A Literotica Tale: Kashmira Was Down Mystic Ireland
My 21st birthday was supposed to be perfect. I’d spent the morning shopping with my mom, hunting for a gift to dazzle my boyfriend, James. At Quibbler’s Boutique, I found it—a sheer purple babydoll chemise that hugged my curves like a lover’s whisper, its $50 price tag a steal for how it made me feel: bold, seductive, unstoppable. My long dark hair spilled over the delicate straps, and my full breasts filled the fabric just right. Mom suggested we celebrate with coffee, so we headed to my favorite haunt, 42nd Street Café. Sipping a double hot chocolate, I felt the warmth of the day settle in—until my gaze landed on James across the room, his hand entwined with another woman’s.
My stomach twisted. I swapped seats with Mom to watch them, telling myself it was just coffee. But when they left, hand in hand, my heart shattered. I stormed over, words spilling out in a furious blur, tearing into James before Mom and I fled the café. Back home, I collapsed onto my plush couch, raiding my stash of chocolate as tears streamed down my face. The phone rang, but I ignored it, dreading his voice. Then I heard, “Hey, Kash, how was your day?” It was Jennifer, my best friend, her familiar warmth cutting through my haze.
Sobbing, I spilled everything—James, the betrayal, the ache. Jen’s voice softened with resolve. “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll cancel with Sam and come over. Wear your gift, okay? We’ll fix this.” Jen and I had always been each other’s anchor, our bond evolving into something deeper, more intimate, over time. Exhausted, I slipped into the chemise, its sheer fabric teasing my skin. The fire cast a soft glow in the dimly lit room, and I curled up on the couch, letting sleep pull me under. Dreams of warmth and comfort wrapped around me, blurring the edges of my pain.
I didn’t hear Jen let herself in—she had a key—but I woke to her standing before me, naked, her eyes tracing the lines of my chemise with a hungry glint. “Sam’s running late,” she purred, a mischievous spark in her gaze. “Wanna have some fun?” Before I could answer, she knelt beside me, her fingers teasing my breasts through the thin fabric, her lips claiming mine in a slow, searing kiss. Heat pooled between my thighs, my body betraying my lingering sorrow. My hand slid between her legs, finding her slick with desire. She gasped as I slipped two fingers inside her, my thumb circling her clit with deliberate pressure. Her hips rocked, urging me deeper, and I obliged, reveling in her pleasure.
I nipped at her hardened nipple, sucking and biting as she moaned, her body trembling on the edge. Wanting to push her over, I slid to the floor, positioning myself beneath her. My tongue teased her clit, slow at first, then relentless, my fingers plunging in sync. Jen’s body arched, her cries echoing as she shattered, her release coating my lips and hands. I savored her sweetness, licking her clean as she leaned down to help, our tongues meeting in a shared, intimate dance.
She flipped the script, her voice low and commanding. “Sit on the couch, legs spread.” I obeyed, the firelight catching the glint of my arousal on my freshly shaved skin. My swollen lips and protruding clit were an open invitation, and Jen’s eyes darkened with want. “Beg for it,” she teased, making me squirm with need. “Please, Jen,” I whispered, desperate. She didn’t make me wait long, dropping to her knees and lapping at me with a skill that unraveled me. Her tongue pressed hard against my clit, two fingers moving slow and deep inside me. I came undone, moaning loudly as waves of pleasure crashed through me, my body trembling with release.
Unbeknownst to us, Sam had slipped in, his presence unnoticed until I caught the bulge straining against his pants—a silent testament to the show we’d given him. Jen froze, her cheeks flushing. Sam didn’t know about our past, but his grin was all confidence. “Let’s see if you suck cock as well as Jen eats pussy,” he said, shedding his pants. I hesitated, glancing at Jen. Her nod was subtle but clear. Cock was my domain, and I wasn’t about to disappoint. I took him in hand, licking the precum from his tip before swallowing him deep, my lips and tongue working in tandem. Sam groaned, “Fuck, she’s good.” Jen smirked, joining me. We traded roles—her teasing his balls, me sucking him deep—until I slipped a finger into his ass, pushing him over the edge. He came hard, his release painting our faces. Jen and I cleaned each other with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the moment.
Sam glanced at the clock, muttering about an early shift. “We should do this again,” he said, grinning as he left. Jen stayed, climbing into my bed naked. I shed my chemise and joined her, our bodies curling together under the covers. Her warmth against me was a balm, turning a broken birthday into a night of unexpected connection.
