It was Friday and a day off, which turned into a long weekend. What do you do when you’re single and living alone? I tried sleeping in, but after a while I started tossing and turning. Eventually I gave up, got out of bed, stretched my back, and reached my arms high above my head.
I caught my reflection in the mirror: a naked woman who has pretty much everything she could want… except a relationship. How do I even get one? she seemed to ask. Honestly, I don’t know either, I told myself, but what doesn’t exist yet can still come — preferably before I get too old.
I took a quick shower, spritzed on some perfume, slipped into panties, a little skirt, and a cute top. I jumped into my Toyota and drove off in search of adventure. I wandered around for a while, driving nowhere in particular.
That’s when I saw her — a girl standing alone at a bus stop with her thumb out. I slowed down, stopped, and lowered the window. “Where are you heading?”
“Home,” she said, sniffling. “My boyfriend threw me out.”
“Ouch,” I replied. “Get in.”
She didn’t say much at first, so I just drove. After a while I gently started a conversation. She had stayed over at his place and things had gone badly. He had been sweet in the beginning, but then wanted more. She had clearly said no. That should have been the end of it.
“What now?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Her parents lived nearby, but she couldn’t face them — they had always been against him.
I suggested she come to my place to calm down first. She agreed. I turned the car around and took the quickest route home.
By then I had learned her name was Emma. Definitely better than mine.
I tossed my keys aside and told her to make herself comfortable. “Coffee, tea, or something else?”
“Tea, please.”
Soon the kettle whistled and the tea was on the table with sweetener, sugar, and a cookie. She slowly started to relax. She had hoped for a nice weekend, but that dream was shattered. “Men, huh?” I said. “They’re all the same. I’m better off without them.”
She had no jacket or spare clothes — everything was still at her ex’s. I offered to pick them up. She gave me the address and phone number. When I called, he said he’d put her things outside. “With pleasure,” he added coldly.
I drove over, rang the bell, and he left the bag by the door without even saying hello. Back home I gave Emma her belongings. She threw her arms around me. “Thank you so much!” I could feel her soft body pressed against mine. It felt wonderful.
She checked her bag and got angry. “That pervert! He took a pair of my panties out.” I laughed and told her I had plenty of spare underwear she could borrow. “But first, you should take a nice shower.”
I gave her a towel, soap, shampoo, cream, and body lotion. “Take your time. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Half an hour later she came out with wet hair, the towel wrapped around her body. She bent down to grab something from her bag and disappeared back into the bathroom. When she returned, we chatted. She had just started working at the supermarket — first stocking shelves, now at the checkout. She liked it.
I reminded her to call her parents. She did, and when they asked where she was, she handed me the phone. I explained the situation and said I’d bring her home the next day.
Saturday she went back home. To my surprise, she showed up again on Sunday with a gift voucher as a thank-you from her and her parents. A few days later she called. “Can you help me with something?”
“Sure, come over.”
When she arrived she was carrying a small bag. “I bought some stuff to shave… down there. But I’m a bit clumsy. Will you help me?”
I sighed, half laughing. “Alright, come on then.” We went to the bathroom.
She stood in front of me with her legs apart, but that wasn’t practical. “Sit on the toilet lid.” While the water was running she suddenly needed to pee. She lifted the lid, sat down, did her business, wiped, and sat back down. I couldn’t help but smile.
I trimmed her first, then applied shaving foam, massaged it in, and carefully started shaving. “That tickles!” she giggled. I was extra careful around her most sensitive areas.
When I finished, she stepped into the shower and I rinsed her gently with lukewarm water. I handed her a mirror. She admired herself, clearly pleased. Then I took some body lotion and started rubbing it into her skin. She sighed with pleasure. “That feels so good… You can do more if you want.”
I was getting warm and excited myself. Before I knew it, my clothes were off too. Emma helped. We stood naked, bodies pressed together — breasts, bellies, hips, four hands on each other’s bottoms.
I poured massage oil over myself and lay down. “Your turn to massage me first.” Emma’s hands glided all over me. I shivered with pleasure, arching my back. My breasts swelled, nipples hard. “Harder,” I moaned. “Much harder. Squeeze. Pinch them.”
She climbed on top of me. I grabbed her breasts but they kept slipping from my hands as she moved. Then I slid between her legs, took her swollen sex in my hand, squeezed gently until she was dripping, and licked her juices. I was so turned on I suddenly bucked my hips hard, crying out as a powerful orgasm crashed through me.
Emma looked at me wide-eyed. “What… what was that?”
“Heaven and hell at the same time,” I panted. “Pure bliss. You’ll get one too, I promise. Just not right now.”
We showered together, then cuddled on the couch for a while before she had to go home — we both had work the next day.
Later that night in bed I tried to finish what we started, touching myself slowly. The tingling spread everywhere, but I couldn’t quite get there. I caressed my breasts, belly, and thighs, but the feeling slowly faded. Aftershocks, probably. I’d had enough for one day.
