Dear Eva and Hanif,
Thank you for a truly wonderful evening on Friday. I loved the band and the impromptu performances from the audience. It is a real treat to experience and be a part of the passion of other peoples’ music and I congratulate you both for bringing such quality and depth to the outer-reaches of this part of the world. Please let me know of any more events you are having as I would really enjoy being part of that intimate gathering once more.
Best wishes
Maddie
Email: mdl@pussydimensions.com
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I walked up the street, along the cobbled stones and posted my card of thanks through the door.
It was past midnight and I had been driven by a sudden urge to do this.
I wanted to be anonymous.
My mind had already been through a hundred scenarios and had weighed up the pros and cons of this and that method, but I had settled on the discrete.
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Hi Maddie,
I’m really grateful for the card. How clever to choose that particular card – it was exquisite. It was a fantastic night, wasn’t it? Really rocked! There were so many people there, I am trying to picture who you are. Please do come in to the café and introduce yourself if you are still in town. If not, then drop me an email at this address. I’d love to chat some more with you – I’m intrigued by your email address!
Looking forward…..
Eva
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Okay, what do I do now? Do I continue to be anonymous or do I just go up there, plonk myself down at the bar and say, “Hello! It’s me!”
The wind was howling and the rain was but a few minutes away. The coldness emptied itself down my back and I was chilled to the very essence of my being, but the email gave me a buzz.
It’s not that I was bereft or alone. Far from it. I was surrounded by people who have been with me for most of my life but I suddenly realised that they may not know me that well, partly because I have not allowed them to.
Yet this stranger, this unknown quantity – well, ironically, I thought she may know me. She may understand.
I grabbed the computer and walked to the café. The owners were not to be seen and a lovely dark haired and wistful youth took my order of coffee and cake.
I sat in the window and looked over the fields beyond. The greenery was breathtaking. It should have been more scorched at this time of year from the power of the sun, but the blessing, if there is one to be had, of such quantities of rain is that the countryside looks vibrant and fulsome, swimming in deep green, inviting you to meander through, following the curved trail of the little brook.
I opened the computer and started to write about what I was seeing. I got carried away in a poetic composition that had a subtle sexual undertone, assimilating valley and stream to the female form, seeing the curvaceous hills as the hips of a voluptuous woman with a river of loveliness desperately seeking to escape.
I was so engrossed that I didn’t notice Eva walk through the door with a bag of change for the till. I didn’t notice her plonk her raincoat on the floor and release her wealth of hair from the pashmina that was draped as her protector. I didn’t hear her exasperated moans and her exaggerated pleas for the warmth of a hot drink. I didn’t even notice her looking over at me, absorbing the recognition, tuning her mind back to the collection of faces in the audience and thinking that this could be the card-writer.
And I certainly didn’t notice her as she casually walked across the wooden floor and stood beside me looking out at the view.
Eventually, that instinctual mechanism kicked in. It is interesting to me how you can be in close proximity to some people and remain oblivious to their presence. Yet, sometimes, there must be an electrical force that is gathering because within an instant, where the proximity has edged a millimetre further into the consciousness, you look up and are absolutely conscious of another being, even if you cannot see them.
I looked up and smiled at the figure smiling at me.
“Maddie?” she enquired.
I stood and extended a hand to hers, which she took and pulled me towards her for a European greeting of double cheek kiss.
“Wow, how did you know it was me?” I asked.
“Easy” she said. “I’ve been asking every good looking woman who has come into the café alone if she is Maddie, just in case I missed you!” She rolled her eyes and arched her back in slightly unnecessary laughter.
“Seriously” she said as she took a seat to my right hand side, “I recognised you instantly. I remembered your face from the other night, even though I was half cut on a vodka or two too many. I thought it would be you. Very pleased to meet you!”
“Likewise”, I responded and returned a genuine and relaxed smile.
“So what are you writing and has it got anything to do with that magnificent domain name on your email? I am most intrigued!”
I slightly lowered the hood of the lap top in that instinctual and over protective way I have. I’m not used to people wanting to look at my work. I am far less used to being prepared to share my work and I saw Eva’s slight alarm at my coyness.
I explained that I would love to show her my work but it wasn’t quite finished. Would she mind if I gave her the opportunity the minute it was done as I would really like her to look at this piece of work. I smiled again, hoping upon hope that I hadn’t offended or put her off.
She placed an extended palm over my hand and said, “Of course! Us artists have to stick together and respect one another’s wishes but I am looking forward to reading this”.
In my usual modest manner, I informed her that I was merely an amateur writer who essentially wrote for her own wellbeing. She instantly agreed and said that is how she had felt about singing. It wasn’t really for anyone else, even though she did get a major adrenalin rush from being listened to and the performing in its own right. I agreed and told her I could totally empathise with that. When my writing is shared and is appreciated, I have this surge of natural high, I explained.
Eva jumped a little on her seat. “Natural highs!” she whooped. “Natural highs are the best! Only enlightened people talk about natural highs! Have you ever performed, acted, sang, read your work aloud?”
We then got embroiled in a conversation about my singing, my learned instrument playing, my public speaking and she listened in engrossed silence, carefully nodding in the appropriate places, maintaining eye contact at all times, asking pertinent questions and agreeing with the feelings and thoughts I was offering.
We talked about photography and drawing, about the beauty of simplicity and the wonderment of passion.
We talked for ages and I felt that there was an incredible and powerful bond developing, even in these short and explorative discussions and themes.
“You’ve got passion!” she suddenly announced. “I like that in a woman!”
“I do have passion” I responded, “but I’m not sure I have gift to accompany that passion”.
“I suspect you are being too modest Maddie but perfection and brilliance is nothing if there is no passion. You know that!”
“I do!”
“Then show me your writing, unfinished and raw. Let me feel it. Or show me some of your photographs. You have explained your love of photography which totally mirrors my own thoughts on why I take a camera out and about wherever I am”.
I click a few buttons on the computer and bring up some “Water” themed photographs that I took some time ago. I sidled the computer around to her so that she could control the speed of the slideshow.
She placed her elbows on the table and watched in a mesmerised state, looking at every detail of the captured shots. She said nothing.
I turned away, looking out on the greenery once more. Instinctively, I returned my gaze to the voyeur, just as she completed the cycle. Her eyes had taken on the theme and little formations of glistening moisture filled in the corners. She took my hand and said softly, “You’ve got it – the passion and the gift”.
Without a word more being said, I retrieved the laptop, hunting for the unfinished poem. Again, I turned the machine towards her, saying nothing.
Verde, veni, the hills beyond, fulsome in passion and being.
Spurting in brilliance, erupting with life, the hills meander downstream.
The curves of the vales, the strength of their sides
The existence of all humankind
Breaks forth from the womb of the valley of man
And a child has hope in his mind.
But what of the hills when creation is done?
Where does the river run then?
What hope for the woman who bore of the child?
Where is that moment of Zen?
It’s here, dear friend, in the soul of my being, in the stunning and in the unknown.
And it’s time to declare that life is not done and the river, it just wants to flow.
The hills propel forward, they move with a touch
An appreciation for all that they are.
And the legs unfold as the waters increase
And the flowing fulfilment is near.
With a glimmer of hope and a passionate kiss
The hills, they clamour for lust.
And the vulva explodes and the delta decides
That the time for procrastination is lost.
She sings the song loudly with passion and grace, with a beauty as strong as the hills
She opens her thighs,, inviting the touch, and the river contentedly spills.
I am overtaken by a moment of panic as she reads the penultimate line and I desperately resist the urge to snatch the laptop away from her and flee from the building.
In my terror, I barely notice her besides me.
“Fuck” spills from her mouth with an over-emphasis on the vowel and a softening of the completeness of the last consonants.
She throws her arms around me, in a manner that others in the café would merely interpret as a collegiate gesture and she goes to kiss me near my ear.
Only she doesn’t just brush me a quick kiss. She lingers, holding me tight and whispers in my ear.
“Fuck” Again, soft and drawn out. “Fuck me now?” followed by a swift and significant tongue trickling over the lobes of my ear and a gentle yet urgent nibble.
My inner thighs are burning. Like a kettle boiling, I can feel my cunt increasing in size and bellowing in a need to be touched.
Eva leant back, picked up the cup and drank the remnants of her coffee.
As though the last words were unspoken, she said, somewhat louder, “Come upstairs. Those photos are brilliant Maddie and now I want to show you mine!” She said it with such force, such careful disguise of the double entendre that nobody overhearing would have known.
I closed the computer down as she removed our crockery and explained to the wistful one that she was going upstairs.
I followed her as we climbed a narrow staircase into a sumptuous room, overlooking the same hills and river. She took my hand and led me to the large bay window, then turned me, hands now on my shoulders to look out of the glass and onto that mound of green.
She smoothed her hands from my shoulders down the arms and I could feel the hairs beginning to spout up in response to her subtle manoeuvre over my pores. On reaching my hands, she stopped and grasped them hard, squeezing them and then burying her head in my neck.
I turned around and she smiled. We held hands some more, just drinking in each other’s eagerness and anticipation, and then she released me and whipped her top off, cascading her tasty and perfectly proportioned tits towards my awaiting self. As I did the same, she smiled once more and stopped me from removing my bra. Her nipples were erect and I longed to have them in my mouth. I longed to suck them whilst she played with her fanny.
But Eva was going to make me wait. She placed her palms over my tits and clutched them hard.
“I like!” she announced and arched her back once more in far from unnecessary laughter.
She removed my bra by pushing the straps down to the mainstay of the clothing and whooped with delight at their size. She tweaked at my nipple and then reached behind to unclip my bra, sending the full extent of my boobs bouncing out in their fullness.
She stepped back and removed her skirt, and I was mesmerised and extremely turned on to find that she had no knickers on.
She smiled once more at my recognition of another’s sexuality, and reached down to open her labia, looking first at herself and what she could feel, and then up at me as I feasted my eyes on the brilliant bush in front of me. Inserting her finger deep inside, she moaned a little at her arousal. She then removed her finger, and placed her elegant digit in front of my mouth, raising her eyes in question and invitation.
I opened my mouth slightly, with a viciously lustful grin and she thrust her finger into my mouth so I could wrap my tongue around it, tasting her loveliness.
She undid my trousers, and swiftly plunged her hand into my panties, feeling the softness of my pubes. Taking both hands to my knickers, she pulled them away from me and instantly returned them to my inner legs to feel the giveaway signs of moisture that was collecting there.
“This is the ultimate passion!” she cried and we embraced in a fervent kiss, tonguing each other and deliberately forcing our bushes into one another.
She reached down once more and felt for my bulging clitoris. It was hard and susceptible to the merest of touches.
Concerned all of a sudden about my ability to gush and the rather expensive looking rug below me, I retracted slightly and held back, to the best of my abilities, the watery cum that was filling my entire cunt. She pulled her hand away and pulled my hand to her cunt, again siding her labia apart and nodding at me to plunge my fingers into her pussy.
“Is this something to do with pussy dimensions dot com?” she asked.
“Mmmm”, I responded “but talk about that is for later” as I knelt down and allowed my tongue to follow my fingers into this divinity.
She didn’t cum and I was beginning to be concerned about her lack of gushing and my desperate need to. I leant back and she too knelt down and then pushed me onto my back, angling my legs apart and dived into my pussy. I was moaning and containing myself and eventually I screamed at her that I wanted to cum.
“Then cum, passionate one!” she said.
“But when I cum, I cum rather violently, rather wetly!” I responded.
“Of course you do!” she said. “You have that gift in abundance, I can tell”.
“Spunk your stuff all over me. Fucking spill it on my pubes. Drench me with your sex, Maddie!”
And at that she plunged deep towards my G-Spot and I erupted an incredible climax all over her tits that were wobbling away just at the point of ejaculation.
Elated, I lay there surging more juices out of me onto the luxurious mat.
She stood up, straddled her legs either side of my waist and wanked for a short second or two. Then she dramatically released her fingers and a mass of fuck juices washed over me. She crouched over my pubes and nodded to me, so that I would put my fingers once more in her cunt.
In doing this she came some more, soaking my pubes and igniting more cum in me.
She proceeded to lick her own juices off my pubes, sliding her tongue up and down, setting yet another cascade of cum from my cunt.
We were both soaked and we lay down once more on the rug, rolling over, licking each other’s body, sucking and stroking each other’s nipples.
Blonde hair was intertwined. Kisses were forceful and urgent. I grabbed her hand and asked her to fuck me hard, which she obligingly did. She came once more without a single touch, excited by the fact that I was responding so ecstatically to her fingers inside me.
For half an hour, we fucked and fucked some more. She joked that there were no juices left but then reminded herself that she had not yet experienced such dryness and she was sure it wasn’t about to start now.
Knackered and satisfied, we stood up and she took me by the hand into her bedroom and invited me in. We embraced and dozed in each other’s arms.
“Are you a lesbian?” she asked me
“No” I responded. “I am hungry for cock. As beautiful and incredible as this has been, my first love is a cock”
“Me too!” she said. “Though I have to say, that was pretty damn good and it would be a close call. I’d rather have your cummy cunt than many of the cocks that I have fucked over the years”.
And with that she dived under the covers and licked my essential parts to yet more satisfaction.
“I’ve never been with a woman who spunked as much as me!” she laughed.
As ever, I apologised which she admonished me about, and as if to prove she meant it, she then rubbed herself slightly and gushed straight onto the pool of cum that I had placed on the mattress.
“Do you want some cock now?” she asked.
“I’m content as I am but I wouldn’t say no”.
“You have a lover?”
“Yes”, I responded, “but he’s not with me right now.”
“Then you need some cock” she said, “and when I am without my lover in a strange town, maybe you could return the favour?”
At that she reached for her phone and texted her lover. She showed me the text and we giggled, waiting for the sound of manly footsteps on the stairs.
“Fucking blond brilliance upstairs. Get your cock ready and join us. NOW. Passionate pussies need penis”
He wandered into the bedroom as we were lying on our backs with our hands crossed over, subtly stroking one another’s bush. He pulled back the duvet and watched us, then simply whipped his trousers and knickers down, holding his substantial cock in his hand as he wanked it to its hardest state.
“Eva?” he said.
“No, fuck Maddie first!” and at that he wedged his dick deep into my cunt as Eva, got on all fours and licked up the juices that were coming out of me, channelling her head around his arse as he fucked me hard. He turned round to kiss her as he jammed me once more, and then gently and sweetly kissed me too.
I moved over and fed his cock into my newfound friend’s cunt and simply watched as they fucked happily, smiling at one another and both simultaneously reaching out for my tit and cunt as they rode away.
He then withdrew from her, lay me down on my back next to her, and pumped himself to ejaculation, squirting sticky, warm seamen over us both.
At that, he smiled and left us to it.
“So tell me about pussy dimensions” she said.
“I don’t think that is necessary”, I said. “I think you have probably just got the gist and I am not sure that you need the service that I offer for awakening womens’ sexuality!”
“I want to hear anyway” she said.
And so I started to unveil my plans for a sexually enlightened world.
To be continued
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