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I felt warm. I opened my eyes and looked around. The windows were full of sunlight and I was wrapped in a comforter on the couch. I sat up. I was naked and a shower was running. “What happened? Where was I?” I thought.

A fleshy ten-inch dildo was on the end table–Annette’s apartment!

I began to recall the morning’s activities. I stood and stretched to the ceiling. Annette made love to me, licked me. I reached down and cupped my pussy. I moaned low at the memory. I walked into the kitchen. Croissants, rolls were on the table. Dan! I quickly looked around the room, threw my hands over my tits, covering myself. Where was Dan? I ran over to the couch, grabbed my robe and threw it on.

I sighed. Why did I care? Dan had just watched his girlfriend lick me to orgasm right in front of him. I shook my head. I just wasn’t used to all this…this open-ness. I had always treated sex like it was something you should keep out of sight. My Mom had always told me that sex was something special and private. In the dark, with a locked door between you and your husband and no one else!

I sat down and picked up the dildo. It was still sticky-oily from this morning. It shook like a long piece of Jell-O. I laughed.

The shower shut off. I got up and knocked. “Hi, it’s Debbie,” I said. The door opened, it was Annette, still dripping.

“You’re up, huh?” she said and turned away to get a towel, “You better get in here. We gotta hit the road.”

“What happened to Dan?” I asked.

“He left a couple minutes ago,” she said toweling her hair dry, “I got him cleaned up and off for work.”

Annette tucked the towel around her, pushed the door open and said, “Come on! We’ve got to move.” She untied my robe and pushed it off my shoulders, it caught on my arms. Annette looked me up and down. Her hands squeezed my boobs together. My nipples hardened. She smiled at me. “You still look scrumptious, Deb. I don’t know why it took me so long to see that,” she said lowly. She kissed me lightly on the mouth, just a peck and then swatted my ass. “Now get in there. It’s ten o’clock already,” she commanded.

I took my shower quickly, toweled off and brushed my hair. Annette came in and started doing her makeup. As I got dressed, I thought about our last trip to Mexico. It had been at least a year since we had been to Ensenada and I was eager to see it again. I slipped on my shorts, put on my favorite Hawaiian shirt and jumped in my sandals.

I put the last few items in my beach bag. Annette came in the bathroom and grabbed me. “You look great!” she said.

“Thanks, girlfriend,” I answered. Since yesterday, that phrase had taken on a new meaning. She smiled.

“Everything’s in the car, ‘cept you,” she said, “Let’s hit it.”

We jumped into Annette’s blue Miata and put the top down. Annette had put all of the croissants that Dan brought in a basket behind the seat along with a couple bottled waters. She turned on KROQ and zoomed out of the parking lot towards the freeway.

The day was gorgeous, a typical spring day in Southern California; “So Cal” for us locals. No wind, blue skies, no humidity and the sun just beamed down on us. We both had our hair tied back for the wind and Annette, always the fashion plate, had tied hers with a white scarf. She had these huge black sunglasses on, a short denim skirt, white tank and a red and orange floral blouse tied over that. She looked like a movie star. I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she yelled over the motor.

“You look like Thelma from ‘Thelma & Louise,'” I said.

She smiled, reached down and adjusted her seat back. She stretched out her long, tanned legs, flooring the little sports car up the on-ramp. There wasn’t hardly any traffic, really unusual for a weekend. Annette pulled a bottle from behind the seat and handed it to me, sunscreen.

She pointed down. “Do my legs, okay?”

I opened the top and squeezed a generous amount of the white goo into my hand. Annette’s legs are a sight to behold, very long, very lean-sculpted, would be a better word. She used to run track for the girl’s team in high school, but had stopped what she called all her ‘jock nonsense’ a couple years ago. But she still ran almost every day.

I leaned over and rubbed my oily hands along her right leg. Annette moved her legs apart.

“Just a sec,” she yelled and she lifted her butt off of the seat and pulled the bottom of her skirt up to her waist, “Don’t wanna get it greasy.” Her light, turquoise-blue panties left open to the air.

I finished her thigh quickly, but had to get down on my elbows to reach her lower leg. I sat up to get some more lotion. Annette smiled.

“What?” I said.

“I like this,” she answered, “It’s like having a maid or something.”

“Maid?” I yelled.

“Or something,” she said seductively, “Your hands feel very good.”

I smiled and leaned across her lap applying the lotion to her other thigh. I took my time this time. I slowly worked my hands over the outside of her thigh down to her knee then slowly applied the lotion up the inside of her thigh. I rubbed it in little circles over her muscles, making it more of a massage than Demetevler Escort anything else. I grabbed the lotion and squirted some more in my hands and I started on her other leg again.

“Hey, you already did that one,” she said. I continued my massage of her leg.

“Want me to stop?” I asked as I kneaded her muscular thigh in tight little circles.

“No, no, you’re doin’ great,” she moaned.

As I rubbed higher along her inner thigh this time, I began a really deep massage. I turned my fingers slowly, pressing deeply into the flesh. I was right next to her pussy, pressing with all the strength my fingers could muster. Annette flexed her hips forward driving her pussy onto my knuckles. I backed off for a moment.

“You okay?” I asked raising my eyebrows, “Was that too rough?”

“No, no, feels good,” she said, “I didn’t realized how tight I was from yesterday.”

I grabbed her about mid-thigh and started massaging again. Her panties now had a tiny damp spot. This was getting to her. I chuckled and continued with my fingers. I quietly turned my head. Her boobs were inches from my face. Her long nipples pressed hard against the tight tank top, no bra as usual. I had a nasty idea. I slid my hands to the top of her thigh and pressed my hand into her pussy as I massaged her thigh. Annette jumped a little.

“Oh!” she yelped, “Debbie, I don’t know how good an idea this is.” I sat up.

“It’ll be fine,” I said with a smirk, “Just keep your eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel.”

I sat back against the seat and looked around us. Just a few cars and none too close. No big trucks to worry about. I put sunscreen on my arms, legs and neck then pulled a tissue out of the glove box to get my hands free of the oil.

I leaned towards Annette and lightly brushed my left hand along her inner right thigh. She glanced down at what I was doing, looked back at the highway and licked her lips. I put my hand over her crotch and lightly traced the front of her panties with my fingertips. Annette let out a long breath of air and smiled, glancing at me from behind her sunglasses. I pressed my fingers flat against her panties letting my middle finger ride a little deeper. Annette sucked some air in quickly. It was like putting my hand on a heated pillow. I started massaging her pussy in slow little circles.

I looked at the speedometer. It read 60 M.P.H. Annette’s nipples poked out invitingly, begging to be touched. Her panties were wet. Subconsciously, I had started rubbing my own leg with my right hand. I could feel my nipples hardening. Little goosebumps appeared on my arms, the little hairs standing on end.

Annette started moving her hips around a little trying to press against my hand when I pressed against her.

“Getting excited?” I teased.

She bit her lower lip and moaned, “You know I am.” She glanced at me again.

“Is it too much? Should I stop?” I asked grinning.

“No, it’s okay,” she replied. I pushed her skirt up against her belly with my left hand and pressed downward. My fingers slipped into her panties.

I leaned into her ear and moaned, “My, my…you’re dripping wet.” I slid my fingers down and opened her lips. I pressed my middle finger down and slowly outlined the opening to her vagina.

“Oh yeah,” she sighed. I looked up at the speedometer. It read 80 m.p.h.

“Slow down a little, Annette. You’re going too fast,” I said.

She laughed, “I’m going too fast?”

“We don’t want to arouse suspicion, do we?” I asked.

“Yeah. Okay. Uh…no, no, we don’t,” she stuttered. She leaned over and clicked a switch near the steering wheel and lifted her foot off the accelerator. “I knew cruise control was good for something,” she said with a smile. I giggled.

I began again. I brushed my fingers over the downy hairs along her lips a few times, waiting on her mouth to open. She started breathing a little heavier and I slipped a finger between her lips again sliding against the wetness there, feeling the soft little folds of skin. I moved my fingers up higher and slipped the end of my middle finger underneath her clit. Gently, slowly I started moving just the end of my finger up and down her clit. She lubricated so much, it felt like I had dipped my fingers in olive oil. Annette moaned and closed her eyes for a moment. I watched the road.

“That feels so good, Deb. It feels almost like your tongue,” she sighed. Her hips rocked trying to keep contact with my finger. With my other hand, I unsnapped my shorts and pulled the zipper down. A car drove by to our left, full of people, a bunch of guys out for the weekend. One guy in the back seat scoped us out. I waved.

“What are you doing?” Annette yelled. She pulled my hand out of her panties and smoothed her skirt down.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. ‘Just trying to be casual,” I said nervously.

The car full of guys kept going. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” said Annette.

Embarrassed, I started buttoning my pants.

“Not yet,” said Annette.

“What?” I said surprised.

“You do it,” she said, “I want Otele Gelen Escort to watch you do it.”

I looked at her questioning. She nodded furtively. Relieved, I smiled, almost laughed. She wanted a show.

“Right here? Right now?” I said.

She nodded, “Yes, do it. Do it for me.” She looked down at my body and smiled.

“Keep a good watch out, okay?” I asked and slid down as deep into the seat as I could. Annette took a quick look around and glanced back at me.

I pushed my shorts over my knees, let them drop to the floorboard and stepped out of them. Annette stole little glances at me. I pushed my sunglasses down so I could see Annette better and started unbuttoning the top buttons of my blouse. I pulled my blouse open flashing my tits one at a time, teasing her. She laughed. I held it open over the left and grabbed my boob with my other hand. I lifted it to my face and licked the nipple, moaning. Annette giggled.

“You are such a slut,” she blurted.

I stuck out my lower lip and pouted, “But do you like me being your slut?” I stuck two fingers of my right hand in my mouth and got them really wet. Annette watched.

“You are my nasty girl, aren’t you?” she smiled.

I pulled the wet fingers out of my mouth, “Uh-huh, I’m all yours, baby.”

Some saliva ran down the palms of my hand. I pulled open the top of my panties. The breeze danced inside and felt cool against my tuft of hair. Annette quickly looked back up at the traffic and swerved.

“Careful, I wouldn’t want to explain this to the cops,” I said. I pulled my panties aside and ran my wet fingers along the lips of my pussy. I closed my eyes and moaned. My fingers felt good. I was so wet already that my outer lips opened easily. I lifted my knees up against the dashboard and buried a finger deep inside my pussy. I slid it out slowly and pushed it home again. I grunted. Visions of Annette between my legs from this morning danced in front of me. Her blue eyes watching me, her lips covered with my wetness.

I felt a trickle of sweat run down my belly. It was getting really hot in the car. I stole a glance at her. Her eyes were watching my fingers more than watching the road. I wet my fingers again, pulled back the skin over my clit and started making little circles around it. I moaned louder. “Oh yeah, that feels good,” I whispered slowly. A long cool breath escaped my pursed lips.

I closed my eyes again and there was Annette licking my clit. I rocked my hips against her imagined face. The finger sunk deeply inside me again stroking my favorite spot. “Ooh yeah,” I purred. I felt fingers on my left boob. I opened my eyes. Annette started pinching my nipple hard, twisting it. “Harder,” I said. She dug her nails into it. I almost screamed, I moaned so loud. Little electric shocks flew to my pussy from my nipple.

“Like that?” asked Annette.

“Just like that. Keep pinching them,” I said. Annette’s hand moved to my other breast and squeezed it. The sensation was too much. I started slapping my palm against my crotch. My pussy must be dripping on the seat. I was getting close. I put another finger inside. My tightness increased, the walls slowly giving way to the newness of another intruder. I was rubbing my clit fiercely now. The Annette behind my eyes was locked to my clit and staring blue pools of desire right through me. “Yeah, here I cum,” I thought.

Suddenly, Annette’s hand rocked me. It grabbed my shoulder and shook hard. “Stop! Stop it! Cover up, quick!” she said. I opened my eyes. We were surrounded by the tall buildings of downtown San Diego. People were everywhere on the sidewalks. I pulled my panties closed and buttoned my blouse. I sat up. There was a wall of traffic just ahead. The Miata slowed as Annette downshifted quickly.

“Shit!” I yelled, “How about a better warning?”

I reached down for my shorts and too hurriedly tried to get my feet in them. It took me three tries, but I finally got them slid up over my butt and buttoned just as we sidled up to an eighteen-wheeler on my side of the car. I looked at Annette. She was leaning on the door, trying to look casual. A young guy at the wheel leaned out the window and checked us out. We sat there tight-lipped for a moment longer, then we busted up laughing.

Fifteen minutes later, we crossed the border into Tijuana and took the highway south along the coast. An hour down the coast, we pulled into Ensenada. The bay was a beautiful blue. We stopped by and picked up a couple of burgers while visiting ‘La Bufadora’, a huge blowhole near the ocean. Clear sets of swells approached the point from the south. The first swell peeled straight left like a banana, clearly, an amazing day for surf.

I took a bite of my fries. “So, what’s the plan today?” I asked taking another bite, “Are we going to the main drag like last year?”

“I thought we’d start there. A woman, who works at my Dad’s place told me about a little shop we have to visit just off the Boulevard, called Linda’s. It’s supposed to have this amazing selection of clothes,” she answered.

“Then what?” I asked.

“What do Balgat Escort you want to do?” said Annette.

“I want to go to the beach south of town. I hear that the surf down there is amazing. I’d like to try and find that,” I said.

“Sure. Sounds cool. We can ask around while we shop,” she said, “You done? Ready to shop?”

“Absolutely, I was born ready,” I said. We jumped in the Miata and headed for Boulevard Lopez Mateos.

A typical weekend and the Boulevard was crawling with tourists. Annette and I stopped at a few shops we knew from years before buying the latest fun little trinket at rock bottom prices. We ventured down some of the sidestreets always on the lookout for the new little shop that would disappear in a month’s time, but right now would have great stuff. Annette found a jewelry shop that fit the description. I left with three sets of earrings, a charm bracelet that would’ve cost me $300 at Neimans’s and a toe ring. I’d never bought one before, but this one was beautifully decorated with a mermaid, silver and delicate.

“Wasn’t that the most awesome place?” said Annette.

“Incredible. I can’t believe I bought a toe ring,” I answered.

“Okay, let’s find Linda’s next. I need some new stuff,” she said, and we zigzagged our way back to the Boulevard and started looking for Aveneida de la Beso.

We found it, a little storefront off of a courtyard with a fountain. It looked small when we entered, but we soon realized that the store was deep, opening up in the back. The interior was nice. Much nicer than most of the hit-and-run-style of businesses that occupied most of the area. Annette and I headed off into the racks of clothes. I searched for whatever struck my fancy and caught a couple of blouses and skirts, which I took with me. Annette came running up to me.

“Debbie, you have to come see this,” she said, dragging me deep into the back of the store.

“What?” I said. Reluctant to leave the skirt I’d just found.

There was another little entry with stone steps leading down into another boutique. It was filled wall-to-wall with the most incredible collection of lingerie I’d ever seen. The materials were stunning, beautifully brocade silks and printed satins that I’d never seen before. The robes, pajamas, loungewear…everything sported a little tag with the name “Abrazos y Besos.” “Hugs and kisses? Cute,” I thought.

The room itself was like a shrine. The arched ceiling was painted with murals of fishermen hauling nets of fish with white clouds and flying angels overhead. Pillars ran between each of the cabinets of clothes along the walls. The red tile floor set off the freestanding tables of bras, panties and stockings. And to top it off, everything was really inexpensive.

“This is incredible. I’m in underwear Heaven!” I said to no one in particular. Annette laughed.

“May I help you, ladies?” a Spanish accent said. Annette and I both turned around and there was the most beautiful dark woman. I didn’t speak for a moment as I took in her beauty, her long black hair, her olive-toned skin and the most incredible green eyes…

She raised her hand and cleared her throat.

“Oh, uh, we…uh…we were just looking,” I stammered.

She wore a wrap-around skirt with long fringe along the edge, a bustier top that threatened to spill her breasts out at any second. At the base of her long neck, a beautiful silver necklace with waves worked into the design of the chains sparkled in the lights.

“Your store is amazing,” said Annette, “Where did you manage to get all this stuff?”

The woman smiled. “Actually, we make all of it in our factory up the coast near Rosita. The materials are from India, Africa, Italy… I’m glad you like them. We work very hard to make every little item special,” she said.

I still didn’t know what to say, she was stunning.

“Hello, I’m Linda and this is my place,” she said extending her hand. I shook it, falling into those green eyes. Her full lips smiled at me.

“Hi, I’m Annette and my silent friend here is Debbie,” said Annette giving me a “what-the-hell’s-wrong-with-you” look.

“Debbie? Short for Deborah, I imagine?” she said.

“Yes. Glad to meet you, Linda. You…um, surprised me. Sorry,” I said.

“No apologies necessary. I see that you have already found some things. Would you like me to take them to a dressing room for you?” Linda asked.

“Sure. Thank you,” I said. Linda walked toward the back of the shop. Annette grabbed my arm.

“You look like you’ve never seen a woman before,” she laughed, “Snap out of it. We have a lot of shopping to do and from the look of this place, I need to set aside money for gas to get home.”

We never made it back into the rest of the store, choosing instead to spend our time in the boutique. Linda waited on us hand and foot, continually taking our chosen items away to the back of the boutique. I found an incredible set of satin loungewear and this time, followed Linda back to the dressing rooms. We passed into an another room that looked like something out of an Arabian tent. The floor was covered in gorgeous rugs and the walls were draped. The drapery ran up to a point in the ceiling where a large chandelier hung. Linda directed me through a flap in the wall. The dressing room was more like a small waiting room. There was a big floral chair, a freestanding rack with my clothes hanging from it and a matching sofa across from a wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I just stood there looking at it for a moment.

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