Copyright © 1998,    Corn53.     ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.





Jemma, Part ?     MEETING AIREL 
 
     “How are you feeling, Jemma?  Were all those vibrators at once bothering
you?” asked Bill as he led me away from the Vibrator Table. “You looked a
little shaky getting down off the table.” 
     My legs felt like jelly and I was shaky inside and out.  “I felt like my
skin was electric all over, Bill, like those balloons in Science Class that
made my hair stand up - only, like, um, my skin felt like tingly.  I still do.
But it felt good. That’s for sure,” still having trouble thinking clearly. 
     “Good.  Glad you liked it. Next were going to the Girl-Identify-Other-
Girl Stage.  Here’s how this event works.  It’s kind of a way to see if you
can tell two other girls apart even though you can’t see them.  You’ll be
allowed to use your hands though.  They will be standing on the stage, with
only their wrist cuffs and blindfolds on.  Their arms will be stretched over
their heads while you feel them, get to know them.  You’re not allowed to talk
to either of the contestants.  After you’ve explored each of them for a couple
minutes, we will move them around and see if you can tell which contestant is
which.  OK?” 
     “Is somebody else going to ‘Identify’ me later?” I asked, full of
questions. “Why won’t we have our hoods on?  What if they are embarrassed?
Will people be watching me while I touch them?” My words not able to keep up
with the questions and pictures forming in my mind. 
     Laughing again, “Oh, Jemma, I’m so glad we found you.  Yes, some of the
other contestants will have to identify you, too.   You won’t be wearing hoods
so that, umm, you can use more of your senses to help you identify the other
girls.   And...” 
     Interrupting, “’Other senses,’ what do you mean?” 
     “Well, besides your hands, you can use your nose and mouth.  Maybe even
‘taste’ them - to help you tell them apart.  They won’t see you because
they’re blindfolded, too. The girls won’t ever see your face even though they
will hear your name.  Don’t even worry about that because no two girls in the
contest are from the same city.   You’ll be completely anonymous, so you can
do whatever you want, except hurt them, of course.  OK?” Bill explained. 
     Continuing, “I know you’ll do fine, Jemma.  You’re getting quite a
reputation as a ‘champion’ here tonight.  Just to make it more challenging for
you, we found two contestants of the same height and weight  They will both be
put in the same position at the start of each round, starting with their hands
stretched above their heads.” 
     Sounds of a group of the male judges grew louder as we approached.  I
overheard comments like, “These two will be tough to tell apart.  They look
identical to me, both beautiful.”  “Oh, it’s Jemma.  This should be good -
lot’s of spirit.”  “I followed her over from the last event.  What a champ.
You could tell she liked it all right, practically made a puddle on her
sheet.”  “Hey, I even heard she volunteered for another practice round of
‘Tasting.’  I’m sure gonna stay for that!”  These few comments I could
distinguish from the general murmur made me start to tingle inside again -
wondering about the two beautiful girls, thinking about strangers ‘tasting’
me.  It was getting me wet again.  I could feel it on my thighs.  My thighs
don’t rub together since my legs are so skinny, but I could certainly feel the
cool, 
slippery, wetness in the breeze.  
     “Girls, here comes Jemma now.  She’s going to start touching you so she
can tell you apart. OK?  Remember no talking.” reminded the judge as I was led
up the two big steps.   
     Someone unhooked my chain ‘leash’ as I went up the steps.  Still wearing
my thin, leather collar around my neck, I was led by the hand around the edge
of the small, rectangular stage.  There was a raised, wooden lip around the
edge so that I wouldn’t fall off.  “Don’t worry, Jemma, we’ll all be keeping
our eyes on you.  We won’t let you fall off.” said one of the helpful judges,
chuckling. 
     “Jemma, this is Susie, “ as he placed my left hand on someone’s tight
tummy, “and this is Ariel.”   
     I could tell them apart already!  They both had the same tight stomach
muscles and their belly buttons told me they were each about two inches taller
than me, but Ariel felt “electric.”  I don’t know how else to explain it.   
     The judge who introduced us stepped down off our carpeted stage, feet
klunking on the wooden steps.  Turning,  “OK, Jemma, you’ve got eight minutes
with them in this position.  Get to know them.” 
     Dutifully I stood facing them, a hand on each tummy.  Moved hands to
their breasts, comparing. Surprised how natural I felt doing this.  Not even a
fleeting worry about being a lesbian.  Enjoyed it, in fact.  I said
‘dutifully’ because I felt the judges wanted to see me get puzzled and need to
do more ‘feeling around.’  I wasn’t ‘puzzled’ at all,  rather I just wanted to
hug and caress Ariel - so bad I couldn’t fight it.   Never one to get lost in
‘mind games’ though, I reached down to Ariel’s pussy with my right hand, and
stepping between the two standing girls, knelt between them, and put my left
hand on Ariel’s firm fanny, gripping with flared fingers.  Her pussy was
almost as wet as mine.  My right hand wanted to stay there and explore,
slipping between the folds... slipping so easily between her lips to the
softness within.   
     Each of my hands enjoying the thrill of Ariel’s firm flesh.  I stood,
pressing my whole body against her back, with my right hand still in her bald
pussy.  My left reached around to her breasts, squeezing hard - letting go -
tickling - pinching - moving to the other breast in a total hug.  I kissed the
back of her neck, noticing for the first time the aroma of Ariel’s perfume.
I’ll never forget it.   
     Continuing to circle clockwise around her, momentarily taking my hand
from her pussy, my mouth went right to her breasts, a hand under each one.
They needed no support from my hands. Her breasts were firm. The nipples
seemed hard as our china dishes at home - but oh, so delicious.  My hand
kneading them, tongue lapping, teeth nibbling - I made love to her breasts,
unconscious of the silent crowd.   
     Electrically charged.  Both of us. 
     Unable to move, yet she moved closer.   
     She could not bring her hands down to touch me, or speak any words... but
she did make sounds, passion sounds, soft sounds. 
     Kneeling again, both hands now on her ass, I pulled her to me.  My nose
pressed into her mound as my tongue tried to reach as far between her legs as
possible.  “Untie her!” I wished silently. 
    My left hand reached around - under her ass and between her legs - fingers
meeting my tongue - both probing, loving, savoring. 
     “Untie her!” I pleaded aloud. 
     As if awakened from a spell, someone in the group of quiet judges
reminded me, “You’ve got four more minutes.”  and as an afterthought,   “Then
we’ll change their positions to see if you can tell them apart.”   
     Once again conscious of the crowd, I felt myself flush in embarrassment.
“My god! What am I doing?” I thought... only for an instant. 
     Then thinking,  “Well, they’ll never see me again.  Total strangers.  Who
cares?”  
     Returning quickly to the aroma between Ariel’s legs, I began kissing...
fingers probing deeper.   
     “Hey, Charlie,” I heard someone’s whispered call, beckoning his friend,
“Come ‘ere ‘n look at this.  It’s that Jemma girl.” 
     Ignoring the comments, keeping hands on Ariel’s ass and pussy, I began
kissing my way up her tummy, past her soft, sandpaper mound, up her tummy,
tongue flicking into belly button, on up - catching each breast in turn,
towards my goal.   
     Her mouth. 
     Forgetting her pussy, I wrapped both arms around her thin torso - made
thinner with hands stretched above her head.  Tilting my head up - full, soft
lips returned my own passion.  Reflecting my own desires her tongue met mine.
Not dueling, but tongue caressing tongue.   
    Beautiful.  I could not see her, but she was beautiful.  My arms
constricting her breathing, I loosened my grip and brought my left around to
her heavenly breasts. 
     She was quivering inside.  I felt it.  I knew it.  
     “What am I doing?  Why does she attract me so?  Who is this girl?” my
mind in a turmoil. 
     Scents mingling - both her perfume and her fragrance, now smeared on our
lips, my hands, and her body.   
     “Times up, Jemma.”  water on the fire!       
 
**************************************************** more to come... other
positions......















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