With wings upon her back, confidence boosting her even beyond the clouds, there was nothing stopping Tulia from doing exactly what she wanted today.
So who could be surprised that she drove home to take an amazing bath?
Fragrant candles of lavender melting on each corner of the tub, white crackling bubbles foaming over the edge, gentle jazz music cycling from her favourite vinyl, and a bowl of little chocolates and nuts by the side. Had she died and gone to heaven? Possibly, because there was nothing on Earth she thought could bring her more pleasure than being right here. She would stay until the steaming water lost every essence of its warmth, the step out chilly on her slick nude skin.
She paused only for a moment in the mirror, not a fan of checking herself in the mirror but simply having to pause when she caught her reflection. Was her chest bigger? She supposed she hadn’t really given her whole naked body a good look over in a while, but her breasts truly looked more full. A quick check of her waist and hips, then a number on the scale just made her smile though; she hadn’t gained any weight. Perhaps she just wasn’t as flat-chested as she negatively perceived before, her new confidence giving her a more positive body image.
After this bath, it somehow got better, as she was making her favourite kind of stir-fry, the kind with peanut sauce and beyond reasonable amount of jumbo shrimp. She even hummed and swung her hips as Tulia made the kitchen of her bachelor apartment spotless once more.
Finally, she sat down on her couch, in her favourite silk pyjama top and furry pink socks which stretched up nearly to her knees, white towel on head. She wasn’t sure what movie on Netflix she was going to choose, but she was already sure it was going to be a great one simply because she had a bowl of marshmallows beside her. She merely had to turn the TV on now.
“And this is the problem with university today.” An all too familiar blonde was letting out a diatribe of finger waving at her audience through the camera. “A bunch of limp-wristed liberal men telling us to tiptoe around every topic without teaching the future generations how the world actually functions.” She put her arms up in outrage, a blouse button snapping a bit to expose more of her trademark bra. “Look people! Santa’s white! Women should be mothers! And let me tell you the most important truth.” She leaned real close. “America is the greatest country ever!” She pinched her ear, a little buzz coming out. “Sorry. Canada is the greatest country which ever existed!” She huffed and tightened her papers together. “This is Marisa Mills and we’ll be back in a moment.”
Tulia shook her head at the broadcast, fingers coiled on her chin as she leaned in. Before, she had found Marisa’s broadcasts to be merely unpleasant, but now after having that brief but emphatic meeting this afternoon, she found the hypocritical words spewing from those bloated lips loathsome.
The memories of the reception replayed in her mind and Tulia went to playing with hair behind her ear. She could still feel the blonde’s hot breath on her face, the fishy smell on each exhale. Suddenly her mind was reminded of what she had been told before entering Aina’s office. Something about sexual nirvana and submitting. Could the therapist really offer such services?
She played with her hair a bit more, going over what the blonde whispered to her a bit more before smiling. She was choosing not to focus on that, and more on the positive stuff. Aina seemed like the coolest women ever, so she probably did do some kinky stuff on the side, but could surely stay professional for Tulia.
Aina. She almost sighed at that name. Tulia was still flying high from her session, but she wondered if she could ever have the sexy confidence and grace of her new friend. Just imagining the Latina caused her fingers to flutter near both ears, going back and forth in a fury. There were butterflies in her stomach, and frankly her legs were squirming. She felt something positively high school about her infatuation about this woman, and it honestly made her a bit uneasy, like she’d found her one weakness.
Looking over her shoulders left and right, she thought of a way to distract herself and since she lived alone, why not be a bit naughty on the couch? She bit her lower lip, throwing the towel from over her bare legs and crept her fingers below her pyjama shirt.
Her probing finger found herself already surprisingly wet, thinking more about her session than she would care to admit. She closed her eyes and thought about herself, a hand at her chest. In her mind, she was wearing the same outfit as in the reception, that big sweater and long yellow skirt. She shook her head. If she was going to fantasize, she would certainly dress sexier than that.
Instantly, she found her desires fulfilled. Her mind was looking at her reflection of her ideal sexually confident self. Makeup to make her face doll-like, hair shiny and smooth to the touch, her head was straight out of glamour magazine. Better yet, she had on a really cute and sexy black and white dress on that she remembered from those beautiful women from the job interview before, except she was in it and looking fantastic. Though she had to admit her imagination was being a bit too kind to her bust, as perhaps she had noticed larger breasts before, but no push-up bra could give her that deep of cleavage.
The pink heels might have been a bit much, but all around Tulia was proud of her imagination cooking this up. However, this burst of sensual images stepped up its game when she grabbed her previously plain self in for a kiss. She would have opened her eyes in shock if it wasn’t so naughtily erotic. Her own lips making out with each other? She supposed it was the perfect masturbatory subject, making love with herself, but it was amazingly foreign for her. Yet, she could feel how wet it was making her, so she decided not to question it.
The vividness of her own body ravishing her was sending fireworks up her spine. She swore that she could sense how her lips felt against her neck and bare shoulder as her double took off more and more of her plain outfit. A little tickle with her nails, the pinching of her nipples by those beautiful fingers, completely unbitten. Her actual body on the couch twisted as her fingers jogged inside, slight perspiration forming on her forehead, lips gasping.
“You naughty girl.” She quietly mouthed as she pushed her digits deeper, dancing upon the bulbous pleasure spot inside her moist lips faster and faster, a mere waltz turning to a vigorous swing. She saw so clearly her made-up face going down on her, feeling a tongue so impossibly deep match the motions of her fingers, feeling her own soft touch grip and hold down her thighs. She locked eyes with herself and convulsed. She looked so hot and confident with darker eye makeup, loving the aggressive self-assured gaze from her own face. This was the woman she wanted to be, the one that took what she wanted, when she wanted.
Her hand moved from her perked nipples to pet the head between her legs, to press her closer. Again she could feel her own glossy mane, stroke it like it was as real as the bowl of marshmallows beside her. She gave another short gasp, feeling light-headed as her thighs clenched tighter and tighter.
Almost working on autopilot, Tulia’ imagination thought of something naughtier and hotter to get her over the edge. Beyond her own lapping face in her crotch, a pair of black heels and leggings was sitting in a beige lounger, face obscured by shadows but clearly intently observing the clone-coitus. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip hard, as she focused more and more on this watching woman. Her shadowy form became less and less obscured as she became closer and closer to cumming like a wrecking ball. Her black leather pencil skirt contained some wonderfully thick hips and thighs, and those legs parted to reveal a shaved moist pussy, free of the constraints of any panties. A glass of red wine swirled in a hand which looked powerful but with feminine nails and curve as the other hand unbuttoned a blouse to reveal bursting brown cleavage.
Anything above the shoulders was obscured, but it finally became obvious to Tulia who this was. It was Aina, or at least a Latin woman of equal sexual confidence and beauty, that she was playing for, and the green eyes were intently watching every tiny convulsion that the Asians made. In response though, Tulia’s self-pleasure only became more dramatic, her moans and short cries now echoing in the apartment as her hotter self raised her round butt to demonstrate to their audience that she was fingering her clit furiously as she ate out.
And those green eyes were the final image Tulia saw before her eyes rocketed open.
“Ahhhhh YES!”
She screamed and clenched her whole body around her fingers, a large damp spot forming around her towel as she shockingly squirted a bit upon climax. She was neither a screamer nor a squirter, but there was no denying such sexual evidence pointed directly back at her panting and sweaty body. There were blotchy stars circling around her head as her fingers just lay limp inside her.
Had she ever had an orgasm that powerful? Certainly not from her own fingers before, and she didn’t have a lot of shame to admit that it had been better than sex. Her mind raced over the fact that she had such a kinky fantasy with Aina involved, and had a moment of exhausted clarity on whether she had something to do with such a powerful orgasm.
A hand adjusted some loose sweat damp locks behind her ear and she smiled. She couldn’t be concerned with such questions when she was in this wonderfully satisfying afterglow, actually considering round two before the commercial break came to a sudden stop.
“And we’re back!” The perky blonde with the garbage tone may have lost another button on her blouse, the camera practically diving down her tanned tits, but she hadn’t lost energy from her ‘just crusade’. “If you’re just joining us, we were engaging with limp-wristed liberal culture and what it has done to manhood in the 21st century.”
Tulia rolled her eyes as pictures of John Wayne and World War II marines appeared behind Marisa Mills on that giant screen. What Tulia wouldn’t do right now to have done something in that reception this morning. She could have clawed that racist’s eyes out or perhaps say something really mean right to those fake-balloon she called tits.
“Bitch…” She let slip from her mouth, each side of her lips immediately grinning. Tulia found herself not programmed for such vulgar language usually, but it was such a relieving word when it came out. “What a stupid bitch…” Her smile grew as Marisa pointed at a picture of a Canadian flag.
“And if this country had been founded by such spineless freaks, men who allow the gay agenda to-”
*DING*
Marisa’s tablet computer whistled a tone and a subtle swipe made her check what is was mid-rant. “Look men, the real men who are watching, let me tell you what women want. Women want….” She trailed off to awkward silence as her ruby lips mouthed off some words she read her tablet.
From her sweaty spot on the couch, Tulia saw along with thousands of other viewers the glaze which paved over each of Mrs. Mills pupils. Her mouth refused to close all the way as she stared at the screen for a painfully long three seconds. Then, she took a earbud from her ear and turned to the camera.
“Ignore everything I just said.” Her voice was without energy, with each syllable emphasized in a manner unfitting for the perky blonde. “Men can do whatever they want. I don’t care how they treat a lady. All I care about is how women treat women after all.” She looked down at her hands and gulped. With shaking fingers, she pulled off her wedding band and placed it delicately so on the desk. “I’m coming out of the closet today. I don’t like men, only women. I’m a 100% lesbian and I love being one. My marriage is a sham and I don’t want to live with a man any more.”
Tulia could barely chew the marshmallows in her mouth as she hung onto every word.
Marisa’s head twitched a bit as she gave a wide smile, energy slowly returning. “But there’s some good news! I’m back on the market ladies! So if you’ve got some big tits, nice hips and a tasty pussy than I want to just eat your-”
*BEEEEEEP*
Predictably the feed was pulled upon the mention of one of the seven dirty words never said on television, and Tulia was sure many viewers scratching their heads, but not her. Perhaps she should have been more concerned by the realization that somehow Aina had programmed her to say such things, but she just couldn’t stop smiling and shaking her head in amazement. Marisa was a mean hypocrite and Tulia thought she had deserved every moment of that pitch perfect humiliation.
Finally, she rose to her feet and stretched out. Aina wouldn’t do that to her of course, Tulia was a humble girl and not deserving of such a cruel fate. She walked over to her humble beige bedroom and looked herself in the mirror. She gripped her breasts again and let them bounce under her pyjama shirt. They were definitely feeling fuller even if they weren’t literally so, the tingling between her legs growing stronger.
“Fuck the movie…” The vulgarity almost tingled from her lips as she giggled, knowing exactly what she wanted to be doing in her bedroom. She turned to her bookshelf and reached behind some of her dusty self-help books to get a rag covering a blue rubber phallus. She hadn’t remember the last time she was so excited to use this vibrator, not even needing a drop of lubricant tonight.
As she rested the edge against her lower lips, body bent over the edge of her bed, she instantly thought about her appointment tomorrow. Walking smiling into that reception without any of that previous anxiety like last time, she would make sure she looked damned good. Her eyes scanned over to her open closet as she worked the vibrating silicon in and out of her. As she bit her lower lip, she imagined the perfect outfit for tomorrow, fantasizing about the sexiest and most confident thing possible.
Of course the most confident thing for her to do would be to wear nothing when entering that office. She was honestly aroused at such a silly idea, laying on that couch in her naked glory, chatting up Aina about her high school as the gorgeous Latina could soak in her thin body. Maybe even Aina would take off her clothes, leaving them both naked in that relaxing office.
“Ooo~” She grunted as she worked her toy even harder into her. Of course, the more confident thing is to show off more with less, as the expression goes, but what outfit would properly advertise her confidence? She dropped the toy out of her momentarily, the moist vibrator wobbling on the carpet as she fumbled a hand into her carpet. Her mind raced on what she could show off to Aina tomorrow, one hand still twitching fingers in her moist crotch as she excitedly pulled out examples of sexy and confident outfits, the few that she had, and placed them on the bed to choose.
Fri May 04 07:37:14 2018
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2 comments Last updated: Fri May 4 19:43:01 2018