I’m Betty. I’m twenty-seven years old, a college graduate, a paralegal by trade, and a would-be artist and recently divorced. That’s about as much of my personal history that you need to know for the purposes of this story. As to what I look like, I’m five feet six; I have dirty blond hair and brown eyes. I have a decent figure. I’m not huge breasted or beautiful, although most do tell me I am attractive, at least they say that if they want to fuck me.
If a man wants to fuck me bad enough, he’ll probably tell me I’m beautiful and have haunting dark eyes. If he wants a blowjob he will likely say that I have a sensuous mouth. Of course, most people don’t say those things at all unless they are after sex. Friends usually tell me that I’m pretty and have a warm, happy face, but I think some of my friends want to fuck me.
I had a visit last Saturday morning from a friend of mine named Laura. We’ve known each other for years, since we were freshmen in college in fact, and she comes over to visit or asks me out about once a month. Laura always struck me as being a little unusual, but in a way that is hard to express. She’s pretty. She has light brown hair of a color that is often unflatteringly referred to as dishwater blond, in other words a little lighter than my hair at least in the highlights. She has lovely blue eyes and she is an inch or two taller than I am. Her breasts are a little smaller than mine, and she hides the rest of her figure behind loose clothing, or if she is wearing a dress, it is long and loose and comes down to her ankles. She is a librarian by profession and says she loves her job.
Anyway, she came over and we were sipping coffee while I was telling her about this book of illustrations that I was about to have published — my first publishing of anything actually. She had been gazing at me thoughtfully while I told her about it and finally she said, “Well, I think you deserve it, Betty, I’ve seen your drawings for years, and I think they’re wonderful.”
“Really?” I was extremely pleased, “You never said before.”
She crossed her legs — she was wearing an ankle length print dress today with flats, took another sip of her coffee and set down the cup on the end table beside her at the end of the couch. I was sitting across from her in an armchair. “Oh, I’ve always thought your drawings are beautiful, very sexy, in fact. I try not to look at them too often because they make me horny. Damn! I’m so horny today, too.” She shook her head at what I thought was almost a non sequitur. Perhaps she did too.
I mainly drew fantasy art; muscular men and women wearing scantily clad costumes, or no costumes, that sort of thing, so I could see how she might find them sexy. After all I worked pretty hard to make them look sexy, just as I worked hard to make my monsters seem scary. Although I wasn’t sure how, I felt the need to respond to her remark about horniness. “Well I certainly know where you are coming from. It’s been six months since my divorce. I guess it’s time I started to date or something.”
Fortunately, Laura was still on track with my art, “Not the men especially,” clarified Laura, still giving me that thoughtful look, “But your women are amazing. I mean, in most fantasy art the women have huge boobs, and yours rarely do, and even though they are muscular, they don’t look, you know, mannish.”
“And looking at them makes you horny?”
Laura shrugged, “Yeah, they sure do! And no, as far as I know, I’m not gay. I’ve only slept with a few men, but it’s only been men. For some reason, looking at women I consider attractive turns me on as much as looking at men that seem attractive. In fact, I think sexy women are more of a turn on. What about you?”
I was a little surprised to realize I’d never really thought of it that way, but… “Um, actually, I guess my pictures of women turn me on a little, too. After all, why else would I draw them that way?” I noticed Laura re-crossing her legs. She was practically fidgeting and she kept wriggling her ass like she couldn’t get comfortable.
She noticed me noticing her, “Sorry,” she said, “I get so horny sometime that I just can’t sit still. Would you mind terribly if I masturbated? As horny as I am, it will only take a few minutes.”
Never has a woman asked me that! I tried not to look as shocked as I felt. After all, the artist side of me wants to cultivate an image of being cosmopolitan and world-wise. “No, please go ahead. You can use my bathroom or even my bedroom if you like.”
“You’re so sweet, Betty, but I mean I want to do it here and now, on the couch, in front of you. Don’t worry, you don’t have to see anything.” Whereupon, she spread her legs slightly and began rubbing and squeezing her crotch right through her dress. “So, you were saying that you found your women to be attractive, too? Is it women with nicely muscled legs that you find sexy?”
For a moment, I couldn’t answer. I mean, there was a woman masturbating in front of me like it was something that happened all the time. I’m not like that. Other women I know weren’t like that. In fact, I don’t think I have heard a woman admit she masturbated, much less ask to masturbate in front of me — not that Laura had waited for my permission, and from the way she was looking at me so intently, it was clear that my watching her was an important part of her masturbation. I finally found myself just staring at the hand that was rubbing her crotch.
Laura cleared her throat and repeated, “Is it women with nicely muscled legs that you find sexy?”
Evidently Laura felt comfortable about what she was doing and intended to just continue the conversation. I felt pretty shocked and uncomfortable about it, but I was determined to pretend not to notice. “Yes, that’s a lot of it, although there is a lot to find beautiful about the female form like in the shape of the breasts as opposed to their size, and in the hips and waist… So you don’t find muscular men to be attractive?” I tried really hard not to look directly at where her hand was rubbing, but I couldn’t help but glance now and then, and since Laura seemed to be watching me intently, I know she noticed.
“Not really, at least not as much. In real life muscular men are usually too vain for my tastes, and sometimes they’re gay.” She was starting to sound a little breathless. “Did you know that I have legs a lot like your women?” Before I could answer she used her free hand to raise her skirt, all the way up to mid thigh. I was stunned, not just by her actions, but by her legs. They were shapely, beautiful, and rippling with musculature.
“Goodness!” I almost stammered, “I never had any idea you were hiding a body like that under your clothes! Why, they’re just gorgeous, Laura.” Her calves flattened against the couch as her muscles bunched making her calves look very wide, her breathing was practically panting now, and her face was turning pink, then red. Her blue eyes were still locked on mine and her mouth was parted. She licked her lips. Looking into her face as she began her orgasm, I felt as if I was participating in an incredibly lewd and lascivious act. My nipples were tingling and I had butterflies in my pussy making it twitch in sympathy with Laura’s naked lust as her mouth opened wider, her eyes still burning into mine.
“Oh!” she coughed, and then shivered. “Yes!” Her breathing deepened and she leaned back against the couch, taking her hand out of her lap, her skirt still carelessly pulled up to mid thigh. As she relaxed her legs spread a little more, but she still wasn’t showing me anything, and dammit I needed to stop looking, but her legs were so perfect, so sexy! I had never really noticed before, but Laura’s skin had a natural olive tone, almost like a tan that went everywhere. Obviously some Mediterranean blood that mixed strangely with her blond streaked light brown hair and blue eyes. I noticed the same color on her arms and neck. God! Her orgasm had been a sexy thing to watch!
She gave me a lazy smile as the color of her face slowly returned to normal. “Thanks so much, Betty. Doing that in front of you made it so much more intense. I love the way you looked at me, the way you’re still looking at my legs. Maybe you’d like to draw me sometime?”
I felt a little faint, “Uh, yes. Yes, that would be great, Laura. You would make a great model.” I sounded stupid and knew it and couldn’t stop looking at those beautiful legs. “Maybe you could wear shorts, or a swim suit, or something.”
Laura chuckled, “I don’t have either, so I guess I would have to pose nude. You’d like to have me pose nude, wouldn’t you, Betty?”
Of course I had painted from live nude models before in art courses, but it had never turned me on, at least not like this. I admit that nude women were attractive to look at, but… So I found it difficult to state the obvious truth, “Yes, nude would be great, Laura.”
Her breathing was nearly back to normal, but her intense blue eyes were still pinning me to my armchair like a butterfly on Styrofoam. “Have you ever had sex with another woman, Betty?”
“No, I mean, not really. Have you?” I swallowed. I’d never given sex with women much thought, but with those legs, if Laura made a pass at me, well, I was sure thinking about it now. After all, I was very horny myself after her slutty but extremely erotic display. “That’s right, you already told me that you haven’t had sex with women.”
“No, I never have,” said Laura, still smiling, “But I’ve thought about it a lot. You said not really, that means you have some experience perhaps?”
I could have lied, but I have this tendency to tell the truth. It is partly a desire to be honest, but I sometimes think it is laziness or perhaps even the inability to make up a good lie. In fact, when I had answered, I had completely forgotten about my ‘experience’ with a woman. “Oh, I was at a party and had a few too many drinks. I went outside to get a breath of fresh air — clear my head a bit. This woman was out there smoking a cigarette and we talked a few minutes then she kissed me, and just kept kissing me.”
“Did you enjoy her kissing?” asked Laura almost eagerly, “Did anything else happen?”
“Well yes, I thought she was a very sexy kisser. And her kisses were soft, pretty arousing, really,” I could feel myself blushing, but I made myself tell the truth, “She tasted like cigarette smoke, but it was sexy somehow. Honestly, I don’t think I have thought of it much since, but I enjoyed kissing her very much.”
“What did she look like?” asked Laura.
I shrugged, wondering at Laura’s curiosity, “She had reddish-brown hair, just a little taller than me, and green eyes. Um, let’s see,” I was trying to be thorough, “She had bigger breasts than mine, a really nice body, and long legs.” I squirmed a bit, “She was beautiful, okay. But it wasn’t that, I mean, it was her kisses that made me go all gooey.”
“And did anything else happen?” persisted Laura.
I sighed, and continued reluctantly, “She touched my breasts a while and then she put her hand under my dress. I let her touch me, you know,” I had to take a breath, “between the legs. Then I made her stop, and I went inside.”
Laura leaned forward, her lips slightly parted, “How long did you let her touch you between the legs.”
“Several minutes,” I admitted in a small voice, “Maybe five or six or seven. Maybe eight or nine. I’m not really sure. I think I was out of control at the time.”
“Was her hand inside your panties?” Laura asked softly, her blue eyes focused intently on mine. Her lips were open again.
“Yes,” I whispered. I so didn’t want to talk about this…
“Did you come?”
I didn’t answer but I nodded. I thought I could see sexual hunger in Laura’s eyes, now, or maybe I was projecting. I was very aroused, thinking about that night that I had all but blocked from my memory, and I had already been disturbingly turned on from Laura’s shocking display of masturbation. I looked down at Laura’s shapely legs. I was very aroused and getting so hot it was starting to make me breathe a little harder.
“Then what do you mean that you stopped her?” asked Laura with a grin. She spread her legs enough to let me see a little more thigh. “Sounds to me like you went all the way. Did you touch her?” Laura eased her right hand under dress, using her left hand to hold her dress down over her groin area. She was showing most of her curvy legs now and was obviously masturbating again. I could see her hand moving under the dress. I felt the urge to touch myself but resisted.
“I touched her some, but just outside her clothes.” I was really reliving the memory now; the taste of the woman’s kisses, the firmness of her breasts, and oh wonders! I could remember how her hand felt exploring inside my panties.
Laura swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, then continued her inquisition a little more hoarsely, “Where on her body did you touch her?”
“I felt her breasts, ran my hands over her back — that sort of thing.” I took a sip of coffee to moisten my throat, then murmured, “And I felt up her bottom pretty thoroughly while we were kissing. She felt really nice and firm, in all those places.” Was I just being honest or deliberately fueling Laura’s masturbation? I was so aroused that I wasn’t sure and I was in immanent danger of not caring. “Actually, Laura, she felt good, really good. I enjoyed touching her.” I glared back at Laura as if daring her to make something out of that. I was obviously loosing my mind.
“And you say you stopped her. What was she doing that you had to stop her?” Laura licked her lips and gave a grunt so tiny I almost didn’t hear it.
I tore my eyes from Laura’s crotch again, and found her blue eyes still locked on mine, “She held me in her arms while I was coming, but then she got down on her knees in front of me and started raising my dress,” I swallowed and took a breath, “That’s when I stopped her. That is, I stopped her after she kissed my panties once or twice.”
“Why? And exactly how many kisses were there on your panties?”
“Two or three,” I sighed, blushing, but I might as well admit it all, “But they were long kisses, very hot kisses, and I knew she was about to take my panties off, or pull them aside. So, I had to stop her!”
“But that must have felt wonderful, Betty. Why did you feel like you had to stop her?”
“Because just a few seconds later, I wouldn’t have had the will power,” I snapped, “Because we were at a party and anyone could come out any moment,” I shrugged, a little irritated at Laura as if she was being obtuse instead of inquisitive. “Besides I was married, and my husband was just inside. What would it have been like to have him walk outside and find me with my legs spread and woman’s head under my dress?” I felt a little angry at all her questions, although I sure didn’t have to answer them, yet I had, and I had done it knowing it was making Laura hotter.
“Well, say you weren’t under those restrictions, do you think you would have let her?” Laura leaned back with her hand working more energetically under her dress. “Well?” she prompted. She used her left hand to pull her dress up to her waist, revealing her pussy. She had dark brown pubic hair that looked very soft and fine, and a pink slit that was only partially covered by her right hand rubbing little circles around her clit. I could clearly see the pink-walled well of her vagina. Inside her pussy she was glistening with moisture. It looked very wet.
I had to shake my head to remember her question, “Oh, that. How would I know? Maybe I would have let her do anything she wanted or maybe I wouldn’t. Laura you are showing me your genitals.” It seemed like a spectacularly inane thing to say, but I said it.
“Yes,” she replied casually with that lazy smile, “I’ve wanted to show you my pussy for a long time. What are you thinking when you look at it.” Laura’s blue eyes were still staring into mine. Her cheeks had a rosy blush and her lips were slightly parted. She licked her lips and I thought she would orgasm again very soon.
“I’m mostly in shock, if you must know,” then I shrugged, “But I think it’s very pretty.” Then I realized more fully what she’d said — my thoughts were lagging for some reason. “Why have you wanted to show me that for years?” Why did I even ask? I knew the answer. And why oh why had I just told another woman that I thought her genitals were very pretty?
“Because I’ve always been attracted to you, Betty, and I’ve always wanted to see yours. Do you think you might show me yours sometime?”
I took a deep breath to get control of myself, tore my gaze away from her pussy, even though it really did seem lovely to me, and instead looked her in the eyes, “Laura, I had all but blocked that memory of that party from my mind. I don’t think I have a gay bone in my body, and while you are doing a pretty first rate job of seduction,” I couldn’t help but give another glance at her hand rubbing her clit, “I don’t really want to get into the sex thing with another woman.”
“Ok,” panted Laura, “But would you show me your pussy, please? I’d really love to see it.”
It was easily doable, I mean, I was wearing a fairly short skirt, and I could slip my panties off and spread my legs for her, but it seemed like giving in to something. It would make what she was doing more mutual. Laura was having sex right now, and at my expense in some way or another, but if I played along, I felt like WE would be having sex. So I refused. “Laura, really! I’d rather not.”
“That’s fine,” said Laura with a tight smile, “but I think you are really aroused from watching me, and I think you are very turned on from looking at my pussy, so it would really be a kindness to show me yours, too. Aren’t you very aroused right now, Betty?”
Sometimes trying to be an honest person can be really difficult, “Well, yes. All right. You win.” Even though I didn’t want to be a participant, I wanted much less to get further into a discussion about how aroused I was from watching her, so I gave in. I stood up to strip my panties down, sat back down and spread my legs for her.
“Wider please,” Laura was practically moaning. I could feel myself blushing already, but I obeyed and spread myself so she could get a good look at my brown haired bush, and from the cool air hitting my slit, I knew she could see inside me, at least somewhat. I used my hands to spread my lower lips a little more for her. I told myself that the sooner she came, the sooner this would stop. I tried hard not to admit that the lust Laura exhibited as she gazed inside my pussy wasn’t affecting me as well, but it was. Oh, it was!
“Oh, oh,” moaned Laura, “So lovely…” Laura was turning red again and obviously having another orgasm. She closed her eyes and groaned then grunted hard several times. “Huh, uh, Uh!” I was so turned on, it was very difficult to keep my hands off myself, so I busied myself pulling my panties back on and smoothing my dress. I knew I was still blushing when Laura opened her eyes and smiled at me. She dropped her own skirt back down around her ankles and said, “I really want to thank you for an intense sexual experience, Betty. I hope it didn’t embarrass you too much.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed,” I suddenly felt very shy, “but I would also be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy it some. I don’t know why, but that was very sexy, Laura. And frankly, you have just fantastic legs.”
“Do you think we could do that again sometimes?” asked Laura, leaning forward slightly, her lips slightly parted, “That was probably the best sex I ever had!”
I shivered, “I don’t think so. I mean it leaves me in kind of an awkward position…”
“How about next time I’m completely nude, and you can sketch me while I do myself.” Laura gave me a seductive smile, “If you liked my legs, I think you’ll like my body. I work out, you know…”
“Ok,” I swallowed, “Now you are really tempting me, but I’d still have the same problem — getting aroused and all…”
Laura stood and stepped forward and sank to her knees in front of my chair, “Don’t worry, Betty! Just close your eyes, and I will take care of that little problem for you.” She began reaching under my skirt for my panties. I froze in shock for a second as I realized her intentions. I can’t imagine why I raised my ass just enough for her to pull my panties off my hips.
“Oh no, please no,” I said almost frantically, yet too paralyzed to stop her as she drew my panties down to my ankles and slipped them off along with my sandals. “Besides, Laura, you said yourself that you’d never done anything like this…” She spread my legs and pulled my hips forward, her head arching down toward my groin. Why couldn’t I stop her? She gave me a long slow lick up my pussy, and I groaned. I couldn’t fight this, not as aroused as I already was. She fingered me and licked me as expertly as any boy, and maybe better. I just shook, shivered and moaned, as I got more and more excited. I knew my juices were really flowing because I could hear swallowing noises as she licked me.
Part of the reason I was getting so incredibly impassioned was that she was really terrific at doing this pussy-eating thing, or she was getting better at it as she went along. Mostly though, it was seeing Laura’s pretty face between my legs. I could see my pussy opening when she spread it with her tongue to admit most of her mouth between my thick outer lips, and watching her lock her mouth around my clit area while lashing my clit with the tip of her tongue. She was using two fingers to fuck in and out of my sloppy vagina at the same time. I came right in her mouth, that beautiful slurping, sucking mouth, and I felt her licking fluids from my vagina, which she then swallowed.
I thought it was over but she didn’t stop and before long I had wrapped my legs around her and was humping away at her mouth. I squirmed, I wriggled and I cried out. But the sex and pussy juice just didn’t stop. She didn’t release me until I had had three powerful orgasms, leaving me weak, limp and twitchy, but enormously satisfied. More satisfied than I’d ever been in my life! Curiously, I watched her as she straightened and sat back on the couch. She looked mildly troubled.
I finally thought to close my widespread legs, but I didn’t — leaving the cool air to sooth my savaged pussy. With a delicate cough, I asked, “Well that took care of my problem all right, but are you okay?”
Laura smiled brightly, “Oh yes, I just didn’t realize that I would like doing that so much. I mean, it’s something I had wanted to do for a long time, but I never thought…”
“I see,” but I wasn’t sure I did, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know. “Well I didn’t want you to do it, but you did it, and I have to admit that I haven’t ever had better sex. Hell, it was the best.”
Laura shrugged, still looking distracted, “I touched myself a little while I was you know, eating your pussy, and I came again. I never realized I would find it that sexy. Ka-Pow, you know? Now I’m going to have to go home and come to grips with the fact that I may be a lesbian after all.”
“You practically raped me,” I said dryly, “And you don’t hear me complaining.”
Laura laughed, “I’m not complaining, just a little confused. Tell you what? I’ll see you in a week or a month or so — however long it takes me to work things out. Thanks again for a wonderful morning, Betty, and I truly mean that! And Betty, we HAVE to do this again sometime. Maybe not the next time we meet, but sometime, okay?” She got up to leave and then turned back toward me at the door. “You know what you ought to do, Betty?”
“What?” I said, still feeling like a melted ice cream bar, still sitting as limp as a dishrag in the chair. My legs and pussy were still spread wide.
“You ought to look up that woman that you met at that party and let her have a go at that tasty pussy you’ve got.” And with that Laura was gone.
I still didn’t know exactly what had just happened here. I guess I was in a kind of wobbly-kneed, very sexually satiated state of shock. I really had not even thought of myself as being bi-sexual, much less gay, but I had just had a terrific sexual experience with another woman, and I knew in the deepest fiber of my being that I would like to do that again sometime. Maybe a lot of times, but then, I was surely still in shock. As shock goes, I sure felt wonderful, better than I had in a long, long time.
And what the hell did Laura mean by I ought to look up another woman? It was Laura, who went down on me, and it was Laura who had liked it while doing it to me. And apparently she liked doing it to me so much that it disturbed her a little, so maybe she should start looking up women. Then my indignation vanished as I realized that a woman had just seduced and had her way with me by only masturbating in front of me. So Laura was right. Laura may have her own problems, but I definitely had a side to myself that needed some honest exploring.
A few days went by, normal, working days. And while my strange experience had faded a little in intensity, I was still giving it a lot of thought. It had been a couple of years since I had seen Nancy Gatewood. I thought back to how easily Nancy had made me come in that backyard. It had always taken my husband quite a bit of time and effort to make me come. I knew she was married, and I knew that I had her and her husband’s phone number in my address book. But would they even still live there? Was she still married?
A couple of more days went by, and then one night while feeling particularly horny from thinking about the way that Laura had gone down on me, I decided to give Nancy a call. She seemed delighted to hear from me, and yes she was still married. I suddenly felt very awkward. I mean we had both been drinking quite a lot that night. Maybe she didn’t even remember what happened. How could I ask about something like that?
“Richard and I got divorced about six months ago,” I said, not sure where to go, “I mean it was finalized six months ago.”
“Oh no!” Nancy cried, sounding genuinely concerned, “how are you feeling, dear? Would you like some company? Do you need anything?”
I chuckled, “Oh I’m just great, thanks. I’ve firmly put that behind me already. But I wouldn’t mind your company sometime. After all, I haven’t seen you since that party at the Winston’s.”
“Oh yes, that,” she said in a quiet voice, “I was pretty tipsy, you know. I hope you don’t hold that against me.”
“I was pretty drunk myself,” I said, “But I don’t hold anything against you at all.” I had to pause, and she didn’t make a sound. I didn’t know what to say next. Maybe a little truth would help. I sighed, “To be honest, I tried to kind of forget about that, but I haven’t been able to… Maybe we could get together and talk about this. It’s kind of weird over the phone…”
There was another long pause, then in a tentative voice Nancy asked, “So you’re saying that your memories of that night were pleasant?”
“Ah, pleasant?” I giggled, “How about erotic? That would be closer, I think, and certainly not unpleasant.”
“It’s early yet,” she said casually, “and my husband is away on business. If you give me your address, I could come over now and talk about it.”
I gave her my new address, and as soon as she hung up, I wondered what I should wear. Feeling a little panicked, I hurried to my bedroom to change from my work clothes — slacks and a blouse. I took off my bra and panties, and then standing naked, I suddenly had no idea what to do. Did I have time for a shower? Probably. Nancy lived about forty-five minutes away. Hurrying, I showered as thoroughly as I could without getting my hair wet. I dabbed on a tiny amount of perfume, thought about it and added an extra tiny dab to my bush, then dressed in a medium skirt, a blouse and high heels. I didn’t bother putting on bra and panties. I felt like a slut, but looked pretty good in the mirror. About then, the doorbell rang.
I was glad that I had dressed up a little because Nancy breezed in wearing a lovely blue blouse and skirt combination that included stockings and heels. She was as beautiful as I remembered; just a little taller than me, lovely auburn hair, green eyes, vigorous up-thrust breasts and long shapely legs. She had that high-cheek bone, classic beauty softened by a slightly weak chin and a generous grin. She gave me a quick buss on the cheek and waved at my living room, “Where do you want me to sit, dear?”
“Anywhere you feel comfortable,” said feeling a little breathless at her sense of presence and her confidence, “I was just about to pour a glass of white wine; would you like some?”
“That would be lovely,” she answered brightly, heading for the center of the couch right where Laura had sat a few days ago, “Would you mind if I smoke indoors?”
“Not at all,” I called out from the kitchen, “There’s an ash tray on the coffee table.” I really didn’t care if she smoked, several of my friends did; besides, I still had fond memories of the taste of her mouth after smoking. I thought about mentioning that to her, but didn’t.
I handed her a glass of wine and took my same seat across the coffee table from her. I hoped I knew what I was doing with the placement of our bodies. I know there is something of a science or art to that sort of thing, but I knew nothing about it. “It really is so wonderful to see you again, Nancy,” I said, making a toasting motion with my wine glass. After a sip, I set the glass on the table. “You know, there is something mildly erotic about watching a woman smoke.”
She toasted me back, tapped ashes into the ashtray, and then as casually as if she were discussing the weather, she said, “Did you mean it when you said that you didn’t hold my bad-girl behavior against me? I mean, I guess I came on pretty strong that night.”
I shrugged, “I was startled that was for sure, but I let it happen, too.” I paused, “I had never done anything like that with another girl before, but I’m afraid I pretty much enjoyed it. I’ve tried to forget about it, but…” I shook my head. How could I say what I felt when I wasn’t even sure what that was? “I mean, I have been remembering it lately and with some degree of interest — er, pleasant interest, that is. Have you ever, you know, done that sort of thing before?”
She gave me what I interpreted was a naughty smile, “Not since being with my college roommate. Actually, you remind me of her, only in a physical way you understand, but that was a powerful lure for me. In fact, it has made me horny every time I have ever seen you. I thought I had put all that behind me, but that night in the garden, I knew I hadn’t and I guess I just acted on my feelings. You’re very attractive, you know, Betty.”
“So are you, Nancy,” I swallowed, thinking she wants to have sex again with me right now, but things are moving a little fast again. “Uhm, would you share the roommate story with me?”
She picked up the cigarette she had put out and re-lighted it, “I’ve never told anyone else about this, but since I picked you because you look a lot like her, I guess you have a right to know. It’s a little embarrassing though…” She took a couple of puffs while assessing me, then continued, “Maybe if you came over here to sit beside me — I mean, sitting across from me seems more confrontational than intimate, and believe me, this is an intimate story.”
I walked over and joined her, suddenly very conscious that I hadn’t worn any panties or a bra. I wondered if I really wanted to have sex with her, and was just now admitting it to myself, but it was a crazy idea, and now I find out she had only made a pass at me because I reminded her of someone else. It made me feel a little less special, a little more reserved, but I resolved to hear out the story anyway. Besides I must want to have sex with her, why else would I have spotted my bush with perfume?
Nancy gave me a gentle squeeze on the knee, and then started, “Jen and I had lived together for a couple of months, and we got along all right. So I was pretty unprepared when she suddenly did something pretty extreme. She came back to our dorm room one Saturday night with a guy. Not that unusual in itself, I guess, but she didn’t ask me to leave or anything.”
“You mean they…” my eyebrows soared as I realized what she was telling me.
“Yes,” answered Nancy with seeming detachment, “They just stripped their clothes off and started fucking like bunnies. Not that they ignored me, exactly, I mean the fellow winked at me occasionally, and Jen would just grin at me like the Cheshire cat. Hell she had her eyes on me practically the whole time. And they got it on seriously, too. Position after position, changing it every few minutes, fucking this way and that, and always with Jen peeking at me slyly to see if I was enjoying the show. In half an hour, there wasn’t a single inch on either of their bodies that I hadn’t gotten a really good look at.”
“Wow,” I shook my head trying to imagine, “What were you doing all that time? Did they want you to join in or something?”
“I don’t think so, at least, they didn’t say so,” Nancy shrugged, “I got the feeling the guy was maybe a little unsure of what was going on, but as for Jen, she was obviously enjoying me as an audience. I knew in my guts that she had done all this just to get me to watch. As for me, I just sat there, on the edge of my bed, watching them not three feet away. I could even smell them: the pussy smell, the dick smell, and the sex smell when you mix the two. At one point, Jen was squatting over him and using her legs to pump up and down on his dick, and she pointed to their groins and licked her lips while looking me straight in the eye. It was an amazingly lovely sight, and I will freely admit that it aroused me a great deal.”
Nancy sighed and shrugged again, “No one had ever behaved around me like that before, but that wasn’t the strangest part at all.”
“So?” I prompted, “What was the strangest part?”
“I liked it. No, more than that. I was terrifically excited about what I was looking at, which was a young girl acting like a sexually depraved beast, a wanton, a slut or something. I felt immensely attracted to her, and I think she knew it as well. Then after he had come a second time, he left. She stretched out naked on her bed, her legs still spread wide, and went to sleep, or I thought she was asleep. After a couple of minutes, I stood and leaned over her to take a close look at her stretched out pussy with white drops of semen dripping out of it. Without opening her eyes, she told me I could suck the come out of her pussy if I wanted.”
“Did you?” I was on the edge of my seat, and had hardly remembered that Nancy’s hand was still on my knee. What an intense story!
Nancy spread her hands palms up, “Before that night, I had never had a sexual thought about another female; I swear it! But yes. I did it. I licked and sucked her clean. She didn’t move, in fact I was pretty sure she went to sleep for real while I was doing it. His spunk was still warm from being in her pussy, and there was plenty of pussy juice in there, too. She woke up several times and would smile at me or touch my hair. So I kept licking her pussy and rubbing my face in it. After about half an hour she started getting juicy again. She woke and told me to finger her and lick her clit. I did until she came. Then she went back to sleep.”
Nancy put her hands on her breasts, sighed and closed her eyes a moment before she resumed, “I don’t know what came over me, I couldn’t stop licking in her pussy until I put my hand on myself and made myself come. I swear I never even thought of women that way before that night.”
“Mercy!” I fanned my face which I could feel was blushing. It seemed like such a shocking story to me for some reason. For some reason, I kind of missed the warmth of her hand on my knee. “So what happened next?”
Now for the first time, Nancy blushed, “The next night was a Sunday, so she didn’t have a date, and we usually turned in fairly early on Sundays because of early Monday classes. Instead of putting on pajamas like she usually did, she just stripped naked. I already had my pajamas on and she came over and took them off me. She told me that she would like me to make love to her on nights when she didn’t have a date. She started kissing me and put her hand between my legs and felt me up until I came. Then she stretched out on her bed and told me I could start by kissing her all over. Then she rolled over so I would start on her back, and her backside, by the way.”
Nancy gave me a piercing look, “Oh, and when she felt me up and made me come — I had the most terrific orgasm ever.” She put her hand back on my knee, “How was yours that night in the garden?”
I felt off guard at the change in subject, “It was wonderful, but being as drunk… I don’t know, but it was really nice.” I put my hand on top of hers — the one she had on my knee, and gave her hand a little squeeze, “Go on, please.”
Nancy put out her cigarette again, “When Jen said kiss her all over, she really meant all over, every inch of her body. She had me kiss and lick between each toe, and she insisted that I lick her bottom and her armpits — she insisted I not miss an inch, and I didn’t. Only after I had done that would she let me lick her pussy. She didn’t touch me again either that night. She just waited until I made her come twice, and then she went to sleep. Our whole relationship was like that from then on. I developed a deeper and deeper craving for her body, and she would let me worship it, but she rarely returned favors. She went down on me exactly twice in the next two years before she moved out. She would often ask me to lick and poke her bottom with my tongue, so I learned to like doing that too. Sometimes she would take me in the bathroom and pee on me…”
“That sounds so terrible!” I felt so sorry for Nancy, and I wasn’t all that pleased that I looked like this cold person she had met in college. Nancy’s hand squeezed my knee and I thought she was looking at my breasts. I glanced down — my nipples were clearly pressing against my blouse so she did indeed have something to look upon.
“In a way,” said Nancy raising her eyebrows thoughtfully, “But the fact is, I had a sexual thing for her, and she just didn’t care about me in the same way. But she did care about me as a friend. So in a way, she was being very generous. I think that is the way she thought of it — being charitable. Of course, I am definitely not interested in a repeat of that relationship in any sense, but when I look at you, well…” She blushed a little; “I just have an automatic response in my body. I get so turned on…”
“But pissing on you?” I was afraid I got a little stuck on that. “Why would any person humiliate another person that way?”
Nancy’s blush deepened, “Well maybe it wasn’t like that exactly. It was something she really liked to do — really fill up on beer, tea, or even water, and then we would lay naked in the bathtub with our legs all tangled and rubbing against each other, and then she would just let go. It seemed a lot more erotic at the time than it sounds at the moment. Sometimes it was different and she would want to pee on my face or my breasts, and sometimes she had me pee on her. Please understand. She was finding what pleasure she could to give herself the excuse to be with me. She knew I loved her, and she was as generous as she could be about it with her time and her body, until she just left.”
I felt an outpouring of sympathy for the woman and said, “Well, let me tell you how what you did to me in that garden affected me.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “A truly beautiful, sophisticated woman began kissing me in a garden, and even though I didn’t think about women that way, I just melted in her arms while she gave me a really sweet orgasm. I loved every minute of it, and even though I felt guilty and a little dirty about it, I still can’t think about it without enjoying the memory.”
“Thank you,” she said, her green eyes staring into mine, “it would sure be my pleasure to give you another one right now.” She moved her face so slowly to mine that I had an eternity to turn away from her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Her kiss was soft as a butterfly, and as slow as honey. My breath was coming faster well before she parted her lips enough to give my lips a slow lick. She eased one arm around my shoulders and used her other hand to gently stroke my aching hard-nippled breasts. When she at last began to slowly French kiss me, her mouth tasted like wine and cigarettes and that made me want sex from her more than ever.
“Even it is a triggered body response to your looks, Betty,” she whispered in my ear after licking it, “I have so much desire for you that I am already on the verge of coming in my panties.” She went back to kissing my mouth and exploring the inside of my mouth with her tongue, making me breathe harder and harder through my nose. Her hand slipped down from my breasts and snaked between my legs to stroke my pubic hair. At the realization that I wasn’t wearing panties, she shivered and gave a little grunt, “Umph,” right into my mouth.
Still kissing me, her arm drew away and I felt her fingers expertly unbuttoning my blouse. I put my arms around her neck and felt her spreading my blouse and slipping it away. Of course, I had to let go of her neck to get the blouse off, but I just went on letting myself drown in the deep pool of her delicious kissing. She licked the underside of my tongue. I sighed at my sense of loss when her mouth left my lips for my breasts, but the hot warmth of her wet mouth on my nipples made up for it. Not that I’m usually wild about having my breasts kissed and licked. But now I discovered that it didn’t have to be like a calf going after his mom’s udder. Nancy’s licks and sucks were incredibly light and subtle and for the first time I realized that I could have terrific sexual feelings through my breasts.
I was wet enough now that I felt like I was sitting in a puddle and probably was, but when she started slipping off my heels and unzipping my skirt, I stopped her, “Nancy, could we just slow down a little.” As much as I wanted her, I was feeling a little overwhelmed. My hands were shaking, and I realized I still wasn’t psychologically prepared to have sex with a woman, although God knows Laura did a wonderful job on me the other day, but I did feel like I needed a delay. “Maybe you could undress yourself for me?”
She shook her auburn hair and stood, looking me in the eye and smiling. She seemed pleased, although I wasn’t sure why, until I realized that I had just asked a woman to show me her body. Inside myself I shrugged. At least I had gotten the delay I wanted and the panic that had started to build inside me was receding. I felt like such a contrary bitch watching Nancy unbuttoning her blouse and removing her black lacey bra. Her breasts were fairly large, much bigger than mine, with extremely pale pink nipples and aureoles — barely darker in color than the surrounding white skin. She unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt and let it fall.
Nancy was now wearing only a black lace garter to support her black silk stockings and some lacey black panties, and of course her heels. She kicked off her shoes, pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. She had a lovely auburn bush, lightly trimmed on the sides. I couldn’t help but stare between her legs while she peeled off the garter and hose. She was pale and statuesque like some kind of goddess of love. I expected her to jump back on me, but she didn’t. She stood there, showing herself to me, one hand on her hip and the other tweaking at her nipples that quickly grew much larger and longer and slightly darker. “Do you approve?” she asked with a little grin.
“Who wouldn’t?” I said seriously. I had never really been attracted to a woman as a sexual object until Laura beat off in front of me, and even now when confronted by Nancy’s voluptuous gorgeousness, I’m not sure how I would go about playing with such a toy, but damn, she sure looked hot! If I allowed this sex with women thing to go much further, I knew I would soon be facing decisions about eating pussy, and while I had so far discovered that I liked women to do it to me, what if I was like Jen? It still seemed unnatural to me, but then so had sucking a dick at first.
Over the years I had learned to like going down on a man. It gave me a sense of power over him that I didn’t get as much of from surrendering to a fuck, although I got some of it back when I would ride on top — that was my favorite position with men. I thought again about how Nancy had described the way Jen had looked riding her boyfriend — yeah, a woman could look really good like that!
Did I get anything sexual out of going down on a man? I guess the giving kind of thing — there is a sexual element in that. Would it seem the same to eat pussy? I mean, I could see letting women eat my pussy all day long without feeling like I was really even bisexual. Well, maybe a little since it seemed more exciting to be eaten by a woman than by a man. But I couldn’t help thinking that I would be bi or gay if I returned the favor — especially if I really liked eating pussy. That fact had seemed to shock even Laura, I remembered.
Thinking these things and staring at Nancy’s glorious nude figure, I suddenly realized I was losing the edge on my lust. I loved it when Nancy kissed me, so I needed to get more of that to stop thinking so analytically. I stood up and put my arms around her neck and drew her to me. Somehow the sweet dear got the message and took over again, and soon I was dizzy with the deliciousness of her warm kisses and the wonderful feeling of her generous pale breasts pressed against mine. I hardly noticed her slipping my skirt off since she didn’t stop kissing me. It was something of a surprise to notice her auburn mound pressed against my thigh, impossible to ignore it the way she was undulating her hips on my leg.
At the same time her left thigh pressed between my legs, and one moment we were just kissing naked, and the next we were passionately embraced and humping each other like a dog on a man’s leg. Pardon the humorous comparison, for there was nothing funny about the way it felt. One minute we’re just kissing and the next we’re having sex, and it felt terrifically good. The wetter our pussies got, the slicker and more intense the fucking sensation. It should be obvious why it felt good — I mean rubbing my pussy against a warm yet silky smooth-rounded-pliant surface, a warm and wet thigh and getting wetter — it felt divine. What was not so obvious was why her pussy rubbing against my thigh felt almost as good. She cupped my butt cheeks in her hands and started thrusting herself harder against me. I really got a rush out of that, too.
We stood there like that another minute or two, kissing, breathing hard, rubbing pussies on each other, when suddenly Nancy tore her lips from mine and whispered in my ear, “I have to have you in my mouth.”
I had no longer had any objections to that at all. I wanted her to go down on me and was looking forward to it. “How do you want me?” I whispered meekly.
Nancy’s green eyes flashed, “Do you mind just standing here?” Her breathing was quick and I could tell she was terrifically excited. I responded with a peck on her lips and spread my feet a little wider apart. Gratefully, Nancy sank to her knees and embraced my hips the way she had been holding me around my shoulders earlier. I had to spread my legs a little wider to accommodate her sliding her body between them then I felt her mouth lock on to my pussy with a passionate kiss. My hips trembled with pleasure as I felt her tongue exploring me inside while her hands ran up and down my legs, cupping my bottom, her tongue and her fingers going everywhere, exploring me, feeling me inside and out.
I looked down and could only see her auburn hair, forehead and green eyes as the rest of her face was beneath my groin and looking up. I jumped a little as I felt her tongue slide lasciviously over my asshole and began to even explore me even in there. I wasn’t sure what to make of this at first, but my bottom quickly warmed in the center as her tongue slid in and out, and I decided that I really did like having my bottom tongue-fucked. I found myself squatting slightly to encourage her tongue to go even deeper. Nancy evidently had a strong and a surprisingly long tongue — it filled me wonderfully! I began moving my hips in little thrusts in reaction to her butt-fucking tongue.
A trifle sooner than I would have liked, she went back to licking and slurping in my pussy. I knew I had a tendency to get pretty wet when excited and Nancy must have loved this, judging by the wet noises and swallowing and the way she would wriggle her face into my pussy like she was trying to crawl up inside me. When she focused on my clit and began to give it rapid little licks, I felt like I was flying away, surfing on a wave of pleasure that soared higher and higher until it was all in me from my toes to my scalp and whirling, and diving and mixing. At some point during my powerful orgasm, my balance or my legs must have given out, because when I started to return to normal, I was on the couch leaning back, my hips making fucking thrusts against Nancy’s lovely face.
Panting, my lungs demanding more air, I gently pushed her face away — I just couldn’t take any more exercise and my clit was suddenly hypersensitive. Nancy, moved up beside me, and was gently touching me, rubbing lightly at my shoulders, touching my breasts, and stroking my arms. When my breathing had slowed to almost normal, she kissed me, sweetly and softly. Gratefully, I kissed her back, whispering how wonderfully she had made love to me. I even enjoyed the scent of my pussy on her face and mouth, and I found myself wishing that Laura had kissed me afterwards. I felt psychologically totally unprepared to confront the need to return the favor, and Nancy knew it because she assured me that all she needed was a minute to take care of herself. But I couldn’t let her do that, not after the story about Jen.
I knelt on the floor in front of her and spread her thighs. I spread her pussy lips with my fingers and examined what I saw. Nancy was definitely an outty, with parts of her pussy hanging down between and below the outer lips. She was fleshy with lots of curls and folds but it was clear which hooded area hid her clitoris. She was pink inside, deepening to a brick red near her vagina, a rough edged hole that seemed too small. She was wet inside and I licked at her, feeling the textures, the smells and the taste. She was a little salty around the edges, and she had a strong woman smell with just the slightest hint of pee. I was surprised that I wasn’t really repulsed by the smell, but I wasn’t excited by it either. In any case, my nose got used to it because it seemed to go away the more I licked.
Or I licked the smell away — I wasn’t sure which although now I know the answer to be a bit of both. I licked the inner lips separate from the outer lips until I had explored all her lovely textures and sorted out the folds. The clear, nearly tasteless lubricating fluid that leaked from her vagina drew me to lap at it and swallow — it was like a very mildly sweet oil that I quickly decided was delicious. I eased a finger and then two into her vagina producing even more of the delightful fluid to enjoy between her smooth pale thighs. Then responding to her whispered entreaties of ‘please, please’, I dipped my tongue one more time in her wet tunnel and used the juice to lubricate the upper areas of her slit.
I concentrated on the hooded area, my tongue flicking inside occasionally to encounter a tiny bud, and I let my front teeth scrape gently on the surface of the hood. I guess I found what Nancy liked because she was going wild now, heaving and moaning, her fingers curled in my hair and tugging at my head. I kept it up until her climax had slowed to the point she was becoming over sensitive. I rose and sat beside her and we kissed; a long delicious kiss with both of our faces smelling pleasantly of pussy. I was happy that I had made Nancy come so well, and I was more than a little proud of myself at the way I had managed to eat pussy for the first time. But at the same time, I really felt a little disappointed for some reason. Maybe I wasn’t lesbian material after all, which gave me a little sense of relief mixed with a mild dismay.
Nancy begged me to let her ‘do’ me some more, so I lay down on my tummy and let her have her way with my bottom which I was learning to enjoy enormously. She licked and tongue-fucked my asshole for quite a lovely while before slipping her fingers down to my pussy to finger fuck me with one hand while playing with my clit with the other. My butt was now high in the air with Nancy’s long pointed tongue deep in my ass as she used her hands to fuck and diddle me into a fantastic orgasm. Having re-excited herself again, Nancy then fucked my bottom cheeks with her pussy until she had another orgasm — it didn’t take very long. Then we just held each other in our arms for a while, talking softly and occasionally kissing sweetly.
Nancy soon dressed and left, both of us promising future get-togethers, which would very probably happen, but still my feeling of disappointment lingered. I remembered how Laura had been so affected. Laura had said she hadn’t expected to like it so much after eating my pussy. But that didn’t happen to me with Nancy. Oh, I was pleased enough with having pleased Nancy, but it hadn’t been the labor of love that I had hoped for — then I was surprised at myself for wanting such a thing. It was a lot of how I felt about going down on a penis the first time. I had over time, learned to like giving head. Was I going to have to learn to enjoy eating pussy?
Was I not straight or gay? What was wrong with me? Oh, I could get plenty sexually excited at the thought of a woman making me come — oh yes, I loved that part of it. But I felt there was an empty place inside of me that needed a desire, a lust to give. I wanted to feel attracted to and fascinated by pussy. I wanted to be sexually aroused by pussy if I was going to continue to explore my bisexual side, otherwise I might as well go back to men. So I decided to go back to men and see what that was like now. It felt like I was discovering sex all over again.
I wasn’t even sure what I was complaining about. I mean I loved women going down on me, and at least I didn’t mind going down on them. I resolved to get to know myself better, because for the time being, I felt so confused as to feel useless to myself or anyone else.