Deep Coverage

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This is Kristen. After graduating, I got engaged with a boy from college while I started working for a news magazine. I started as a proofreader under the guidance of Laura, a social reporter, and little by little, I earned the respect of my workmates, especially, of my young “mentor.” It was not difficult working for her or with other editors, on the contrary, they helped me a lot to develop my own style when I wrote my first article about models and their diets. Although it was another reporter who guided me through the interviews and research, Laura kept me true to the human angle, so it wouldn’t seem like a “dish” on anorexic women.

A few weeks after my first important piece, my fiancé, Yamil, sent a text message to my cell phone:


I called back immediately to ask about it:

“Well, Yamil, what is it?”

“Please, not on the phone…”

“All right.”

When I got there, he was already waiting for me with a couple of cups of coffee. After the traditional kiss on our lips, he invited me to sit with him. I tasted my coffee, exactly how I like it. We learned about our mutual tastes in food and drink after long study nights on campus and some evenings at this city.

“So, what’s so urgent that you had to see me in person?”

“I’m leaving for Chicago again tonight.”

“But it’s been barely two months since you did an article there.”

“That’s why I’m going back. I made very good friends there and they will help me to settle there.”

“Settle there? What about us?”

“Things aren’t good enough for me at the agency for which I work.”

“You have not answered my question.”

“I’m sorry, but this could be my big break.”


“All right, we will have to break up! You wouldn’t want me to do so without seeing you face-to-face.”

“You’re right; It would not have been decent on your part. Now I understand, but tell me, are you seeing someone else?”

“That is not what it is. I already told you: over there, I have a good position waiting for me, but I need to act quickly. I hope you don’t hold a grudge against me.”

“Not at all. I love you.”

“And I love you, but it’s better this way. We weren’t meant to last. And now, I must leave; my flight leaves in a few hours.”

There was one last kiss, a little longer, and a good-bye. I returned my engagement ring right there, and that hurt us both even more. I cried a lot that night, but the following morning, I forgave him and I still consider him a good friend.”

Laura also wanted to explore new horizons, and she was hired by a fashion magazine, with no more qualifications than her impeccable taste in clothing. That opened an enviable position at my job and it was such a surprise when the editor called me to his office to offer it to me. I almost fainted. The boss announced that Laura recommended me insistently before quitting. I accepted the opportunity, and I finally understood the decisions that my two friends made.

A few months later, she invited me to cover, along with her, a fashion show at a shopping mall on the outskirts of the city. Although the line was casual, for teenagers and middle-class customers, there were some very elegant gowns and even see-through. I preferred not to write about this in my article, not wanting to draw too much attention to a chain of family-oriented stores. After the press conference and the get-together that followed, we took a moment to write down the last notes into casino siteleri our laptop computers and send advances of the reviews to the newsroom. Upon finishing, I saw my former workmate and I praised her:

“The show was awesome. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“you’re welcome, you will always be my colleague.”

“Even now that I’m your competitor?”

“That’s no problem. As long as you can maintain your level of professionalism.”

“You flatter me.”

Her face brightened, and I imagine that mine did too, and then we blushed, I don’t know why. We looked down to close our computers and we went on separate ways to get some hors d’oeuvres and drinks and mingle. Little by little, people were leaving, and when I went to the parking lot, I realized that my photographer forgot all about me, in a hurry to develop his material. Laura saw me and stopped her car, to say to me:

“It seems that we are the last ones to leave.”

“I can see that.”

“Do you need a lift?”

“Well, yes. If it’s no problem, I came by bus and I can’t see them coming anymore…”

“We’re headed to the same city, hop in.”

“Thank you.”

After traveling for a few miles, I noticed that Laura was falling asleep at the wheel, and I tried to start a conversation to keep her alert, but I was also showing signs of fatigue. I told her:



“Look, it is late and there’s still a long way back. Let’s stop at a motel to spend the night.”

She gave me a puzzled look, perhaps taking offense, but she then smiled and agreed.

“You’re right, we could check our notes at leisure.”

We parked at an inn and she paid for the room. I insisted on paying but she had already taken charge of the bill. She picked up a gym bag from her trunk and we entered the room. She told me to take the first shower, and when I got out, she gave me a little robe so I would feel more relaxed. When she went into the shower, I checked my notes, but everything seemed OK. After a while, I realized that she was watching me, and we commented, almost at the same time:

“Just like old times.”

We laughed a little at the remark, we put our laptops away and we began to chat. We talked about many topics, like teenagers. When I leaned on my bed, the lapel of my robe slipped and one of my nipples peeked into view of her. At first, I didn’t notice, but Laura did. What I did noticed was the expression on her face that I used to get from my former boyfriend, and instinctively, I threw her a mischievous glance, but then, I remembered who was in front of me, and I was embarrassed, I turned my back to her and I stepped away. She approached slowly, and she said:

“What’s the matter?”

I didn’t answer. She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked at my eyes and she asked me:

“Is something wrong?”

I avoided her gaze and I answered exasperated:

“There’s nothing wrong.”

She didn’t respond with words, but she wouldn’t turn her eyes away from mine. I said:

“You might think that I am a awful person.”

“No way! I would never think badly about you…”

Absentmindedly, I continued speaking:

“You’re imagining that I’m a shameless lesbian.”

“Not shameless.”

“But lesbian.”

“I’m not judging your preferences, on the contrary, I might be willing to please you for one night.”

“But I’m not a lesbian!”

“Sorry I said anything.”

Now she was the one felt ashamed and she took a few steps back. I realized that I hurt her, so I apologized:

“Forgive me, slot oyna I shouldn’t have lashed at you, you were only trying to be nice to me.”

Now it was up to me hug her, and she held me tightly. I felt her body tremble against mine. Then I understood that I had struck a sensitive chord within her. I gathered tenderness that I had not had a chance to express for so long and I caressed her hands and face, and suppressing my prejudice, I commented to her playfully:

“Did you like what you saw?”

“When did you realize that I am…?”

“Just now, but I finally understand some of gestures and attentions that you had toward me.”

As if drawn by an uncontrollable magnetism, Laura pressed her face against mine, a few millimeters of my lips, and she murmured:

“You are so beautiful!”

“So are you!”

My own words surprised me, but I was already in too deep. She kissed me passionately and I didn’t resist. It’s been so long since Yamil left me that I told her:

“Tonight, I’m yours.”

Her lips went down my neck, giving me kisses that bristled the hairs on my neck and my nipples, while my vagina was getting very wet. She untied my robe and she moved her head to catch a nipple with her mouth to suck it, while she murmured:

“Come to Mama, you naughty boy.”

The caress electrified me to such degree that I pushed her robe off her shoulders and dropped it before mine reached the floor. When she went for my other breast, I lifted her face, I kissed her and I took one of hers, one cup size larger than mine, in my hand in order to quickly suck it. She aimed my head to make sure that I didn’t leave any spot of her bust without kissing and caressing. Then, she motioned me so to lean back on one of the beds and she kissed my breasts again, to travel from there over my belly until her lips reached the entrance of my burning vulva. She exclaimed:

“You can’t imagine for how long I have yearned to have you like this.”

I caressed her cheek with my fingers, and after our eyes met briefly, she tongued my labia until my clitoris was sticking out and she hurried to suck it. From time to time, she let go of it in order to play with my labia minora, creating suspense in me. I growled between my teeth:

“Stop teasing me, make me come!”

She ignored me for a minute, caressing my thighs and blowing her breath on my wet parts. I groaned:

“Oooohh, please!”

And she put a finger into my canal while she gave the last assaults on my clitoris with her tongue. My orgasm sprouted like a tsunami, making my thighs and hips jerk out of control. Still aroused, I stood up and I set her in the position in which I was lying, and without further ado, I began licking her vulva. I mimicked her the best that I could, especially, the part in which she tormented me by spacing the kisses on her clitoris, and when I had my fingers inside her vagina, I felt tempted to put one through her anus. Upon approaching her forbidden orifice, she became more stimulated than I had expected, and I went back to suck her clitoris again because she wouldn’t last very long. I grabbed her buttocks and I raised her hips in order to catch as much of her juices as possible while she grabbed her own breasts and pinched her nipples mercilessly. She screamed:

“Aah, aah, ahh!”

And she drenched me with the whole stream of sex that she had been holding up to that moment. Suddenly, she got up from the bed, she dug her hand in her travel bag and she pulled out an enormous strap-on dildo, she fastened it to her own hips and she went to lie on top canlı casino siteleri of me. Before penetrating me, she kissed my lips, exchanging our own vaginal fluids, and she even touched her nipples to mine, and she asked me:

“Are you ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be…”

And then, I felt that so enormous thing go through my vulva and vagina, until it stopped against my cervix. Definitively, it was much longer than what Yamil had between his legs. The pleasure of being filled by that artificial shaft overcame the pain as she pumped, until I achieved another intense orgasm, and another, and another. Suddenly, she stopped, she unfastened it, and leaving it buried inside me, she asked me:

“Now, you do me.”

When I pulled it out, it made a funny sound, like a bottle popping open, and we giggled without spoiling our desire. She helped me tie it to my waist, and she got in position. While she cradled me in her arms, I pressed the instrument into her tender vagina. At first, the pleasure was all hers, and the only thing that I felt was the almost sadistic sensation of subjecting a female to my domain. I pumped it even more forcefully, knowing that I was repeatedly piercing her cervix, but she wasn’t showing any discomfort, on the contrary, she urged me on:

“Yes, yes! Give it to me, bitch! More! Aaahh!”

Allowing myself to get carried away by my manly role, I said to her:

“Who’s your man, huh? Who’s your stud!”

“You, Kristen, you own me!”

The most incredible thing happened: along with the last and most intense orgasm that she felt that night, I reached one as good or better, although that dildo didn’t have any part penetrating me while I used it on her. We fell asleep, or perhaps, we fainted after such a tremendous expenditure of energy and pleasure, with my “penis” still buried inside my ex-boss’s vagina…

When I woke up, I quickly pulled away and I moved to the other bed, and I saw such a grotesque contraption still tied to my waist, I felt odd, and at the same time, fascinated. The sudden movement also woke Laura up, at the moment in which I tried to unfasten the dildo. She went to my side and helped me, and taking me by my hand, she led to the bathroom. We took turns at the toilet and we went into the shower to wash our mess and she got aroused again, but I did not. She asked me:

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it? Not long ago, you didn’t find it so repulsive…”

“It’s not like that…”

But she could see through my false modesty, and answered:

“I can see that you don’t feel like I do.”

I tried to appease her, but I was only able to stammer unintelligibly. She came out of the shower, and making a fuss about our breakup, she started to wash her toy in the sink, while she continued:

“I understand perfectly. It might have been some involuntary reaction on your part, motivated by your loneliness. It’s all right…”

I blushed and even broke into tears, because I knew that she was right. I didn’t have the nerve to embrace a lesbic lifestyle, and what hurt me more was that I didn’t talk about it. She hugged me, not looking for more sex, but to comfort me, by saying:

“Don’t feel so bad. It was good while it lasted. You’re not betraying me. It’s just that this isn’t you, although last night, you might have fooled me!”

“You’re still speaking kindly of me.”

“I am your friend, and you’re mine too. Now, wipe those tears and let’s get dressed, so we can go home.”

When we got dressed and we left, it was still dark, so we had more than enough time to return to our respective apartments, get refreshed, put on clean clothes, have some breakfast and go to our offices to begin reworking the articles that we brought back from the fashion show.

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