I can’t believe I’m smitten by her. Me, a thirtyish professor of psychology at a prestigious liberal arts college—smitten—of all things, by a young counter girl just out of high school.
“May I help you, Miss?” she asked in an inviting tone. I stood silent and frozen, staring like a cougar. In her early twenties, the young counter girl looked like an angel. Almost old enough to be her mother, I felt stupid.
After the usual pleasantries, I gathered my keys and belongings, heading to my room. Reaching my room, I sighed, waiting for my lover and considering my life over the past year. We took the trip to spend some quality time away from the hustle of academia. I looked forward to sleep, hours of sleep…
and of course, hours of sex.
I’ve always known I’m gay, but I locked my secrets away at a young age. My parents burned the entire conservative protestant dogma into me like a brand, making it impossible for me to consider any other public option except the pretense of heterosexuality. Good Christian girls weren’t gay, and given a choice between heaven or hell, I steadfastly chose heaven.
“Will you marry me?” Damn, I said yes, marrying Bernard twelve years ago in a vain attempt at normalcy.
“What the Fuck!” he yelled. The poor guy, it upset him so when I came out, but at least now we can carry on a reasonable conversation. I’m sure he knew a few screws rattled in my head, and a loony bin waited for me around the next corner. I rarely fucked him, drinking when I did.
Even after masturbating regularly for twelve years, I basked in a public denial, making my mental state a mess. I even tried believing my lies, saying I loved Bernard, but we both knew otherwise. I fooled no one. My body wanted women—my mind couldn’t cope with the world knowing a lesbian existed in my body.
No kids resulted from the difficult union. I didn’t own the desire for a baby after what happened to produce my only pregnancy. Losing my virginity in a very miserable manner, I feared sex with a male. The hymen breach of that male’s penis resulted in a deep wound. I later miscarried the child. The rape left me paralyzed with fear, and I found myself institutionalized for six weeks. Finding Zoloft, and a few years later, vodka, I existed for years in a broken state of equilibrium.
Most refer to me as plain, with long black hair. I’m a bit taller than the average woman and keep my figure fit with daily workouts at the gym with my friend, Rachel. Fortunately, I have no weight problem and consider my legs and bum my best assets. They’re pretty sexy for a frumpish professor.
I have a frightening scar running across my left wrist, covered by my watch. The scar resulted from an attempted suicide at eighteen. Yes, it was because of the aforementioned rape and loss of the baby.
My lesbian experiences before the freshmen amounted to fooling around in a few sleepovers at my best friend’s house in high school. The nights with Jaime left me uncomfortably happy, and I looked forward to staying with her often. I still think back to those first few nights of exploration with fondness and a twinge of guilt.
One might think I’d accepted my queerness and the entire public identity issue. It would’ve saved many people much heartache. I later found out Jaime was queer like me. We’re still good friends.
I guess you might have a little idea about who I am, one fucked up college professor, screwed on so many levels. This story is going to help me sort it out, but not many will care. I mean, it’s not like a great opus or anything. It’s certainly not going to make old Hemmingway wake from the dead. Perhaps some secretive lesbian will read it, and it may help her.
The Seduction Begins
One Year Ago
“Hey Teach,” said Laura, as she walked her shapely ass in the room, followed closely by her girlfriend, Stacey.
“Oh gawd,” I thought, as a queer little bug chewed my pussy. The freshmen entered my Psych 101 class holding hands, oblivious to the scrutiny of their classmates. Their beauty didn’t help the chewing; lovely hair and glowing skin made them desirable. Laura, tall and thick, was absolutely the most breathtaking female on the face of the earth, with a curvy body and long blonde locks ending below her breasts.
The other teen, Stacey, was about my height, and possessed an exotic countenance that suggested an aristocratic lineage. Slender yet muscular, she moved with grace and dignity, bearing smallish breasts no larger than a teacup.
Unable to keep my eyes off the two, I delivered my lectures in a sotto voce, which differed from my usual professor speak. I realized my frustration resulted from jealousy. Jealousy because these two kids admitted their lesbianism brazenly. Looking at the two affected me, causing pain and excitement, stirring a long quashed lesbian sex gene. Regretting time lost in the heterosexual world, I questioned my sorry life, considering happiness never found.
As the weeks passed, the girls flirted with me when leaving the room. Starting with innocent looks and giggling, and then progressing to lustful scrutiny. I found myself masturbating in the bathroom each night, fantasizing about the undergraduates. The semester progressed from winter to spring, and I wore out many batteries in my vibrator.
Laura made the first move, having correctly read my strained lectures as a sign of attraction. She did it simply, waiting until all the other students left the class while she lingered.
She glided straight up to me and boldly propositioned, “How ’bout a threesome?”
This removed every bit of air from my lungs, leaving me speechless, a problem for a professor. I fixated on her like a scared kitten, trembling with fear while inhaling her perfumed scent. Finally, I shook my head. She lifted her hand and lightly stroked my cheek with the back of her nails. Tearing into me with piercing blue eyes, she said, “Don’t be scared, Teacher.” Then she turned and walked away. “The day will come when I eat your pussy,” she called back, flipping her blonde mane while walking toward the door and lifting her short blue-jean skirt, exposing a thick naked bum.
“Christ,” I whispered, under my breath, an expression she heard, because her hand slapped her ass loudly. My comfortable ivory-towered world crumbled, and I spent a restless week wondering about sex with the girls.
Sex? Carnal love? Neither bothered me, but accepting my lesbianism terrified me. My mind still couldn’t accept a public image that didn’t include heterosexuality. Lesbianism didn’t fit the structure of my religiously bent world.
For some decadent reason, I looked forward to the next class session. I recognize now that the sexual flirtation of the two young women freed my heterosexual burden. The thought of going public with my lesbianism never entered my mind, but I believed it might be possible to take a female lover in secret.
Drinking heavily each evening, I drowned most of my doubt in vodka. The drinks eased the discomfort temporarily, although the angst returned in the morning with a hangover that left me abandoned in a forced psychological reversal. Looking at my puffy face in the mirror one morning, I realized alcohol and thoughts of sex ruled my every waking moment.
The next week the girls continued to tease during class, holding hands and giving each other little pecks on the cheek. As class dismissed, Laura lingered until the other students left. She approached me directly, invading my personal space. Moving in, she placed her hand underneath her short pink dress and rubbed. Her blue eyes burned into me as she stroked something under her dress. She fondled her firm breasts beneath a tight tank top. I tried backing away and bumped into the lectern. She took a single step forward, and then lifted her hand to her mouth and blew me a kiss. Her fingers glistened with juice, and I focused on the digit and decomposed. Excited in a way I never felt, my knees buckled and every cell in my body pulsed. Laura’s beauty defied words and realizing she wanted me violated my warped view of self.
“Today?” she asked.
Red and breathless, savoring a level of eroticism never experienced, I paused and considered the offer. Foolishly, I shook my head, while wanting to say yes. She turned and walked away while saying, “I’ll get you. I get my gals.” Turning to face me at the door, she lifted her skirt, showing a purple dildo haltered around her waist. She put her skirt back down, and said, “Yours for the taking.”
I almost passed out as she turned around and left. My cheese not only moved, but melted into sauce fit for a queen.
It took me about ten minutes to recover my composure as passionate thoughts for the girls raced through my mind. I felt no love for the two, just a deep painful lust for pussy. Feeling warmth in my panties, I thought about a place to masturbate. The faculty rest room came to mind, although, as I soon found out, my private office was a smarter choice.
My Hand is My New Best Friend
Entering the faculty lounge, I turned toward the one person restroom and bumped into my colleague’s tits. Rachel looked at me, and asked, “Are you okay? You look flushed.” The strong woman was one of my dearest friends in the department and a few short years older than me. I didn’t realize the depth of her concern indicated something life changing for my future.
“Feeling a little ill…something I ate,” I said, and then gave her a wink. Closing and locking the restroom door, I removed my matronly dress, hanging it on the rack behind the door. Removing my panties and bra, I hung the bra on the rack and searched for a place to put my panties. Not finding any place sufficient, I cast them on the floor. “What am I doing?” I thought while standing in front of the mirror fondling my breasts. The relief of my touch caused a purr to slip from my mouth—the purr graduated a few minutes later to a roar.
My hands trailed from breasts to thighs, lightly tickling my skin. I paused momentarily, closing my eyes and lifting my hands to caress my face. Thinking of the satisfaction of the coed’s tongues on my breasts—and Laura’s dildo in my pussy, I softly moaned, “Kiss me Laura. Lick me, fuck me, fuck me.”
Sitting on the toilet, I moved my right hand across my body to my pussy; I placed the thumb and index finger on my clit and stimulated the creamy bud. I took my left hand and touched the stiff, black, curly hairs between my legs for a few seconds. Feathering my fingernails from my pussy to my breasts, I squeezed, enjoying sweet pain.
With a small sound, the cooling breeze of the central air wafted through the room, and I smelled the mushroomed scent of my womanhood. Leaning back, I spread my legs, easily sliding the middle finger deep inside my pussy. I stroked for a few seconds, and then lifted the finger to my mouth, savoring my juice and wishing it was Laura’s. Tickling my tongue with my finger, I sensed an orgasm with my touch—a touch I knew with expertise.
My velvet spoke in want of the need for my fingers, begging in a silent prayer. My fingers became a savior as they sated a sinner’s need. The shock of the fingers entering my pussy sent stinging bites through my body. Stroking with conviction for several minutes, my climax readied for forgiveness. Stroke, stroke, stroke—kiss me Laura, fuck me!
I lifted my ass upwards and strained to keep from screaming. Orgasm …glorious rapture …orgasm …orgasm …orgasm!
Resting my butt back to the seat, I continued my stroking as tingles of excitement trembled through my pussy. Increasing the pace, I masturbated with blinding speed.
I slipped a second, and then a third finger in my folds as ripples ran through the darkened cove. My right hand blurred in flight atop my clit, while my left stroked into my soaking pussy. Stroke, stroke, stroke. Kiss me Laura, fuck me!
An explosion welled within me, and I tensed, placing my legs on the floor and back against the top of the toilet.
Lifting, I screamed in a whisper, “Kiss, lick, fuck…Laura!” while discharging cream on my hand. Closing my legs around my hand, I continued stroking as waves blessed my body. My hands stopped stroking as the feeling became too much, and I pushed my ass down against the toilet seat, screaming a final, “Fuck,” while shaking in a hailstorm and holding my breath.
Fuck me Laura, kiss me!
I’m your bitch, Laura. Fuck me. Shove your tongue in my pussy! Kiss. Lick. Fuck!
Without a touch on my pussy, another orgasm erupted, producing a shock so large Edison found his maker. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Leaning back into the porcelain comfort of the top of the toilet, I rested until the tremors ended.
After resting, I thought, Elvis has just left the building, and laughed at my stupid pun. Feeling a little better, I lifted my wet hands to my mouth and licked each finger clean, savoring my wine as if heaven brought me Manna.
Then it clicked, turning a tide that would never return. “I’m going to love the coeds. I’m going to let Laura put her dildo in my pussy. I’ll suck Stacey’s titties, and I’ll love the two with abandon.”
I don’t know why at that particular moment I decided to let those two teens take me. Perhaps it involved the years of denial and my own frustration of never being sexually intimate with anyone—perhaps the queer within freed her tortured soul. It didn’t matter. I must…must…must, and I did…did…did.
Being the neurotic type, I couldn’t believe the two girls wanted me. At least my tits were still up, and my ass pretty tight for a senior citizen in her thirties. Someone banged on the rest room door, which was like throwing a cold bucket of water on a rabbit in heat. I rose and dressed, throwing my bra in my valise. Pausing to check my long black hair pulled back in a bun, I sighed, thinking the face in the mirror wasn’t mine. Fortunately, for the person who was banging on the door, I didn’t look too shaken for a sex-starved fool.
Someone knocked at the door again, “Jenine, are you all right, are you sick or something?” It was Rachel, my sexy friend.
“Yes, just sick at my stomach,” I said, not actually lying.
I patted my face with water, toweled off, and then unlocked the door to face the music of my nosy friend.
“What the hell is going on in there? You look pale.”
“I threw up Rachel, might not want to go in there right now. It smells pretty bad.”
Rachel owned a wonderful ass and the tits of a teenager. I wanted to pull her into the stall with me and eat her pussy.
“Want me to run you home?” She touched my arm and lightly circled her nails.
After a few seconds of enjoying her touch, I said, “No, got the Nissan, I’ll be alright, and thanks for the concern. Gonna miss the workout today.” I said, afraid of attacking Rachel’s tits if I didn’t leave.
She squeezed my arm and a perception of interest flashed through my mind. “It’s nothing,” she said disappointed, and then she looked downward. I noticed something in her eyes that I’ll always remember, a brokenhearted glaze that left me vexed. This revelation overwhelmed me, and I exited the rest room, driving home in a confused state of mind.
I always loved being with Rachel, even if she always bitched and complained about work and her teenage son. We always found some excuse to be together by catching the latest movie or eating at a new restaurant. Lost in my thoughts, I drove past my house and ended three miles down the street before recognizing my mistake.
Later in the evening as Bernard quizzed me about my day, I gasped, realizing I left my panties in the rest room…
The Asian and the Salon
The next few days, I wrestled between stability and desire. Noticing friction in the marriage, Bernard tried to comfort me.
“Babe, need anything?” he asked.
I almost smiled. “No,” I said. “Tired, that’s all.” On rare occasions, Bernard demonstrated sensitivity. He even remembered to put the toilet seat down.
“Maybe we can hit the condo this week?”
I quietly sat for a few seconds, and then lied, “Need to get the paper published.” Heterosexual encounters at condos were not in my plans. Thoughts were brewing—ribald thoughts of lesbian sex with coeds.
Honestly, I knew he intended to ease my suffering, and I appreciated him in a way that only a lesbian in denial can understand. If truth be told, his attention disgusted me. It is hard for a person in the midst of denial to show affection for the major cause of the denial.
I found most of my comfort by petting Slinky underneath her ears as she purred. An arrogant orange ball of shit, the cat often scurried off to find a feline in heat. I wanted to be Slinky, scurrying into the arms of a woman—a woman with a wet and hungry pussy.
Drinking vodka each night until in a stupor, I allowed Bernard to fuck me once because I felt sorry for him. The experience left me unsatisfied and angry, especially after sitting on the toilet unable to get myself off as he snored.
The next day, I decided to hell with depression and chose not to drink. Trying my best to look sexy for my next psycho 101 class, I ventured to my wardrobe and found nothing to fit the task. Credit card in hand, I found solace at Macy’s, picking a pink linen skirt with a slit in the back and matching blouse. I figured the apparel might appeal to the girls without getting me fired. Shopping at Victoria’s Secret, I spent $300.00 on an assortment of panties, push-up bras, hose, and fragrant perfumes. The perfumes imbued seduction, and I wanted to be the seduced
Taking the dreaded trip to Maxim’s Hair Salon to see if they could help with the unibrow, I felt embarrassed, like an old woman unsuccessfully trying to remove years through the miracle of a salon. After seeing the sexy oriental just out of high school, my mood changed. Things looked better; the future seemed filled with opportunity and wholesome Asians.
As I soon found out, good things sometimes happen to horny professors, because Miss Asian wasn’t of the wholesome variety. She was a cute—damn straight cute—tiny with thin jet-black hair and large almond eyes. The sensation of having a pretty girl attending to my every whim excited me, ripening a ripe apple.
I became Mrs. Queer Courageous, and ordered a manny/petty, removal of the unibrow, and waxing of various body parts. She suggested a shaving; without a pause, I succumbed to the suggestion. Motioning me to the dressing room, she helped me change into a body towel the size of a dish rag. Her perfumed body moved in close, and she pressed her tiny breasts against my back. I sensed her bra-less breasts, which peaked my naked nipples. The Asian indicated for me to remove my rings and watch. I hesitated, knowing of my hidden suicide scar. Turning away, I removed the items and put them away.
She led me to a warm footbath and motioned for me to sit. Placing my feet in comforting bubbly water smelling of roses, she cleansed my feet. The cutie applied hot wax mixed with honey on my upper lip and between my eyebrows. “Hurt,” she warned. With two expert yanks, she removed what Darwinian evolution hadn’t weeded out yet. Yes, it hurt.
While the wax was warm, she warmed my happy trail by liberally applying a thin layer. Without notice she yanked, without notice I yelped. “Sorry,” she said, and then giggled. I smiled and nodded, realizing I liked the small pain.
The Asian spent time removing the calluses from the underside of my feet. She pursed her lips, working on a rough area. I half expected her to plug in a grinder before trimming my nails.
Cutting each nail with precision, she moved like a surgeon. I moaned like a ticklish teen. She noticed and found little niches on my footsies of funsies, purposely fluffing and fluttering. The girl finished my feet and rubbed in cooling cream. Her hands and the cream traveled up my thighs. Pulling my towel back to expose my upper thighs, she continued to apply the lotion while she staring at my reaction. I smiled; I giggled; I chortled. I took her hand and invited her upward.
“Not here,” she whispered, and moved to paint my toenails a delicious pink, while tickling places of pleasure.
Continuing the treatment with my hands, the Asian massaged each finger with a beguiling grin. Seeing my scar, she softly applied cooling lotion and looked at me with sorrow, sensing my pain.
Rubbing my palms with her thumbs, she moved close to me, resting her leg on my thigh. The move caused me to sigh, and she whispered, “Shhh.” She finished my hands and applied the same pink color on my nails, leaving me waiting as they dried.
On a perceptual level, I understood this young woman knew her teasing caused me joy, but the thought that no one else in the salon knew provided a sense of unkempt lechery.
The girl returned and innocently smiled, asking, “Pussy?”
I nodded, thinking clitoral stimulation would soon befriend me. She returned my nod, and became my friend, leading me by the hand to a private room with a table and washbasin. She motioned for me to remove my towel and lie down, pulling out a razor. I understood what she meant by ‘pussy’.
“What?” I asked. Losing the sparse black hair on my place of pride provided an unexpected challenge, but the thought of a beauty playing with my privates while shaving caused me to lose any resistance.
“I good shaver. You see,” she said, soaking the razor in warm water. “No worries. Very careful. Turn.”
She rested her hand on my thigh and patted, motioning for me to lie down on my chest. After correctly positioning, she said, “On knees. Bottom out.”
I positioned on all fours like a dog, and she washed my bottom with soapy water and a rag. Applying a pink foaming lotion that smelled of jasmine on a warm spring day, she caused my cheeks to clench. But her gentle messaging and low throated mewling enabled me to relax.
“No move,” she warned, and I felt the blade of the razor near my anus. She worked slowly with a sensuous touch, wiping the foam clean after each raking shave. After a few minutes, my former hairy bum looked like a baby’s behind.
Motioning for me to turn over so she could address the hair of my middle, she smiled and gave me a wink. The young woman washed her hands in clean soapy water. Returning to my side, she soaked my womanhood with another wet towel and spread my legs. She applied the pink cream once again, and my legs involuntarily closed as she massaged my clit.
She spread my legs with a tender touch. The cooling central air teased my sex, and my arousal suddenly increased. Moving my slippery clit and lips to avoid the blade, the Asian moved in close. Her warm breath tickled my pussy, and she sniffed my scent. As the raking sensation of the blade and slippery fingers performed required tasks, I twisted with a wicked happiness. She finished and reached for a soft cloth.
I took her hand, and whispered, “Not over, yet?”
She smiled, understanding my arousal. Then she leaned forward, sending a small lick to my clit and looking at my eyes. I quickly nodded my head.
The Asian stood and removed her smock, revealing a wiry frame highlighted by ripped muscles. I didn’t know this young woman. Damn, I didn’t care. I needed sex, hot, cheap, indiscriminate sex. Sex with a stranger excited me in a fit of needy shame. My mind considered the new awaking rising in my soul and felt happy. Time to answer the questionnaire and check off the box marked queer.
She mounted me, straddling my pussy and bringing my leg up to her side. Feathering the lips of her middle across mine, her body felt intoxicating. Like a drunk wanting a bottle, moans drifted from my lips causing her to stop. I looked up and begged, “Please?”
She placed a finger to her lips to signal silence. I nodded, and she tribbed again…and again…and again. Kissing the bottom of my foot and sucking my toes, she continued her loving as I strained to contain my moans, keeping the noises to barely a whisper. I trembled in a silent of battle orgasmic freedom—freedom she unselfishly granted.
Gliding her wet lips against mine, she started whimpering softly while looking into my eyes. My right hand reached for her left, and we joined fingers; she smiled and whispered, “I come soon.”
“Yes,” I whispered back in a hushed voice.
Hugging my leg with her arms, she pressed tightly and quaked. The excitement of seeing her orgasm lit a fire in my heart. We came simultaneously, producing a slippery friction between our pussies. I felt her pussy spasm against mine, sharing a friendship that rippled through my middle in several quick bursts. She let out a single loud, “Hah!” and bit her knuckle.
Spent, she moved down on top of me, bringing her mouth to mine. My body continued to orgasm as she kissed me, pushing her hips at a steady pace. Her hand reached between my legs and found my lips, and then entered my folds between our slow moving bodies. She allowed no time for reprieve. I needed this woman’s sex; her heady touch. Her free and easy manner unchained my burdened mind.
She thrust, lifting her mouth from mine and staring at my eyes to sense my pleasure. Orgasms awakened, and she quickened her pace, causing hairs on my neck to fritter in a dance. I forced her back down to my mouth to cover my screams and lifted my hips to meet her willing body. Clutching her cheeks, I drove her into me and held tight, lifting both of us from the table with my legs. Bursting in orgasm and screaming in her open mouth, I erupted in sweet passion’s bliss.
Explosions, eruptions, white stars—
lightning strikes, thunderstorms—
This beautiful woman celebrated my joy with many steaming kisses, enjoying the pleasure she richly granted. I screamed! I purred! I imploded!
Lying back, I closed my eyes for a few seconds, attempting to recover. The young woman reached up at tickled my cheek—recovery wasn’t in her lexicon.
“More?” she asked.
‘More’ traveled a woody trail to my place of need. She left the slippery table and motioned for me to turn around, helping me point my baby smooth bottom out to a sultry theatre of her attentiveness—a theatre of queer, of gay, of lesbian; a theatre emboldened with an actress sweeter than milk and honey.
Going to the wash basin, she washed her hands. Taking a clean soapy rag, she cleaned my womanhood and bottom, saying, “Germs.”
Hmm—I wondered why she needed my bottom so clean?
My adventurous mind soon no longer wondered as she set me back on a course filled with pleasure.
Sitting on a stool as she gazed into my open cheeks, she entered two manicured fingers into my slippery cove.
I spread widely, barely able to keep my face from collapsing onto the table as she started stroking my pussy with her fingers. Then I felt wetness, as her tongue glided from above her stroking fingers to the flesh surrounding my rose bud. Her tongue licked my bottom, and my brain couldn’t think as each neuron sang in a song. With unnatural desire, I thrust my bottom back into her with desperate need. She sated my need with a willing tongue.
Toes curled; goose pimples ran across a back, blood boiled in a beating heart; I shook.
Feeling her tongue leave my ass and fingers withdraw from my pussy, I felt a probing deep in my bottom. The manicurist teased my sphincter to relax, and then carefully slid in the full-length her finger. I couldn’t breathe.
Providing unkempt sensations, she entered two fingers in my pussy. The Asian began finger fucking the two holes quickly, forcing me to bite the upholstered table to keep from screaming. The sensation was unique, depraved, and sensuous, producing a level of eroticism that was new to me.
I don’t know how long she pounded as time lost all meaning, but the sensations stimulating my body produced a heightened sense of intoxication that forced me to whisper, “More,” then quiver and push back into her hands like a nymphomaniac. Holding my breath and straining, I released a joyous orgasm that literally turned me pink as a sunburned teen. I pulled away, she trailed after me, still pounding as a second, third and finally, fourth wave washed through my body. Grabbing back at her hands, I pulled them free, begging, “No more.”
As I rested on my chest hyperventilating, she looked at me, and asked, “Did you like?”
I laughed, and said, “Jeez, did I like? What do you think?”
In a carefree manner, she giggled, saying, “You like. Big tip, no?”
Smiling, I said, “Take my fucking house. I’ll throw in my cat and husband too.”
She laughed loudly, and then covered her mouth. After her chuckling subsided, she said, “Like pussy cats. No boys, no, no, no.”
Praise God Almighty, I thought, and then stymied the thought with a twinge of guilt. She removed the guilt by turning me over and providing a new type of sinner’s reprieve.
She took another washcloth, carefully cleaning my pussy and bottom, rinsing the rag in clean water many times. Massaging my legs with cool cream, she carefully raked my thighs with her nails. After putting away her supplies, she pulled me close to the end of the slick table and started kissing my feet, traveling up until she was staring at my now bald pussy. Her eyes looked at mine, and I nodded, thinking, pussy for dinner.
The first tongue that ever found my happy spot expertly flicked across the cause of my hunger. Stopping, she looked at me again, and asked, “Good?”
“Stop with the questions,” I pleaded. “Just eat me, eat me now!” The girl hungered, because she sank her mouth in my dinner, putting her tongue deep inside me.
My hands tangled in her hair as I arched up to offer her more of my pussy. She complied by forcing my pussy into her face and finding all the places a girl loves. She licked, sucked, and even nibbled for several minutes, driving me ever closer to a joyful end. My mind quaked as crimson rose petals flashed before my closed. I tensed in release, screaming as loud as one can whisper, “Oh Fuck.” Every ounce of strength that I possessed forced an explosion through my body, releasing years of frustration and tension. I soaked her face, and a tangy aroma filled the room.
She refused to relent, sending yet another ripple through my body as I pushed her away. She looked up and put a finger to her lips indicating for me to be quiet as small tremors ran through my body. I laid back and tried to relax. She said in a sultry tone, “Enough, next week?”
I nodded, damn happy to find my hair salon for life. In my twisted way of thinking, I saw us getting it on in our seventies as she ate my pussy with her now toothless mouth. My thoughts made me laugh. She looked at me curiously, “Nothing,” I said. “You have no idea how I needed that.”
She nodded, and then looked at me naked on the table and said, “Next appointment.” Disappointed, but satisfied, I stood and allowed her to place my towel back around my shoulders. She ran her nails up my arms and then kissed my neck one last time.
“Come back, more. I like,” she whispered in my ear. “Turn.” she said, dampening a soft cloth in warm water as I turned, she lightly washed my face then cleaned up the slippery table. The China doll sprayed a bottle of lemony fragrance to mask the musky odor that permeated the room. She ended our session by spraying my body with perfume and then moving to my lips and kissing with passion for a few timeless seconds.
She donned her frock, looking in a small mirror to check to see if she was presentable. Smiling, the Asian knew she had served her patron well. Satisfied with her work, she took me by the hand and led me back to the dressing room to help me in redressing.
A tip of $100.00 went from my hand to hers as I left the salon feeling beautiful and complete. She smiled, and said, “Come next week, okay? Me, you girlfriend.”
I smiled back, and told her, “Come every week.”
“Make appointment, much customer,” she said, and then giggled.
I calculated the pretty Asian would be a millionaire within a few short years if she treated all her customers with such attention.
I stumbled back through the mall and my mind thought about orgasms. Nothing bothered me, not even the fat man who pushed me rudely out of his way. Then I saw the freshmen through a window, holding hands and shopping at Hot Topic in typical college garb. I paused and watched the two, safely out of sight.
Stacey crossed her hands together like she was praying, and it looked like she said, “Oh Please,” while bobbing up and down. She pointed at two sexy schoolgirl outfits. Laura smiled, nodded her head and gave her a light peck on the cheek. The two hugged, pulling the outfits down and heading to the dressing room. I waited until they both emerged and stood admiring each other in front of the mirror, not knowing they were selecting the outfits to seduce me.
As I walked back to the car, I figured the Guinness Book of World Records might be calling later. Four orgasms in less than twenty minutes must be a record. I also realized for the first time a female had eaten my pussy, tribbed my pussy, fingered my ass, and licked my ass. I even gave her an orgasm; well, she gave it to herself to tell you the truth. I thought the record wouldn’t be broken, but a few days later, the undergraduates topped the mark, although it took more than twenty minutes to perform the task.
It was only when back in the Nissan I realized I didn’t know the young woman’s name, and wondered how I would make the next appointment. Yes, the pretty Asian who likes to eat pussy. I laughed, with a feeling of euphoria that I haven’t felt in a decade.
Arriving home, I entered, lingering in front of Bernard as he read a novel. He never looked up to comment on my new look, and said, “Hi babe,” in his usual taciturn manner.
I turned away, and said, “Sleepy,” avoiding the liquor cabinet and heading to the relief of the satin sheets decorating our marital bed. Then I masturbated my tender pussy quietly, thinking of the freshmen. Before I knew it, I slept dreamily in silky comfort for the first time in month. For some odd reason, I dreamed of Rachel’s mouth sucking my pussy.
The Revenge of the Coeds
The next day, Laura and Stacey strutted into the class in matching schoolgirl outfits, complete with plaid skirts, high stilettos and white cotton shirts tied around the waist. To make matters worse, the young women wore white thigh-length stockings supported by garter belts. Laura stood much taller in her stilettos and balanced in a muscular ease that defied gravity. Stacey, also taller in the heels, strolled with aristocratic grace and casually tickled her girlfriend’s hand in a simple erotic gesture of affection.
They sported sparkly gold matched piercings in their navels with each other’s name. The tattoos emblazoned above the top of the low cut dresses left my mouth opened. Laura’s read, I like girls, with a talking female dildo waving her arms. Stacey’s read, I am girl, with a picture of Hello Kitty in a suggestive position.
The two seated strategically in the vacant first row, hand in hand, pulling the small desk down and placing textbooks on top. I tried to start my lecture, but found few words after Stacey reached down and pulled up Laura’s skirt, exposing her bald pussy. She started tickling Laura’s thigh, causing the blonde to close her eyes and lick her lips. Laura’s pussy glistened as she moved lower in her seat, spreading her legs wider. The two played with me, knowing exactly what they were doing. I knew they knew, and stood in their sights as willing prey.
As I started my lecture on nature versus nurture and deviant sexual behavior, I made a brave decision—the only one possible considering my frisky mood. “Students, I’m feeling a bit ill today. Please read chapter sixteen this week and…” I let the class walk after five minutes. Of course, the two coeds waited until last, stopping in front of me with smug grins. I’m sure the class knew something was up.
“Today, Teach?” Laura asked.
Learning a years ago of times to speak and times to remain silent, I nodded. The two smiled in conquest, and we made plans to meet at a hotel in two hours, exchanging cell numbers and pecks on the cheek.
Spending money, I rented a room with a Jacuzzi and king-sized bed. I sat on the bed, running my fingers on satin comfort and thinking about the girls. Stacey exuded brilliance, writing firebrand essays supporting the queer. Laura experienced difficulty in school suffering from dyslexia, but worked harder than any student I knew. I admired the girls for many reason, but Laura’s ability to fight difficulty touched me deeply. Laura didn’t understand quitting, and Stacey supported her selflessly. The two loved each other in a perfect tandem of sexual and intellectual meshing. Add the two together, and the sum surpassed a million.
Alone in the room, fretting and neurotic, I obsessively touched up my make-up. It wouldn’t surprise me if the girls were teasing as a nice little diversion from their usual sex play. After a long sigh, I figured the two would show. I hadn’t posted final grades yet. Nonetheless, I didn’t own the courage to punish the two straight “A” students for their toying if they didn’t show. I still needed a little educational ethics, even if I was about to violate the student/teacher relationship clause in my contract. I sat for ten minutes nuttier than a fruitcake. The ring on my cell took me away from the asylum for the night.
A few minutes later, I opened the door and viewed one of the most erotic faces on earth. Stacey leaned forward and kissed me, not the type of kiss you give your Grandma, but a lingering kiss, with a studded tongue teasing my lips. She put her hand to the back of my head and pulled me closer, wrapping a leg around my thigh and rubbing her pussy against my skirt.
I sensed another presence enter the room and heard the door shut. A tongue entered my ear and danced. Strong hands caressed my breasts and a warm body pushed into my bottom.
Laura turned me around, and said, “You look pretty tonight, Teach.” Stacey moved to my side, and fondled my breasts, as Laura placed both of her hands at the bottom of my skirt and eased the garment to my waist. She looked me in the eyes and brought her pink nails to my lips, lightly touching, she asked, “Do you want me?” Then she kissed me with gentle ease and pulled away.
“Yes,” I mumbled in a hushed whisper. Stacey moved back to watch.
Laura pressed her mouth to mine, darting her quick tongue across my teeth. She grabbed my thighs and easily lifted me to her height, pressing my back against the wall. I instinctively joined my ankles together around her middle. She thrust her pelvis into my pussy while kissing me deeply. I placed my hands on the back of her head and held her face to mine. She drove, pounded, and pushed into me, forcing me to break our kiss and moan. Her tongue found my neck and sucked greedily.
“I’m going to make you die tonight. Stacey and I’ve wanted you for a long time,” she whispered in my ear, and then looked me in the eyes as she continued to push.
I couldn’t speak and forced her lips back to mine. She pushed into me a few more times. Abruptly stopping, she placed me back on the ground. I almost collapsed, but she held me firm.
She whispered, “Stacey’s going to play for us now. Come to bed with me.”
Stacey moved away laughing as Laura pulled me to the bed and patted the spot where she wanted me to sit. Being dazed of mind, I followed her request like a zombie. Laura positioned herself beside me, still wearing her schoolgirl outfit and stilettos. I looked back at Stacey’s exotic face and outfit and instinctively reached for my breasts. Laura pulled my hands away, and said, “You need to watch the show before you play.”
Poised seductively, Stacey’s lips pursed as her tongue danced against her bottom lip. High cheekbones surrounded a long nose that hinted of European descent. Arched eyebrows drifted over beautiful dark eyes opened fully with life. Black hair draped around her face and ended below her neck, highlighted by blonde accents professionally curled toward her body.
She wore a white buttoned sweater that loosely draped her body, falling seductively to the top of her thighs. My happiness at her body increased by knowing nothing separated the sweater from her nakedness, except a few beads of sweat forming on her neck.
She unbuttoned her sweater, starting at the top and working down. Leaving the garment draped across her shoulders, she exposed a divine body rivaling Venus de Milo with arms. Small but full breasts with extended nipples pointed at my eyes. Her belly was felinely muscular, suggesting frequent visits to the gym. Unconsciously licking my lips, I reveled in the glory of this teenager.
Stacey’s legs drifted up her torso in long sleek lines of amazing femininity, only stopping to meet a heavenly shaved pussy that sported a single piercing of a small oval ring.
Laura released a button on the top of my pink linen skirt, causing me to whimper softly. Turning me to the side, she slowly unzipped my dress, while kissing my neck and ear. The angel motioned for me to lift my hips, pulling the garment from my body and stopping briefly to run her hand over the cleft of my middle.
I looked back at Stacey as she started playing with her womanhood at the end of the bed. The teen was a seductive goddess, smiling insatiably as her fingers toyed with her clit.
Laura motioned Stacey over to my side of the bed, and the girl struggled to walk, unable to stop the gyrations against her clit. The vixen placed one leg near my face, offering a view of her ministrations inches away from my mouth.
“Lick her,” Laura prompted.
Stacey’s hands left her privates expecting my tongue. Then she fondled her breasts, and asked, “Please?”
I went to my knees in front of her, and looked at a beautiful bald pussy that glistened in arousal. I hesitated, wondering if my inexperience would ruin the moment.
I looked up at Stacey, and said, “I’ve never done this.”
“Do you want to?” she asked.
I indicated yes.
“Then start by touching your tongue to my clit. I’ll help you figure out the rest.”
Tentatively, I touched my tongue to the red bulb pulsing at the top of Stacey’s pussy. As my tongue began to flick back and forth I wondered, Why has it taken me so long to taste pussy juice other than my own?
Stacey guided my face to the places that excited her most with subtle movements of her hands. Soon, my instincts took over, and I naturally knew the spots that caused her pleasure. I started to lick her pussy like a child with an ice-cream cone.
Laura moved behind me and placed a single finger in Stacey’s pussy below my occupied tongue. The appreciative Stacey gently caressed my hair and slowly pushed her pelvis harder into my mouth. My hands found her cheeks, and I pressed her taut body into me as she lifted her head upward in a silent scream. It is hard to fathom, because as happy as it made me to give Stacey pleasure, it was knowing I could excite a girl that pushed me to euphoria.
We continuing the pleasing of Stacey for several minutes, and then we quickened our pace. I teased her piercing with my tongue, and she quivered as Laura continued to finger her pussy. Her orgasm caused her to push my head away for a few seconds, only to force her pelvis back to my tongue. She released orgasm in my mouth, and then fell to the floor, forcing me down with her as she screamed loudly, “Teacher.”
Laura descended to the floor next to me and watched as her lover came. Stacey eventually pushed my head away, and said, “Need a break. Damn! You’re good.”
I looked at her, smiled, and then I said, “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
She took my hand, “Could’ve fooled me.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Back to the bed girls,” said Laura. “Enough talk. I wanna get some pussy.”
The three of us went back to the bed, and Laura started kissing me. I pulled back briefly, and asked, “Why me?”
They looked at each other and laughed. Laura said, “You looked like you needed it.”
Stacey chimed in, “And we’re very horny.”
“Oh,” I said in an elegant display of wisdom.
“We like chicks, in case you haven’t noticed,” Laura added. “Sex is cool. We fuck around with many girls. But you, you were a challenge, and we couldn’t resist tempting you. I have this thing for older women.”
“What she means to say, Jenine, is she has a thing for anything with a pussy,” said Stacey.
“And you? Slut puppet?” said Laura. “You of the ‘let’s fuck a teacher’ fame. Don’t just blame me. You’re worse than me.”
Stacey shrugged, and said, “So true…” She reached over and played with my hair, and continuing talking, “I haven’t been on this planet long enough to claim I’m an expert or anything, but a lez can spot another lez from about a mile away. It took me about five minutes after Laura’s parents left our dorm to get the goddess next to you in bed with me.”
“Stacey, I agree with the goddess part, but it was me who got you to the sack first. I went after you.”
“Pfft! So you try to tell everybody Missy Pussy Licker.”
“You’re backing yourself in a corner, because you know what this tongue can, and cannot do for you. Unlike you, I learned to make all the girls happy in recess.”
Stacey smiled, and relented, “Okay Sweetmeat, I’ll give you this round, but you know who wears the britches in this relationship. I just let you think you do.”
Laura feigned like Stacey shot her through the heart, and then both of the girls giggled and kissed.
Their comfort with each other loosened me, making feel welcome in their world. Stacey tenderly tickled my face with her black fingernails, and said, “You’re very attractive, Jenine. When I first saw you, I wanted to be with you, and of course my horny girlfriend agreed. But since she is prettier than I, we decided she should do the dirty work. We were both stunned to see the way you dressed for us today. Of course, you saw how we dressed for you.”
Both the girls were so attractive. How could Stacey think Laura was prettier?
Stacey leaned forward and slowly kissed my lips and pulled away, “You want to watch my Laura now? My fuckslut is so beautiful.”
Laura didn’t wait for a response and stood in her schoolgirl resplendence. I understood why Stacey called her lover beautiful.
Delicious in her movements, she defined sexy grace. God decided a girl must be perfect and bestowed a blessing on the specimen standing a few feet in front of me. It wasn’t so much the outfit, but the way she carried herself, in full knowledge of the desire that she stimulated in the hearts of anyone who gazed on her countenance.
Her body was tall, thick, and curvy, with a face that would attract a eunuch. Sinfully light blue, her eyes imbued spirit. She possessed a Scandinavian quality, with thin nose and pink healthy cheeks. Her chin had a peculiar cleft, which moved when she talked. Full cheeks dimpled when she smiled, as skin bubbled up her young face with a glow only a teen could possess. Her bottom lip pouted slightly against a top lip with a noticeable v-shape in the center. Thick blonde locks flowed down naturally below full breasts with a single purple strand running down one side.
“She’s stunning,” I said, realizing how easily sex between women induced comforting friendship.
“Just wait ’till you see her tits.”
I looked upon her breasts; a seductive natural pair that caused me to think of milk and honey… and horny kitty cats. “Fucking gorgeous,” I said.
Stacey read my mind, because she said, “Take your top off, Kitty Momma.”
“Are you sure? I’d hate to disappoint Teacher with my tiny tits,” she said in a coy whisper.
I laughed, and said, “Just show me your tiny tits.”
“I don’t know, Teacher,” she teased, slurring the last word. “Maybe they’re not…big enough for you?”
“Hon, thought you were my toy tonight? Teach wants to play.”
“That’s the spirit, Jenine, make our sex-toy play.” The sex-toy toyed with us, but my god did she later play. And double doggone tinker-toys, she played with me.
She untied the knot above her belly on the white cotton shirt and unbuttoned the garment. Crossing her arms on her chest, she placed each hand underneath the open fabric. Our silly plaything denied us a view. The worst part about it was when she started to coo. The girl twisted her nipples and shook her bootie. The bootie shook my middle, and my own titties I did twist.
Finally relenting, she let her arms fall down and her top fall off, exposing balanced breasts with pink areolae extended in excitement. She fondled each nipple with her fingers, and asked, “What do you think?”
“Nice rack,” I thoughtfully said.
Laura lifted her left nipple to her mouth and suckled her breast, which caused me to want to be lips suckling a tit.
Stacey started unbuttoning my top as her lips found my neck. She reached under my chemise and massaged my nipples.
Laura sucked her other titty because I suspect it felt lonely. I suspected titties must get lonely without a suckling. Hey titty, I thought, let me help with your loneliness.
As Stacey’s lips moved from my neck to ear, I realized the view of my life felt quite different. I felt a thin ray of hope I could admit my lesbianism. The heady feeling brought a tear to my eye, I whispered to both girls, “Thank you.”
Laura removed her lips from her breast and looked at me with a strange expression, “The pleasure is ours. We’re going to fuck you silly.”
…and fuck silly, they did.
Looking up at Laura, I smiled, and wiped the tears from my face. She removed her belt and unzipped the small skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Gloriously naked except for the heels, garter belt, and hose, her eyes met mine, and she smiled with pulsing spirit. I knew she pulsed for me, and knowing she desired me thrilled my giddy heart.
“I’m yours tonight.” she said in a hushed tone. “However you want me. However you need me. I’m your fuck-slave tonight.”
Damn! I thought, lemme go get some handcuffs. And double damn! Stacey went to her purse and pulled some out. But triple damn, she later put them on me!
Stacey removed my chemise and bra, looking at my small breasts, she said “Nice tits, girlfriend. Would you like your toy to kiss them?”
“I’m so hot,” I whispered, wiping sweat from my brow in the air-conditioned room.
Laura said, “Sweetie, you’re sexy underneath the frumpy clothing…fucking cougar sexy.”
As stupid as this is, her words were about the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.
I looked at Laura, focusing on muscular legs spread slightly with her finger teasing her clit. Her legs never ended, running into a perfect torso with a thick layer of muscle that quivered as she masturbated.
Our eyes met, and I asked, “Kiss me my fuck-toy?”
Missy Fuck-toy moved to the bed, and her lips toyed with mine in a playful kiss. A kiss I will never forget because of the unbridled passion it initiated. Stacey’s hand massaged my pussy on top of my panties as she licked my neck and ear.
Laura glided her lips from my mouth to my breasts, while lightly stroking her pink fingernails across my belly. Stacey and Laura held hands and locked their eyes, in unison, they said, “Love you.”
Each girl took one of my breasts and kissed my nipples. Their hands tickled my belly and drifted to my pussy.
Stacey purred, “This one’s all for you, so sit back and relax and let us do all the work. We’re a very talented duo.”
I kissed their heads, smelling the coconut scent of an expensive shampoo. Stacey pushed me down and moved on top of me, spreading my legs and pressing her body to mine. She started pushing her hips into me, connecting our pussies. The bed soon became shambled, so Laura suggested for us to stand up.
While standing, Laura kicked off her heels, becoming a more reasonable height. Stacey removed the comforter as Laura inched up close behind me. Her breasts made contact against my upper back. She took her fingernails and raked them up my arms, taking my breath away in a subdued gasp. Her hand reached under my panties, and she rubbed my clit, grinding her hips into my butt.
Stacey bent down in front of me, moved the crotch of my panties, and said, “You smell like candy.” She flicked her studded tongue out and licked close to my clit, and then tickled my inner thigh with her nails. I placed my hands on Laura’s hips and pulled her into me as she continued to grind. Having two girls attend to my every whim moved me beyond all reason.
Stacey toyed with my clit with her studded tongue. Her expertise quickly brought me close to orgasm in a few minutes. Laura kissed my neck as I sank back into her, resting much of my weight against her body. The smell of coconut shampoo made me feel luscious as her soft breasts tickled my back. My body trembled, and Stacey made it quake when she stuck a finger in my pussy underneath her busy mouth.
I released a series of ripples that left me yelling a multitude of expletives in a complete loss of control of my mind. Laura suggested something about moving to the bed, so I ended up there with Stacey still between my legs sucking and stroking with her fingers. Laura straddled over my mouth facing her girlfriend. I couldn’t even lick her delicious pussy due to my bliss. But the smell of her pussy as drops of cream slipped into my mouth sent me immediately into another orgasm with the force of an earthquake. I screamed, “Fuck Me Jesus,” which is not a nice thing for a good Christian girl to say.
I quivered for a few seconds, releasing tawdry tremors from my body. Stacey continued to slowly lick until my joy ended. Sensing my discomfort at the continued stimulation, she pulled back and kissed my inner thigh. This tender show of affection released a last exhausting orgasm.
Being physically and mentally spent, I closed my eyes to recover. The girls repositioned to both sides of my body and gave me light kisses and hugs. I cried a little, Laura sweetly kissed the tears away, and then looked at me, smiling with her peculiar lips. Finally, controlling my emotions, I said, “Thank you, that was beautiful. You two are beautiful, thank you.”
Ass Fucking 101
After a nice little nap, the girls decided sleep needed an awakening, so before I knew it, cold steel clicked around my wrists.
My eyes suddenly opened, and I asked an intelligent question, “What the fuck?”
Stacey grinned ear-to-ear like a mischievous kid, and said, “Now, your turn to be a sex-toy, Teach.”
I tried to sit up, but found my hands cuffed to the bedstead. Stacey tickled my belly forcing me up on all fours. “That’s a good teacher. Now you behave like a good little toy,” Stacey teased.
“Stacey, cut your shi…” I started, but the object teasing my ass decided I didn’t need to talk.
“Sweetie,” Stacey started, “it’s well lubricated. You just relax and let my Laura do her thing. I promise, after the initial pain, you will love it.”
With something like a nod, I acquiesced, and then my ass acquiesced to an amazing appendage. The tip of the dildo teased my anus with anatomical acumen. Laura instructed me through every step along a ruddy trail, “At first, it might hurt, Jenine, but after your butt relaxes, ass fucking feels cool. Stacey will help with your pussy, and I’ll take care of your ass.
“I don’t kno..oh fucking JFC,” I said, as a missile entered my ass.
“Relax, don’t fight it,” encouraged Stacey.
Hell! I wasn’t fighting. I wanted the thing in me. It felt good. Laura pushed deeper as Stacey left the bed. She managed to inch the dildo in me to the hilt and started stroking back and forth.
A few seconds later, Stacey slid underneath me, pressing my body down to hers. Laura cuddled on top of my back, and Stacey rested underneath me in a female sandwich. What happened next provided a sex condiment for the sandwich. I felt another cock teasing my vagina as Laura continued fucking my ass, and before I knew it, my pussy and ass were both filled with dildo.
Having two women fucking me stirred éclat and passion, and I moaned in an unending cry. The girls started timing their strokes in unison as sweat covered our bodies. The tolerable pain caused my body to glory in arousal—an arousal steeped in decadence and greed. The girls aggressively took, and I passively gave. They fucked, and fucked, and fucked. I gave, and gave, and gave.
After the girls wrestled my holes a few minutes, an orgasm wrestled back. The pressure greedily teased deep in my middle with a satisfying hurt. Without fear, my orgasm fought and won a wicked battle. My body tightened in a spasm, renewing freedom’s force. Every atom of every neuron of every cell of every organ seemed to scream in fury, as a welling tide exploded in my ass. After an eternity, my explosion waned, and I rested between four titties as helpless as a kitty. Damn! Those girls didn’t take pity on my kitty, because they continued stroking like sex starved women. I tried to battle my arousal, but forgot how to talk. The final orgasm left me close to passing out, and a part of a single word managed to escape, “Sto…”
The girls did stop, but not without a final push. The push took my sanity and made me see a dark world.
I am Queer!
A few minutes later as consciousness returned, I noticed my hands were freed, and Laura and Stacey caressed my face, giving me tender kisses. Their dildos were absent, and they rested next to me gloriously naked. Stacey whispered in my ear, “Girl, that’s what loving women means. Now, ya need to figure out what you are.”
Enjoying their caresses, I considered my predicament, and the consideration shined a light upon me in a sudden dawn of courage.
I was a queer! Fuck the world. Fuck everything. I loved women, loved their smells, loved their touches, and loved the way they loved in a sisterhood of friendship. The lesbian awakened and locked the closet door, never to return to the darkened place.
I looked up at the girls and shouted, “I am queer!”
Looking stunned, Laura asked, “What brought that on?”
I thought for a few seconds, and then said, “I knew a pussy waited in ready behind your cock, and it made me realize that all I ever wanted in life was to love a girl with a pussy. I want women. Period. I am queer! Gorgeous, loving, fuckable!”
“Great Jenine,” said Stacey, “what the hell are you going to do about it?”
“Drop the dude,” said Laura.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, not easy. Not easy one bit.”
After a few seconds of quiet, Stacey said, “Was it easy to admit what you just did after how many years? Did you think you would get ass fucked today? Did you think a month ago you would be getting fucked like a slut by two girls? Things change, nothing ever stays the same. Life moves quickly, either get on the ride or it passes you by without giving a shit.”
Goddam! Goddam. Goddam. She was fucking right.
“We like you Jenine,” Laura said. “Always have, ever since the first day in your class.”
Stacey added, “You’re smart and classy. I don’t go after girls who don’t meet those two criteria.” Then she looked at Laura, which caused her girl to blush. “You need to get your shit together, and drop your dick.”
“Girls,” I spoke up, “my husband’s not a bad sort. It’s not his fault I’m queer.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with a goddam thing? It isn’t what we are talking about. I don’t care if he is fucking Jesus Christ himself. I don’t care if he is better than Ghandi. You are killing him by not coming out, as well as killing yourself.”
Something about the way Stacey spoke upset me. Anger erupted, and I said, “Bitch!”
Without a pause, she responded, “Hell, yeah! I’m a fucking bitch whoremonger. But, guess what chick? You’re still a lesbian. And guess what else? You always will be. There is no pill, baby. No unqueer medicine and then it’s done. Ain’t gonna happen in this lifetime. You can’t look in the mirror, tap your little red shoes, and travel down a yellow brick road. That only happens in the movies. This ain’t a movie. It’s called life.”
Shit. She was eighteen and knew more of life than me. Damn. This hurt.
“Why the hell did I have to be born this way? It would’ve been easier if I had a cock or be dead.”
“O, yippee for you. Let me get out a bucket of pity. Shit Jenine, that’s just fucking stupid, and you know it. Wake up and smell the pussy. It’s all around you.”
I looked away from her and trembled. Trembled in anger, trembled because each word she spoke was true. Gathering myself, I asked,”What’s next?”
“Well, I feel like putting you in the corner with no supper, but instead I’m still horny for your body and this woman next to me. You know the answer hon. I can’t answer that question for you.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Now, you think about your next step,” said Stacey. “I want some pussy. Kiss me you fool.”
I hesitated, but eventually went in Stacey’s arms. We didn’t kiss. She held me tightly and let me sob. Soon, Laura joined the two of us, and we all cried together like three strange queers—one awakening, with two awakening the one. The one awoke.
About five minutes later, Stacey said, “Okay hon, enough of this sobbing bullshit. I want my Stacey now. Come here baby, be my slut. Jenine, your welcome to join in, but I want my gal,”
I laughed. It’s funny how in the middle of an emotional moment you laugh. The world could be on fire or you lose your job, and people still laugh. “You’re so horny it’s not even funny,” I said.
“Shit, Jenine, look at her. Wouldn’t you be?”
“Yeah, I would be, and yeah, I get it. Thanks. I don’t deserve what you’ve done.”
“You deserve happiness, all queer do. It’s not your fault. It’s not a cruel trick of nature. We just are, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. So fuck ’em.”
“Now, you wanna fuck or talk?”
“Go ahead, you did fuck me silly in more ways than one.”
“Yeppers, Teach, we fucked yer pussy, ass, and brain. Now all we have left is that pretty mouth of yours. Gotta save something for next time, right?” asked Laura.
“Ah! Laura, you’re such a slut,” said Stacey.
“But I’m your slut, Bubblebutt.”
“Yes, you are.” Stacey turned to me, and said, “Now, Jenine, either leave us alone, or join us. Cuz, I have some pussy to eat.”
I laughed again, and said, “I can’t take anymore, you two have fun.”
…and they did
The girls left me alone to recover and went after each other wildly. Stacey laid her head on a pillow and indicated for her girlfriend to position her pussy on top of her face. The muscular Laura moved slowly, taking time to kiss the smaller teenager’s thighs and stomach before placing her middle across Stacey’s eager lips. Laura laid flat against Stacey and the two enjoyed a mutual tasting of each other’s plums. The muscular blonde started losing control as Stacey sucked her clit. As is if in a trance, Laura turned her body around to face away from Stacey’s middle, and then rested her arms against the headboard. She straddled her girlfriend’s mouth and slowly moved back and forth in an exotic dance of love.
Laura moaned in a dream—a dream of reality and unspoiled wealth. She fondled her breasts and increased her pacing across Stacey’s face. The headboard pounded into the wall as Laura’s movement quickened, and I silently prayed the room next door was vacant for the evening. Laura just didn’t give a damn, too caught up in her impending orgasm to notice the noise.
Laura looked like a jockey riding a horse as she fucked her lover’s face. She pinched her breasts with her fingers, kneading the flesh in loving need. Laura’s movement slowed as Stacey pushed in her face deep into her. With eyebrows furled and mouth twisted in a half smile, Laura greedily accepted Stacey’s sacrifice, and the lamb greedily supped her savior. Feeling the eruptions in her body, Laura screamed, saying nothing in particular, but the message was clear, as orgasm found a home in Laura’s sweet body.
Some humans are blessed in the art of giving, others focus on getting. Laura knew both intimately; giving and receiving pleasure with untamed passion. Nearing the end of her rapture, beads of sweat streamed down her body in glowing pearls. She looked down and tensed, yelling, “Fuck.” Then Laura lifted slightly; Stacey grabbed her thighs and forced her back down, causing the teenager to open her mouth and wail, “Too much.”
She tried to wrestle her pussy away from Stacey, but Stacey held tight, not allowing the muscular beauty free from her vaginal assault. Laura’s soon exploded in another onslaught of orgasms and looked lovely as she quaked. The girl was so free and sensitive with her release, demonstrating the pure joy of orgasmic rapture. This young woman owned pleasure; she consumed it, reveled in it, and loved in it. As her ecstasy subsided, she moved on top of her lover and soaked the smaller girl’s body with her wet body. Laura looked down at her lover, and said, “That fucking sucked,” in an exhausted voice half between anger and affection.
“Well, I was eating pussy, what did you expect?” Stacey responded. Then the two cuddled together, pecked each other’s lips and exchanged little endearments. The two loved each other, so young, free, and confident. My eyes moistened, not because I was happy to see the two so in love, but because I needed a woman to love me as the two girls loved each other.
Two Queer Stories
Stacey looked over, noticed my expression and asked, “You Okay, Jenine?”
“Yes hon, just curious about some things. I’m jealous girls. Jealous of the way you love each other and your freedom. Can I ask you a question?”
“What about?” asked Stacey.
“When did you figure this all out, I mean being gay and everything? Give me the whole thing and don’t leave out the tidbits.” The girls looked at me, and then looked at each other in a silent conversation. It seemed I was the first to broach the topic with the two, and they were very eager to share their story. I assumed the unaccustomed role of student, and the two of them became my teacher.
Stacey, the loquacious little professor who was always happy to hear the sound of her voice, said, “I’m not trying to downplay the question, but there is some unhappiness within you that must be quashed or you’re going to go bonkers. You really need to lose the hubby and find a woman. That appears to be at the crux of your misery. Obviously, if you can’t admit what you are then you will never be happy. I’m sorry if I’m being bitchy, but don’t you think you should?”
I paused, realizing that this teenager had hit the nail on the head, and then said, “You don’t know my story, it’s hard for me. I’ve been through a few things that have messed me up.”
“It’s not easy for any of us to be gay and face the ridicule. I’ve had it better than most, being raised by an understanding mother. But don’t even think that we don’t notice the ridicule of our classmates. The guys want to fuck us to show us what a real man can do, or either they want to see us getting it on. Most girls hate us and think they are going to catch our illness. Fuck ’em, we are not sick; we are queer. So I say, Fuck you world. Stick it up your ass if you don’t like it. There is nothing I can do about it. Except love girls the way God meant me to love girls. Sometimes you must say Fuck off world.”
It was silent for a few seconds
“Yes, you’re right,” I mumbled, “but not yet. I just can’t do that yet.”
“A month ago, did you think you would ever have sex with a girl?” I shook my head. “So, yes you can, at least you’ll admit that. Honestly, we’ll do anything to help you, as long as you try to help yourself.”
“Would you tell me your stories? That may help me sort it out,” I asked, trying to keep from crying.
“Well, I know the question isn’t superfluous, least not for you, but you know it isn’t going to solve the real issue.”
“I know, damn it, but it’s a starting point.”
“No, the starting point is getting rid of the dick.”
She paused and looked at me. I shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “Not ready, but when you are, come get me and my girl. We will walk down Main Street with you in our gay pride t-shirts baby. Now, I’ll tell you about me.”
“All my little girlfriends were going all gaga over Julio Iglesias while my body hungered for Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan. I fondly remember sitting in my Grandma’s lap at a very young age, never wanting to leave her for some reason I didn’t understand. It had something to do with her cheap perfume and the soothing little songs that she sang to me as she patted my back and ran her fingers through my hair.” Stacey looked at me to make sure I was listening.
Satisfied, she started again, “Even under the scrutiny of Mom, my girl dolls always held hands and kissed. I think she noticed I was different, and fortunately, never played the guilt card or told me it was bad or wrong. I just figured that girls being together followed some kind of natural order after all; it was only just Mom, Grandma, and me. Of course, by the time I became a bit more mature, the ugly perception of the world forced a reality to my brain: be gay, act straight.
“Mom and I kind of grew up together, because she was only seventeen when I was born. Grandma was more like the mom for both of us. The asshole that supplied the sperm to produce me left when I was two. Mom never let that scar me and never spoke ill of the man, although she never dated again until I was in my teens.
“Going to night school while working all day at a daycare, she graduated, became a first grade teacher and my Joan of Ark. All I knew as a child was the female love of my mother and grandmother, not incest or anything, but women caring for each other in a maternal way.
“When my mom caught me in my little twin bed making out with a girl, her reaction probably helped me sort things out the most. I suppose my very loud moaning gave us away, but it was just difficult for me to keep my hands off any girl who would let me touch her. Strangely, Mom didn’t storm in the room, call the police and put a stop to our little reindeer games. Mom closed the door and left the two of us alone, my friend never lifting her lips from my mouth.
“After my friend left the next morning, I was expecting a beating worse than Cain gave Abel. She surprised me by honestly explaining her experimentation with girls when she was my age. Hugging me, she said I was too young to have sex with boys or girls. She didn’t want me to suffer some of the pain that she went through with my father. Sensing it was more than naïve experimenting with me, Mom told me something I will never forget as long as I live, I will always love you, even if you screw up.
“After that day, when I was still a young teen, I decided to become openly gay, which caused quite a stir at my school, with mom being a teacher and all. The acceptance issue followed me to high school, but I was a bit of a wallflower, no boobies or anything like that, so most didn’t really even notice the gay girl. Then all hell broke loose my junior year when I found my first real girlfriend, and we walked through the halls at Franklin High School hand in hand, like all the male and female couples. The principal tried to stop us, but Mom came to school and shut the bastard down.
“She threatened a lawsuit based upon discrimination; fought all the way up to the school board, and their attorney advised them they would lose. I still can’t believe how hard she fought for me, her being a teacher, but I did go to the prom with the girl, which was a first for the district. It made the national news.
“I was very lucky. Now my girl over here had it a bit different, but she should tell you about her experience.” Stacey looked at Laura.
“And I’m supposed to follow you and try to be intelligent,” she winked at Stacey, took her hand, and gave it a kiss. “Her mom is incredible, Jenine. She knows all about us. My daddy knows, but he can’t accept it.” She looked at me and I nodded.
Laura started again, “Like I was homecoming queen and everything, and I certainly don’t have a brain like my girl over here, or liberal thinking parents.
“I definitely have always been a little slutty, even though my parents are so supposedly high and righteous and brought me up with the so called fear of God. I dated all the cool guys and even fucked a few of them, but it wasn’t until I was eighteen and looking at my younger brother’s Playboys, I had a feeling that I was at least bisexual, and maybe even lesbian. In the back of my mind I already probably knew, but looking at the bodies on those beautiful girls kind of gave me a revelation I never felt before. Masturbating, while looking at tits, was a lot more satisfying than fucking guys. But of course I was very scared. I mean God and everything, and my parents were so strict. Daddy was a deacon after all.
“Later that same month, I found myself spending the night with my Aunt Judie one weekend for some reason I don’t remember, then I guess what happened can be clinically called incest. I’m not psycho about it or anything, it just kind of happened. Judie is the black sheep of the family and Mom never let me stay over at her place. They must have been desperate for a sitter, or this would have never happened.
“As we sat on her couch watching Animal House, she laughed and said, ‘that chick is hot’. Then she looked at me realizing she made a slip. I didn’t say anything, but silently agreed with her. Later on, she slipped her hand over mine, and I didn’t pull away. We just held hands and everything, but I guess I invited her in, and her hand slipped down my leg under my skirt and stroked my pussy. Now that was exactly what this queer needed, I mean it felt better for some reason than fucking my own hand.
“The sweetie gave me the coolest little orgasm, my first girly sex. Well that just caused a dam to burst, and I ended up making out with my Aunt for almost two hours. We didn’t do much more than kiss and masturbate, me being a little tentative and all. The experience let the genie out of the bottle, and you could say that I was different after that. I stopped dating boys altogether, and the homecoming queen became an official lipstick lesbian.
“My parents didn’t take the change very well. They held out hope that their little girl was just going through a phase. I’ve still not told them that it is more than a passing fancy, ’cause I’m a full blown lez, Jenine. I’m so happy about being in love with my Stacey. She’s right you know, about all the admitting it to yourself and everything. When she took me that first day in the dorm, my life changed for the better.
“It only took a day for us to move into the same dorm room with each other, somehow our straight roommates realized that maybe the exchange would be in their best interest. We’ve been together almost seven months now, and it’s not like we just fuck each other all the time. I just like being with her, talking about stupid shit, like the color of the sky and Madonna’s hot body even at her age.
“I’m very much in love and hope someday to marry this girl. I think she may say the same thing about me. After all, I’m the sexiest lez at this school,” then she paused and looked at Stacey.
“I love you, and say yes to your proposal, but maybe we need to get the apartment first. After all, I don’t imagine that your Daddy will foot the bill for his married lesbian daughter, and how are we to survive without his credit card and Taco Bell?” said Stacey.
“The only reason you want me is for my money,” Laura said and chuckled.
“Shit, secrets out.”
“You say the nicest things,” said Laura, “now you’re going to have to eat me again.” She turned and looked at me, “You ready for some more?”
I didn’t answer, instead, I kissed Laura.
Laura pulled away, and said, “I guess it’s Teacher’s turn again.”
The three of us went at it for over two hours. Then I had to leave to get home to the hubby. The girls stayed in the room the entire night, appreciative because the dorm provided little privacy. We made plans for another session the next week. They were both so sweet and good to me, and I dreaded the drive home to Bernard. I drove recklessly, barely avoiding a pedestrian and running a red light. Somehow, my car found its way home without killing the driver or another person.
Pulling into the driveway, I sat unable to leave the Nissan as the radio blasted, Hell’s Bells by AC/DC. Beating my hands against the wheel then squeezing my fists until my knuckles turned white, I cried so hard my head hurt. Slinky jumped on the hood, curious about why I was still in the car and expecting a treat. She stared at my eyes in haughty manner. I looked up at the furry orange cat and asked her, “Why is this so hard?” The cat just meowed and jumped off the hood, searching for a small mouse or bird to hunt. I felt like that hunted animal, only I was willing prey, desiring seduction by someone who loved me. Wiping my tears on my hands and checking the mirror, I left the confines of the car, entered my house, and tried to slip past Bernard.
He didn’t look up again, absorbed in yet another novel, “Hi babe, had to work late tonight?”
“Yes dear, grades are due,” and I silently cursed the pretense of my life. Standing before the liquor cabinet, thirsty for a drink, I slowly turned, going to the safety of my satin sheets.
“Sleepy,” I whispered.
“All right,” he said, never bothering to look up, “I’ll be in later, want to finish this chapter.”
I could have walked in that door naked with hickies covering my body, and he wouldn’t have noticed. “No hurry, I’m going straight to sleep,” I lied, knowing I would not rest.
Love Finds a Way
You know how every once in a while a miracle occurs? The next day at work, one happened. I stepped into my office, shocked to see roses on my desk. Figuring Bernard was up to something, I picked up the note. Much to my surprise, the handwriting wasn’t Bernard’s.
While sitting down, I opened the note, without knowing my world would soon change.
Don’t hate me. I’m going to take a chance and tell you something I can’t keep secret any longer. Put your coffee down, because you’re going to spit it out.
I’ve lived my life with a big secret. Honey, I’m a queer. After many years with a good man, I left him. Since I’ve been single over the past three years, I’ve searched for love. I found it. The one I love is reading this letter. I see the way you look at me.
Surely, you’ve noticed the desire in me.
Here’s the deal, you get in around 9:00 (yes, I stalk you). Your first class is at 11:00. I’m going to be at Starbucks at 9:30. If you don’t show, I’ll never bother you again.
As I waited on the balcony for over an hour, the South Padre Island sun warmed my soul. I thought about Bernard and his new wife. Good for him, it didn’t do him any good to be married to a queer. He certainly couldn’t be blamed for what happened.
The coeds were happy, seems Laura’s Father came to terms with her lesbianism. Sometimes love overcomes ignorance.
Hearing the door open, my pulse quickened. I smelled her scent as she walked through the room. A few seconds later, I felt my wife’s lips on my neck. She pulled back, and asked, “You okay, baby?”
I turned around and looked in her eyes. We kissed. I pulled away, and said, “I am now, Rachel.”
May your day and life be peaceful.