Where There’s Hope Ch. 01


It’s late at night. Outside the window, the city is sleeping. Hope gets up from the sofa, picks up the other DVD from by the TV, slides it into the machine, and curls up to watch. She hasn’t seen this one yet. The other, the one she’s just watched, was just a straight hardcore number. No plot at all. Just Opal and various other women involved in a series of bouts of extremely athletic, if not particularly imaginative sex with a variety of men, some of them one at a time, some more. At one point she managed to entertain four of them, but none of them, Hope thinks, were exactly what you’d call gorgeous. Why is it, she wonders, that it’s always the women in these things who are good-looking? Hope considers herself very broad-minded and is happy to admit to being impressed at the enthusiasm and energy that Opal brought to all the fucking and sucking that came her way and what looked like the genuine enjoyment she got from it all, but that was about as far as it went. She certainly didn’t enjoy it much, and no way did it turn her on. Too macho, too straightforward, too sweaty, too little dialogue, too little subtlety, too much testosterone, far too much of a bog-standard porn film, she decided a long time before the end. Something for the guys, maybe, but not for her. She hopes this other one’s going to be a bit more interesting.

It starts off in an office setting. Opal is one of the first people to appear. It’s not just her long straight dark hair, the structure of the bones of her face, and slender figure that make her stand out so, Hope decides, but something, a presence, perhaps, that surrounds her. The other people are all good-looking, too – it’s easy to see, even from these first few moments, that it’s a classier number than the other one was – but Opal is clearly one of the stars. By and by, through a series of glimpses, of words exchanged, of smiles and looks, the sexual chemistry of the place is revealed. Opal’s main suitor, it seems, is the manager, a rather conventionally handsome guy of about thirty. But, it’s soon made obvious, she’s not interested. Nor does she show any more enthusiasm for the other guys who try it on with her, but they don’t seem to have much trouble finding solace elsewhere. Opal may not be willing, but plenty of others are.

Just as Hope is about to give up on the film as a bad job and go to bed, it changes gear. Opal, she sees, is off on a business trip. Her companion is to be someone who has only appeared in passing so far, a woman called Veronica. She’s older than Opal, in her early thirties, Hope guesses, and a very different type physically. Whereas Opal is slim and petite, with long dark hair, Veronica is broad-shouldered and full-figured, with her blonde hair cropped stylishly short. But, like Opal, she’s very good-looking.

A series of stock scenes follow. A taxi ride. Check-in. The plane taking off. Veronica leaning across Opal to look out of the window. The two of them chatting and laughing over their airline meal. The plane landing. Another taxi ride. A hotel reception. The two of them riding together in the lift and then going off to their rooms.

Hope watches as Veronica goes into hers, throws her suitcase onto her bed, has a look round, and, without fuss or hurry, takes off the clothes she’s been travelling in. Soft music, the sort of music you always seem to get in these films, Hope thinks, begins to play and the camera dwells on her as she strips, lingering on her face, her shoulders and back, her long legs, the curvature of her buttocks in the tiny white panties she has on, a little tattoo of a lizard on her abdomen, and then, as she removes her bra, her breasts, which are large but shapely, with very prominent dark nipples. The panties come off last, revealing a mons so severely trimmed that all that is left to decorate it is a little exclamation mark made up of a few short hairs. Not for the first time, Hope wonders why women like that don’t just shave it all off; surely it would be easier that way.

The camera follows her from behind as, naked, she pads into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Her body glistens as the water plays over it. She takes the soap and raises a lather with her hands. She works it into her breasts, closing her eyes and catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she plays with her nipples, teasing and tugging at them, first one at a time, then both together. While her left hand continues to pleasure them, her right slides down, pausing to fondle her belly, then slipping between her legs to touch her sex. At first she toys with herself in leisurely manner, but then she sinks to the floor and gets more excited, touching herself more and more eagerly, the camera alternating between capturing the rapt expression on her face and the way she is caressing her breasts and close-up shots of her vulva, with her long fingers flicking over her clitoris and her shaven labia until, moaning and gasping in her excitement, she reaches her orgasm, her mouth open and face contorted with delight.

The scene ends. Watching, Hope realises that for the last few minutes she has been completely porno izle absorbed by what’s happening on the screen. She’s always loved playing with herself and there is, she admits to herself, something very exciting about watching another woman, especially one as attractive as this Veronica, doing so in such an open way. Hope touches her own breast through the thin cotton of the gown that is the only thing she’s wearing. It feels good, so she slips the garment off and lets her hands wander over the familiar contours of her body.

On the screen, she notices, Veronica and Opal are now working together at an exhibition stand, dressed in identical white blouses and navy skirts which are obviously their corporate uniform. They look crisp and clean and efficient as they deal with a string of visitors, most of whom seem to be men who want to ask one or both of them out. Politely, flirtatiously, they refuse all of them, smiling and rolling their eyes at each other every time they do so.

The end of the working day comes. All around them, people are packing up. Veronica stretches herself, arms raised above her head, and grins at Opal.

“It’ll be good to get out of here,” Opal says.

“Yes,” answers Veronica. “After a day like that I think we deserve some fun. Don’t you?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, first of all, a long soak in the bath, and then, I think, what about getting dressed up and going out on the town? A few drinks? Maybe a bit of dancing?”

“Sounds good. Do you have any ideas where?”

“I know one or two places. Trust me?”

“Shouldn’t I?” asks Opal with a smile.

The scene fades. The next shows Opal and Veronica getting out of a taxi, all dressed up for their evening out. Opal is wearing the proverbial sexy little black number, a sleeveless microdress that has a plunging neckline and leaves more of her back uncovered than covered, and whose hemline might just be as much as two inches below her crotch. She looks wonderful. Her hair hangs loose and the tiny dress shows off her body and long bare limbs to great advantage. The length of her legs is exaggerated still further by the black high heels she has on. Veronica has gone more for a period look, with a charcoal-coloured dress of some light and shiny material, silk perhaps, that is tight down to the waist and then hangs loosely down to her knees. It is kept up by spaghetti straps over her fine broad shoulders, which are otherwise bare, as are her arms. On her legs she is wearing what at first glance look like black tights. When she walks, though, a slit slashed in the side of her skirt that reaches almost up to her hip makes it clear, with a flash of revealed thigh, pale compared to the colour of her garments, that they are actually stockings. Hope, watching, thinks the two of them look stunning together.

They go down a flight of steps and ring at a door. After a moment a blonde woman in a man’s black suit, complete with white shirt and black tie, opens it for them and ushers them in with a welcoming smile. The camera pans around the room. It’s obviously a nightclub. There are no men to be seen, only women. Others are drinking or chatting. There’s a dancefloor, but nobody is on in at the moment. Two women, both long-haired and attractive, both in long evening dresses, are sharing a long kiss on a sofa, their hands roaming abstractly over one another’s bodies. The camera moves back to Opal and Veronica. They survey the scene and their eyes meet. There’s a question in Veronica’s. She wants to be sure that she hasn’t made a mistake, that it’s OK to have brought Opal to a place like this. By way of answer, she gets a smile.

She offers Opal her hand, which after a moment’s hesitation, is accepted, and leads her to a booth with a sofa and a good view of the room. They sit down, side by side, and are brought drinks. They talk; it looks as if they are relaxing together and enjoying each other’s company.

Most of the time the camera lingers on them, building up the atmosphere with close-ups of their eyes and mouths, their glances and smiles and laughter, of Opal’s bare back and brown legs, and of Veronica’s thigh encased in its sheer stocking, the slit of her skirt now wide open because of the way she is sitting, with her legs crossed. Now and then, though, it moves round the room, and shows that as the evening wears on it is getting much more crowded and lively. As the noise level goes up and the music gets louder, conversation gets harder.

Veronica leans forward to speak into Opal’s ear. “Would you like to dance?” she asks.

Opal looks towards the dancefloor. There are quite a few women there now, but it’s not exactly crowded. She nods.

Veronica takes Opal’s hand in her own, stands up, and leads her towards the dancefloor. Once there, they abandon themselves to the music, heads first nodding and then shaking, their bodies moving, and broad smiles of happiness appearing on their faces as they get into the music and the dance. Both of them, Hope observes, move well.

The music changes tempo. Something altogether amatör porno slower and dreamier starts to play. All round them, couples form, dancing in one another’s arms. Veronica’s eyes meet Opal’s. Once again, there’s an unspoken question. Opal answers with a barely perceptible nod, followed immediately by a step forward with her arms open. Veronica opens her own arms and folds them around Opal, her hands resting lightly on the bare skin of Opal’s back, as the other woman’s hands encircle her waist. Hope swallows. Her mouth is very dry.

The two dancers’ faces are close together now. They look into one another’s eyes, then both smile and begin to move together in time to the music. As they dance, their bodies mould together, their hands and arms each drawing the other closer. Imagining what it would be like to feel another female body next to her own, pressing against her, Hope caresses herself, her fingertips touching the skin of her own breasts, her own stomach, her own thighs, enjoying the softness and sensitivity of her skin as she watches the two beautiful women on the screen.

The song ends. “Thank you,” murmurs Opal into Veronica’s ear, and brushes her cheek with her lips as she draws her head back again.

“Shall we go and get a drink?” Veronica asks.

Opal nods and they go back to the table. Still holding hands, they drink, then smile at each other. Veronica puts her glass down and uses the hand that had been holding it to stroke the side of Opal’s face. Opal takes the hand in her own and kisses her fingertips.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she says. “Don’t go away.” Veronica takes another sip of her drink and follows her with her eyes as she makes her way through the tables to the door.

“Would you like to dance some more?” she asks, when Opal comes back to the table

“I’d rather go back to the hotel, I think,” Opal answers. “Do you mind?”

“Should I?” Veronica laughs.

Opal doesn’t answer. She just flashes her eyes at Veronica and bares her teeth in a grin. The scene fades.

Now Hope sees lift doors opening. Veronica and Opal come out together and pause.

“So, is this goodnight?” Veronica asks quietly.

“Not unless you want it to be,” Opal replies.

“You know the answer to that question, I think.”

“So, my place or yours?”

“Which would you prefer?”

“Mine,” says Opal, definitely.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Veronica says. “I just need to go to my own room for a moment.”

Opal walks to her room, opens the door, and disappears inside. The door closes behind her. A moment later the camera shows Veronica knocking.

“It’s open,” comes Opal’s voice through the door. “Just come in.”

The camera follows Veronica through the door. Opal is sitting at the dressing table. She has taken off her dress and shoes and is wearing nothing but a wisp of scarlet underwear. She is brushing her hair. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at Veronica.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” Veronica answers, and walks across the room to stand behind her. She places her hands on Opal’s shoulders and looks at her reflection in the mirror. “God, you’re beautiful,” she murmurs.

“So are you,” Opal answers softly, turning slightly and putting her own right hand over Veronica’s left. “Let’s be beautiful together,” she continues.

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she stands up and puts her arms around Veronica’s neck. Veronica’s own arms encircle Opal’s waist and the two of them melt together. Their eyes close, their noses rub together, their mouths open, their tongues snake out to meet each other, and they give themselves up to a kiss, a long, searching kiss that the camera catches in close-up and that sends Hope’s pulse racing. Then, as the angle changes, she sees Veronica’s hands grasp Opal’s buttocks, half-bare, half-covered by the scrap of red cloth that is all she has on, and pull her closer to her, so that each of them has a thigh pressed against the other’s groin. Their bodies, Opal’s almost naked, Veronica’s still in the dress, grind together.

Veronica moves a hand up to touch Opal’s bare breast. It isn’t very large, but it looks firm and brown – Opal is deeply tanned all over – and Hope thinks that the shape is just perfect. At first she just runs the tips of her fingers over its surface. Then she cups it in the palm of her hand and uses her forefinger and thumb to play with the nipple, which grows as she does so.

Opal draws away slightly and looks down at her own breast in Veronica’s hand. Then, her mouth open and her eyes looking slightly out of focus, she brings her gaze up to Veronica’s face.

“You’ve got such sweet tits,” Veronica says.

“I bet you have too,” Opal answers. She slips the straps of the dress down over Veronica’s shoulders and upper arms and then reaches behind, undoing the zip and drawing the dress down and away from Veronica’s body in one swift movement. The garment falls to the floor, revealing Veronica’s body in a little black lacy bra and matching briefs and her long anal porno legs, looking shapely and sensual in the sheer stockings she is still wearing. They must be elastic, Hope notices, because there’s no sign of anything like a garter belt.

“Wow,” Opal breathes, standing back in admiration.

“Want to take this off for me?” Veronica asks, smiling and indicating her bra.

“Just try and stop me,” says Opal, smiling and stepping forward eagerly. The bra comes off with the same ease and speed as the dress before it. Opal takes one of Veronica’s large breasts in her hand, feeling its weight and softness. “Beautiful, just beautiful,” she says.

“Come on, baby, let’s go to bed,” is Veronica’s reply.

Opal takes Veronica’s hand in her own and leads her to the big double bed. Releasing Veronica’s hand and leaving her standing at the side of it, she throws herself down on to it and then, lying on her side, smiles, pats the bed next to her with one hand, and crooks the forefinger of the other in an unmistakable come-hither gesture.

Veronica needs no second invitation. She climbs on to the bed and lies down next to Opal. She turns on her side to face her. They wrap their arms around each other and start kissing again, rubbing together with legs intertwined and hands roving freely over naked flesh. The soft music that has been playing quietly in the background now swells in volume. It’s not very good music but Hope couldn’t care less; right now she’s much too involved in watching what the two women are doing to be getting judgmental about technical details.

After a few moments of this kissing and fondling Opal manoeuvres Veronica on to her back and kneels next to her. She plants a series of long, sensuous kisses on her neck and breastbone, then uses her mouth to pleasure the other woman’s breasts, kissing, sucking, licking and nibbling at them and raising Veronica, her hands now resting on the pillow above her head, to what looks like such a pitch of excitement that her face contorts with it and again she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, while her head shakes from side to side and her breath starts to come in gasps that are audible above the music.

One of Opal’s hands creeps down to caress Veronica’s belly, then moves further down, just brushing lightly against the cloth of her knickers on its way, to alight on her thigh, where her fingertips set to rhythmically stroking the sheer fabric of her stockings, up and down, up and down, up and down. Watching, Hope too is touching the insides of her own thighs, just there where the skin is at its softest and smoothest. She can almost feel the texture of the nylon. Up and down, up and down, and now Opal’s fingers are touching the bare skin above the stocking-tops, straying ever closer to the lacy black underwear Veronica is still wearing. Again her fingers brush against the fabric, but this time Opal, her mouth still feasting on Veronica’s breasts, slides her hand inside. Veronica gasps out loud. So does Hope.

After a moment inside Veronica’s lingerie, Opal’s hand comes out again. She raises her mouth from Veronica’s breast, which is slick with her saliva, and raises her fingers to her mouth. Slowly, deliberately, she licks them with the tip of her tongue while staring down at Veronica.

“You’re so wet,” she says. “I love that.”

Hope is wet, too. She watches in fascination as Opal shifts her position so that she is sitting between Veronica’s legs and then takes the cloth of her panties between the fingers and thumbs of either hand and tugs gently downwards. Veronica raises her hips to help her and then it’s easy for Opal to slide them down Veronica’s legs and off. She throws them over her shoulder on to the floor and puts one hand on each of the other woman’s thighs, spreading them wide and drinking in the view of Veronica’s exposed sex.

“That’s a nice tattoo you’ve got,” she says, her voice husky. “And a beautiful cunt, too,” she adds. The camera zooms in on her fingers as she reaches out to touch, very gently and delicately, opening up the folds as if it were some rare and fragile flower.

“So show me just how beautiful you think it is,” Veronica commands her. “Go on. Eat my beautiful cunt with that beautiful mouth of yours.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Opal says in a low voice, and bends her head between Veronica’s legs. She sticks her tongue out and runs it slowly and deliberately right up the groove of Veronica’s vagina, starting at the very back. Then she licks her lips and looks up at Veronica. “Yummy,” she says, and then, pausing only to loop her loose hair behind her ear, bends her head once more to bury her face in Veronica’s most intimate place. Using her fingers as well as her tongue and lips and nose, she quickly finds a rhythm that looks as if suits them both, lapping and nuzzling and stroking away until Veronica’s body is taut with excitement and anticipation and her hands are clamped into Opal’s hair. Without her realising it, Hope’s hand has found a rhythm of its own, gently stroking and caressing her own now saturated sex as she watches Veronica’s clutching hands pulling Opal’s face ever deeper into her pussy, grinding against her until, with her back arched and face contorted with lust, she climaxes with a long shuddering howl and draws her legs up so that Opal’s face is pushed away.

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