog pops up and she begins showing me the items she had and the prices that went with them. It was a general fundraiser filled with various foods, holiday gifts, and other everyday items that you tended to find in school fundraisers. As I perused the catalog I made sure to occasionally look back up and make eye contact with the stunning Latina. She would smile as I did this and I noticed that now that she was in my nice istanbul travesti cool two-story house that she was perspiring a bit.
“Oh I’m sorry sweetie, can I offer you something to drink?”
“Please… something sweet. If you don’t have it I’ll take water, thanks.” Isabella says.
I go into the refrigerator and get her a lemonade out… specifically a Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I take it and my carton of Dole’s lemonade and mix the two. I know this is a bit on the shady side but from the moment I first laid eyes on this captivating creature I wanted her, first just in my dreams but the longer I was in her presence I knew that I just knew that I had to have her. Sure my body was tired but for a chance with her I would risk losing my job, I don’t care how tired I am. Deciding I didn’t want to risk nodding off on my beautiful companion I pull out a Red Bull energy drink and down it before taking a drink of my own lemonade.
Returning to the living room I hand my guest the drink and she thanked me. I watch as she takes a small drink. I can tell that she can taste something different in the lemonade but doesn’t say anything as she drinks it down. I settled back into the couch and I move closer into her personal space so she can show me the items on the tablet. She tries to hand it to me so that I can peruse it but I don’t take it from her choosing to feign interest in an item and asking her a question so that she has to address the inquiry and not the fact that I’m in her space. She holds the tablet in one hand and I in one of mine and she moves the page so I can see a few items that compliment the one I have shown interest in.
As we did this I took every opportunity to steal a glance down her blouse while she was distracted. I thanked god when she walked in and undone the two top buttons of her blouse when she first came in. She explained that the temperature had gone up in the last hour and that she had gotten quite warm in her outfit after her trek through my neighborhood thus far. As she leaned far enough forward I caught the occasional glimpse of her red lace bra. Thanks to the alcohol I had ingested myself my inhibitions were lowered to the point of being non-existent and I took so many liberties it was a miracle if Isabella hadn’t caught on to what I was doing as we went through her digital catalog.
As I looked at the items I began chatting up young Isabella trying to learn more about her. She tells me that she is extremely grateful for the opportunity to let her in the door. Apparently, her morning had been pretty slow thus far. There either weren’t many takers this morning, even if they opened the door. Apparently, the occasional guy had invited her in, but they weren’t so much into the items as they were into the lovely purveyor. She had managed to make a few small sales that way but always felt uneasy until she was back outside of their homes. I felt a little guilty when she said that, emphasis on ‘little’. I may not be into guys myself, but guys and I did have some proclivities in common.
“So do you see anything that you would like?” she asked after a time. There were quite a few items that I had my eye on… besides the seller. I would at least get something of value for myself to compensate her for her time but I didn’t want to decide just yet. I wanted some more quality time with Isabella.
“There are so many items that I’m considering I might need to think it over for a bit… if that’s ok?” I ask her.
“Sure, take your time. You are the first person that hasn’t just picked one item and paid me just to get me out the door.” Isabella explains.
“Ok, just let me look for a bit, longer ok? Why don’t you make yourself more comfortable… take your shoes off and make yourself at home.” I tell her with a big smile on my face. I can tell the alcohol is working its way through her system as she follows my suggestion without a word.
“Sssure… take your time,” Isabella says closing her eyes for a moment and unbuttons another button on her blouse. “This is definitely far more enjoyable than walking around knocking on doors trying to make sales.” I caught the slur at the beginning of her sentence. She is buzzed that is for sure.
“I’m glad you knocked on my door. It can get lonely in this house sometimes. You are a breath of fresh air, that is for sure.” I say padding on the compliments.
“Thank you, Kaitlin… I’m happy to be here and I’m enjoying your company. Your home looks simple from the outside but it’s so lavish on the inside.” Isabella declares.
Up until this point I had been the quintessential cordial hostess. I took the opportunity to make a deeper connection with Isabella now that her inhibitions were lowered. “Thank you, sweetie. It’s nothing special but it’s all I need as it has just been me since I moved to this city. I found it while I was looking for an apartment fifteen years ago this year.”
Isabella looked like she was completely relaxed at this point in time. She has almost finished her third glass of alcohol-laced lemonade istanbul travestileri and her body language implied she liked it. “There is no way that you are… in your late thirties…” Isabella says.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Isabella. Truth be told I am just a few weeks shy of my forty-second birthday.” I admit to the object of my affections.
“Nooooooo…” She says in disbelief.
Isabella is very buzzed at this point on her way to being hammered. As such I take away the alcohol as I don’t want her passing out. I then begin the real seduction.
“Oh don’t worry I think I’m almost set on what I want and I will be buying quite a few items from you. You will probably do so well after this that you won’t need to go anywhere else today. Besides, you shouldn’t be working this door-to-door job, with your looks I would say you should be a model.” I had my back to her when I made that last remark so I didn’t see her immediate reaction.
Isabella was sitting pensively on the edge of the couch with her knees together. However the alcohol must have relaxed her as she had her head back on the couch, her skirt was up a bit and her legs were parted so when I walked back into the room I got a good long look at her sexy red lacy panties. From my vantage point, the sheer material allowed me to see her neatly trimmed bush of black hair. As she hasn’t noticed me I look down and say something so she doesn’t suspect that I saw her in this state. As such she pulls her legs together and turns them so it looks like she is sitting side-saddle on a horse. She straightens her skirt as I sat back down and handed her a drink to her. Without looking up at me she took the proffered drink and sipped at it absently then quickly placed it down on the table.
“Remind me, Isabella, why are you selling things door to door again? I was kind of out of it when you arrived and missed your goal. Now that I’m awake again I can see that you don’t seem totally into fundraising if I may say.”
“That’s ok. I am a member of my high school dance team. We are scheduled to go to Daytona Beach for the national Dance Team competition. We have to earn either enough money to cover all or most of the cost of the trip, food, and lodging.”
“Wow… that sounds like fun, the Dance competition that is. So how are you doing in regard to reaching your goal?”
“Not so good. There are so many of us that it’s hard to find customers that other girls on the team haven’t already hit. This was the first area I’ve found that no one has been to and most of your neighbors aren’t very interested.” Isabella tells me.
The young Latina looks very sad at this statement. I wrap my left arm around her for a moment to console her. She leans her head against mine and I hear a slight sniffle. I release her, lest she feels my pounding heart from her close proximity and the sweet smell of her hair.
“Can we change the subject?” She asks.
“Sure… what do you want to do with your life beyond this and school?” Isabella didn’t seem to mind my probing into her life but she was less than thrilled to answer.
“You mentioned I should be a model before,” Isabella said with the slightest trace of a blush. “I’d love to do that. I even went to an agency before taking this job, but they told me I didn’t have the image they were looking for. When I asked them what that was the woman bluntly told me that I was too short, too big-chested and my ass was too bubbly. They said the big-breasted, big-assed Latina look was for pop stars and Men’s magazines, not the fashion world. They gave me a number but I threw it away. I can’t sing and I’m hardly porn star material.”
“That’s such a shame! You’re gorgeous. That woman was more likely some anorexic albino with bleached blonde hair and blue eyes that are a dime a dozen… am I right?” I ask Isabella. Isabella thought about it for a moment and then let out a laugh. She manages to say yes finally and I break into laughter with her (laughter is infectious you know).
“While I know fashion is about the clothes and your assets might be a bit… distracting… the models help sell the look and girl… you could sell ice to Eskimos.”
Isabella blushed at my praise. “Thank you.” She says just above a whisper.
We finally stop laughing and things are quiet for a while and then Isabella says, “When you said I could be distracting… you meant my tits and ass… right?” Isabella nervously asks.
“Sweetie, you are so beautiful your ass is distracting me even with you sitting on it!”
We chatted amiably for a while about this and that, about her studies and my nursing, about her fundraiser and future prospects. Half an hour later I took the plunge and asked her about boys.
“Do you date much?” I ask her.
“No one special,” she sighed. “I’ve been on a few dates, but guys are pretty grope-y. There’s too much expectation. My friends are way more experienced than I am, I’ve slept with like, one guy, but he didn’t seem to know what he was doing. He runted into me for a minute or two travesti istanbul before he blew his load in the condom. My friends told me that I should go out with more experienced guys, several even. But my friends weren’t raised like I was.” Isabella replies.
“So what do your friends get up to,” I asked, sensing that she was being more responsive. “Forgive an old lady like me for asking, but it’s been a while since high school dating for me and it’s nice to live vicariously through something other than Dawson’s Creek once in a while.”
“You are not old!” Isabella states. “I can only hope I am as beautiful as you are when I get to be 42.” She tells me. Isabella ponders my question and then begins.
“Well, I have this one friend, Janice. She’s your A-typical Barbie doll brought to life. we were at a party and she made out with two guys at the same time.”
“At the same time?” I say in mock indignation.
“Yeah… They like, took turns on her right in front of everyone. They left the party together and I don’t know what happened after that. I shudder to think. Oh, and I have these two friends, Stacy and Carly, also both stereotypical blondes. A week ago they both… I can hardly even say it… French kissed each other for two minutes on a dare. I haven’t been able to look at them straight since.”
“Can you tell me what they did for two minutes?” I ask her.
I see hesitation, but then as Isabella described the scene I wondered if she was so buzzed that she forgot that I was blonde myself. In addition to the hair, I had blue eyes and I have been told by some men that because of my height and figure I could pass for a living Barbie doll. My waist was thin, my boobs were a respectable 32D and I had a firm shapely ass (not as big as hers but respectable). I know the kind of girls that Isabella is describing, it’s girls like that that make it hard for girls and women like me to be taken seriously. I let her continue. She mentioned a few other tales but nothing as interesting as her blonde friends.
“Wow… that sounds wilder than Dawson’s Creek. Thanks for sharing.” I thought I’d press her just a little bit. “So Stacy and Carly, are the girl’s girls as well as blonde blondes?”
She looked at me a bit sheepishly. “They say they’re not, but the way they were kissing, I’m not sure… I think they have done it before. I’ve seen them… touching each other sometimes. It looks like nothing, but after that kiss maybe I’m seeing things.” I thought she said she couldn’t look at them after. This girl was becoming something of a blip on my gaydar.
“Sounds like you’ve studied them pretty closely…” I added, trailing off, seeing where she would go.
“Well, it was hard not to look, like passing an automobile accident,” Isabella said, her breathing a little quicker now and a rosy hue touching her caramel-skinned cheeks as she relived the moment her friends kissed each other.
“Why couldn’t you look at them after?” I was staring straight at her now. I was tired, buzzed, horny, intrigued, and now solely intent on wooing little Miss Isabella right out of her panties. She was looking straight ahead, on some level aware of my intense gaze.
“I don’t know, it just made me uncomfortable I guess…” Her chest rose and fell quite deeply. My breath was unconsciously beginning to match hers.
“Uncomfortable why?” I asked innocently but shifted closer so that my barefoot was touching her sock-clad foot. I am absolutely one hundred percent sure she noticed this move. Without moving her head, her eyes surreptitiously focussed on my foot.
As her chest heaves some more Isabella seems to lose the ability to speak. Pressing my advantage I ask, “Is this conversation making you uncomfortable?”
She looked me in the eye at that moment, startled. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” She shook her head no, just savoring the intimacy of my foot caressing hers.
“Tell me, do I bring out the same feelings of uncertainty that you feel when you remember seeing Stacy kissing Carly.” She lowered her eyes, blushing deeply. I was right next to her now. She could feel my breath on her cheek.
“Being aroused isn’t about being comfortable darling,” I whispered in her ear. She shivers at my words and I take that moment to trace my tongue along the edge of her ear lobe. Isabella hisses as my teeth nibble on her ear.
“It’s about being honest with one’s self,” I say leaning in and kissing her cheek.
“It’s about passion,” as I place butterfly kisses on her nose, then her closed eyelids.
“It’s about freely expressing that passion… embracing it!”
At that my soon-to-be lover parts her lips and opens her mouth. I kissed her lips delicately, and she whimpers as she submits to me. My body may be tired but my mind and heart know what it wants as I snake my tongue between her lips and she let out the most delicious sigh. Her eyes are closed and she is returning my affection with as much gusto as I am giving. My hands come up and begin tracing the contours of her breasts. My touch has the desired effect as even through her blouse and bra I can feel her nipples go erect. From the shape, I can tell the nipples are about the size of a half-dollar coin. Her nipples are now straining against her white blouse, and my fingers come up and pinch them earning me a squeal of surprise and delight.
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