Erotic fiction inspired by Julia Roca and Ena Sweet in “Oiled”
It took a moment to recognize Julia on a Friday night in the skincare aisle of the pharmacy. When she finally noticed I was staring at her she looked up with eyes that also took a moment to warm.
“Oh, hi,” she said with a glowing smile.
“Julia, right?” I said, glowing back.
“Yeah, Ena, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s been, what, a year?”
“About that,” I said.
Julia was dating Todd at the time. I was dating Jeff. Todd and Jeff were buddies. Their idea of a good time was meeting up at a sports bar for wings and beers with a wall of football games in front of them... and a side of girls.
“How is Todd?” I asked.
Julia shook her head and gave me a look like I had mentioned he who shall not be named.
“How is Jeff?” she said.
“Same,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Well, at least it looks like you got a hot date in that cute dress,” said Julia, eyeing a massive bottle of red wine and a block of dark chocolate in my basket.
“No, this is what passes as date night for me and Freckles,” I said, holding up a can of gourmet cat food. “And you? Where are you off to with that big bottle of...”
“Oh, this? It’s extra virgin coconut oil,” she said, immediately blushing. “It’s for... uh… nothing. I’m, um, not going anywhere, really.”
It was time to change the subject, and I went with knee-jerk hospitality. “Well, I shouldn’t finish this Cabernet on my own,” I said. “I live right around the corner. Do you want to come over and watch a movie or something?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” said Julia. “I wouldn’t want to impose. I mean, it sounds fun but...”
“So, I’ll take that as a yes?” I said.
By midnight, there was a crumpled wrapper of chocolate and an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table in my apartment. We’d moved on to a bottle of Scotch.
We had spent most of the night sharing horror stories about past relationships. “…Jeff wasn’t too happy when I told him I was giving him up for Lent. I was just relieved I didn’t have to give up chocolate,” I said, dabbing some leftover flakes from the wrapper.
“There’s a lot I wouldn’t give up for men,” said Julia.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, coconut oil. That’s, like, my new boyfriend,” said Julia, holding her fingers over her mouth to suppress nervous laughter.
“Wow, sounds exciting,” I said. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“In the bath or directly on the skin?” she asked, tapping me lightly on my arm. Her touch caught my breath by surprise and I needed to gulp to release it.
“You would make me choose?” I said.
She shrugged passively, knowing I was intimidated but totally turned on. Her gaze started to wander all over my body as my eyes remained fixed on her in disbelief—I’d never come close to flirting with another girl before. The tension lingered until she got up and poured more Scotch, mixing it with some pink lemonade. My lips curled with excitement when I saw she was carrying one big drink and the bottle of oil. She handed me the drink and let her fingers linger on mine. As the whisky concoction touched my tongue, she dabbed her fingers in the oil. I held the glass at my mouth, hiding my restless tongue, as she traced a line of oil from the top of my hand down my forearm. The hairs on my arms and neck all came to life.
“You gonna give me some of that drink?” she asked.
After a few big swigs, she put it down and dabbed her fingers in the oil again, lathering it on my surrendering lips. She tilted her head back and inspected me like she was looking in a mirror.
“Beautiful,” she said. “You’re so beautiful.” I looked down with giddy embarrassment as she reached for my braid and pulled it back over my shoulder.
“My lips are chapped,” she said, playing with my hair.
I giggled at the implication but her eyes were now heavy on me, drawing me in. I consented to her open mouth, and she rubbed the gloss off my lips onto hers. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and we made out for a while. We were both quiet when we stopped.
“Do you want to come to my bedroom?” I said.
She nodded. I led her eagerly to my bedroom but the intimacy seemed lost as I cleaned the dirty clothes off the floor and quickly made up my bed. We felt like strangers, standing face to face, unsure of what to do with ourselves.
Julia was giving me admiring looks, as if I were a pretty girl in some gossip magazine at the cash register. She was the first to make a move, but not at me. She stuck her finger through a silver loop dangling from her zipper like her nose ring and pulled it down slowly to reveal her bra and panties. My dress was the next to go.
She asked for my help with her bra before parading her breasts in front of me. My bra quickly followed—it was neck and neck in a game of strip poker, and these gamblers were running out of chips. The sight of my nipples made her mouth water as she massaged her breasts. She shimmied her thong down her legs. I grinned as I threw my cotton undies a few inches short of the dirty clothes basket.
Our nakedness communicated what our words had failed to. We wanted to fuck. And yet someone still needed to make a move. Julia leaned in and finally we got back to where we had left off on the couch.
After some more kissing, Julia asked me to lie down flat on the bed. She drizzled oil from my shoulders to my ass cheeks. Doing her best to play masseuse, she couldn’t keep her hands off my butt. She was teasing me a little bit so I slid my fingers under my body and started playing with myself.
“You’re having too much fun,” she said. “Get up on your knees and let me have a turn.”
The little brownnoser took long licks of my pussy and ass and then wiggled her tongue in between my fat lips. It felt like her tongue had left her mouth and was whirling and twirling on my insides. She snapped me out of my internal dizziness with a heavy dose of oil on my ass and then had me turn over to cover my tits and stomach. I sat back in her arms and she quickly worked my naked lips and clit until I came, hard.
When I recovered, Julia was ready for me. She leaned back and showed me her bush. I licked my way down into her thick of things and didn’t stop until my tongue had leapt inside of her. She was still catching her breath when I whispered to ask if she would stay the night.
“It’s morning, so you must mean tomorrow night?” she said, laughing quietly at her cleverness.
“Well, we’ll need more oil,” I said, emptying the bottle over her chest.
“And wine,” she said.
“Some sleep?” I said.
“Only after you fuck me,” she said. I improvised with a couple fingers and it was all she needed to climax noisily.
We cuddled in bed for a little while and then I slid my body over hers until our breasts collided. We slipped against each other until our bodies were shining. We kissed and my tastebuds deciphered a mix of flavors I could get used to: two pussies with a trace of coconut.
About the author: The Junkman is a contributing writer for the MetArt Network, blending his twin passions for erotic storytelling and high-class porn. He shares a range of musings at JunkPixels.com
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