Seduca

You know the myth of medusa, right? A woman, who's hair was made of serpents, would turn people to stone with just one look. Well, she was seduca... one look from her and your nipples turn into stone. She is Bree Van de kamp, and she had the power to turn my nipples into stone with just one glance from across the street.

When we first met, she was no where near being a Atelophobic (phobia of imperfection). She actually used to burn toast. Only after starting an affair with me is when she began perfecting herself. When she tried to hide her imperfections with being perfect is when her husband knew something was wrong. Bree would always try to convince him that she was trying to better herself for his and the children's sake. That's another thing... she only had children because it was an obligation, she treated those few hours of sex as conjugal visits. Her prison was her marraige and the lock and key were her two children, Rex was the husband who would come for a "visit" once every month. I was the cell mate in the same position who leaned on her for support and vice versa, but no one knew that these cell mates became each other's bitch, figurativly speaking of course.

She is, often, mistaken of being a Martha Stuart wannabe, but she is equally dirty as she is clean. That coment can only be explained by a memory: I laid there on her bed while she mounted me like she was going horse back ridding. I wasn't allowed to do anything when she was in that mood, but how could I have done anything when she had me pinned down. My arms were stretch above me and held together by one of her extremely strong hands and my legs were traped under her nape of her ankle. There was nothing between us... no clothes, no pretenses, just her and me lying naked together. Her body was cool and her nerves were collected. I was the outlet of heat and pure arousal. She knew she was turning me on with her dominant bravado; she also knew I was dying to touch her and that's what turned her on, the power to allow me. When she was with me, she had expressive eyes; when I looked into her eyes at that moment I knew what she was going to do. She was going to make the journey to achieve that earth rattling orgasm long and pleasantly torturous. She drew her bottom lip in between her teeth and lowered herself down to me and seperated then pulled my arms down to rest by my sides. With a heated kiss we made contact in the most intimate place. Her hips initiated the rocking... I just followed suit. The circular motion of her hips mesmerized me... I almost fainted from the presure and the slow rate. Bree was gasping and panting for air already. Her hair became a curtain to her face; she released one of my arms for a second, to brush back her hair. That body of hers wasn't so cool and collected anymore. Almost her whole body lit up in a rosy glow and I felt slight trembles around my hips and waist. That delicious pace she she started was to torture me, but she was the one dying for release so she sped up the stroke of her hips. She was beautiful, her skin had a sheen to it and her pupils were dialated. When she threw back her head, I knew she was close. I was able to get my arms away from her grasp and pulled her hips down so that more pressure was added. The groans and moans that came from her made me come very close to the orgasm that we both were trying to achieve, but I waited for her.

"Gaaaaagggghhhh!!!! Lyyyyyynnnneeeette!" Just listening to her climax triggered a reaction in me.

"Oh GAWD, Breeeee!!!!" After she place feather-light kisses along my jaw and mouth she pulled herself off of me to rest beside me. Both with contented smiles, she drifted off to sleep and I watched her. It is rare for everyone else to see Bree Van De Kamp flushed and hair disheveled... smelling like sex, but I see her like that almost every night and tonight will be no different.