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Category: Lesbian Sex
22.12.2018
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Rats! 99 again. Will it never cool off? Barefoot, cutoffs, and a blouse with only the bottom button fastened, I hurried to the mailbox. Just the electric bill. Why’d I even waste my time? Feels like I just walked over the stove for a lousy bill. Probably should have put on some sandals.

Walking back, a moving van drove through the parking lot. I guess I’d remembered seeing it at the other end of the building, just didn’t pay much attention. What a hard ass job on a steamy day like this.

I took the ‘scenic tour’ back and walked by. The door was still open. There were boxes and loose wadded up newspapers everywhere.

She looked up at me. “Hate moving. Almost rather die.”

“I live at the other end of the building. I’m Alice. Need a hand?”

“Should save a few favors for later I guess. But sure. I’m Betty.”

I folded the bill and stuffed it in a hip pocket as I looked around. Lots of mismatched furniture, lamps, and dishes. Nothing quite went together.

“Looks like the bad end of a divorce.” I giggled.

“That obvious huh?”

“Just reminds me of when I was doing the same thing years ago.”

“Yeah. Guess I was thinking with my pussy when I married that bastard. This is my second place since then.”

“They always talk about guys thinking with the little head, guess we do too sometimes. How about a beer? Take a break. Come on over.”

“That would really hit the spot about now. Might puke if I see another sealed up box.”

I tossed the folded envelope in a pile of others on the small desk by the front door.

“So this is what my place will look like after I’m unpacked? Very nice.”

“I keep hoping it won’t always look like a Goodwill special. Have a seat.”

I returned with 2 beers and Betty was flipping through ‘Women by Women’, the single large book on the coffee table.

“These are lovely photographs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such sensitive pictures of nude women.”

“One week not long after I moved in, I spent my last 60 bucks on that. Really brought out some strong feelings in me. Not that I’ve … well. It’s touching the way they lay together in some of the pictures.”

“Don’t think I could pose like that. Maybe I could?. Her pussy is so pretty though.”

I leaned and touched one of the pictures with a finger tip, just touching a nipple. A breast fell out of my blouse and I let it stay. I wasn’t trying to be sexual, just didn’t bother to do anything about it.

“Alice … your …”

I gave it a little nudge and it was partially covered again. “Sorry.”

“Actually I was both surprised and … this will come out the wrong way … excited. It looked so much like some of these pictures.”

“Not so bad for an old broad.”

“Oh Alice. Don’t be silly. I’m the old broad. My ex even assured me of that fact.”

“Well I was a pretty hot chick during the summer of love in San Francisco.”

“1967! Oh that was such a blast.”

“You were there too?”

“Where else could someone be back then? I lived in Gate 5 in Sausalito.”

“The funky houseboats. Cool. San Anselmo was such a fun place. Remember the Lion’s Share?”

“Wow! Deja Vu for sure. All the great bands played there. I remember seeing Country Joe McDonald there.”

“‘Feel Like I’m Fixin’ to Die Rag’. Oh for a joint about now.”

“Getting naked and balling.”

“Flower children. Far freakin’ out man.”

“What a strange trip it’s been.”

“Peter Max. The Family Dog.”

“FSM in Berkeley. The Avalon, The Filmore, and Winterland.”

Betty put her hand on my thigh. “You’re making me feel so good. Haven’t meet anyone in a long, long time that could dredge up such wonderful memories.”

“Just two aging hippies it seems.”

I put my hand on her thigh and looked into her eyes for a moment. There was electricity flowing through my hand all the way to my heart. My chest was pounding. I was hoping that my palm wasn’t getting all sweaty like it always does when I’m nervous.

We stared at each other, unsure of ourselves, having never experienced these feeling towards another woman before, like that first kiss on the first date.

Betty glanced at the open page of the book, a page flipped in the breeze from the air conditioner, two women were embracing. Her face looked back at me. I could sense the turmoil she felt. I felt it too. I fought to just pull back and let it go. Yet I felt a kindred soul was sitting so close to me. I felt an empty part of me being filled. Without any conscious thought, I kissed her lips. It both felt good and right. Instantly she kissed back, nothing excessive, but I could feel a response, much more than just a friendly kiss.

We pulled apart, just looking at each other.

She smiled a little. “Did that feel good to you?”

“Strangely … yes.”

“My first with a woman. You know … more than a friendly kiss. I suddenly felt like I’d known you all my life. Like it was okay to … want you.”

I kissed her lips again. Lightly, tentatively at first, adding small amounts of passion over the moments. I could feel the tip of her tongue lightly pressing against me. I let my tongue touch hers. They meet, greeted, and rubbed back and forth, getting to know each other.

A finger touched between my breasts, on that bone, the hard bone separating the softness of my breasts, moving up and down a few inches, once or twice. Softly, not commanding, not wanting to make it feel like the end of what had started, she whispered “Help me go slow.”

“Good. I felt like I was about to rip your clothes off.”

“I felt I was too.”

Her touch with a finger became a touch of the palm, the hand. “Louie, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.” She smiled and kissed me. Just a peck, but I knew there was more to come over time. No doubt about that.

Standing in a sea of boxes, some full, some half empty, some flattened, Betty stood with her hands on her hips. “Gag! I was having more fun on your couch. I’ll never get all of this put away.”

“Stay focused and we can go have dinner later when we’re done.”

The air conditioner sounded like it was going to jump out of the window and run away instead of attempting to keep the place cool while we unpacked. I’d never seen so many books and DVD’s. On the shelf, a boom-box played ‘Baby, Let Me Follow You Down’. My mind raced back nearly 40 years. A single large room on the houseboat, a haze of mellow smoke, glowing embers in the hookah, more than a few naked bodies lounging on large pillow chairs, a few “like wow man” utterances, brownie fudge on my fingers in the afternoon heat. A time never to be repeated, never to be the same. I thought we would always be like that, that I’d never get ‘old’.

I handed her the last 3 DVD’s. “You must have the AFI Top 100 of every category and then some.”

“Almost. Quirky eclectic collection. I was so glad Jim didn’t want any of them. He was happy to keep his ’20 Years of the NFL’, ‘The History of the Yankees’, and ‘Greatest Race Car Wrecks’.”

She put the last movie in alphabetical order on the shelf and patted the edges so they were nice and even as I ripped the tape off the bottom of the last box and flattened it out.

“I’ll run home and shower. Don’t seem to smell very pretty right now.”

She reached out and took my hand. “I would have never thought I’d say this to another woman … but would you like to shower with me?”

Our hands continued to hold each other and nothing was said. I followed her into the bathroom.

As the warm water cascaded over us, we looked at the beads of moisture laying on each other’s skin. Our eyes at the same level. Our breasts no longer firm, perky, but not sagging so badly either. Our stomachs in the right place, not pudgy, still in good shape. I touched her nipple with my finger and enjoyed the way it responded to my touch. I touched the other and it stood up for me.

“Been awhile. His did that too. Guess I still have the touch.”

Her hand cupped my breast. “Nice, like earlier.”

“I like your touch.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, then paused. “Glad I went to the mailbox.”

“Glad I still had the door open.”

We took turns lathering each other, rinsing the suds off, patting each other dry, loving the touch of another.

“Guess I still need to run back and get some clothes.”

“I think we might wear the same size, close enough for government work.” She laughed. “Try some of mine.”

I pulled on a pair of her shorts and a blouse, turned, and modeled for her.

Betty clapped her hands together. “Like we were twins.” She pulled on some clean clothes, not quite matching the ones I had on.

“No panties?”

“Heavens no. One of my wicked little pleasures.” For a moment, she touched the fabric between the legs.

I picked up her hand. “Lots of choices around here.” I smiled. “Chili’s or Applebee’s?”

“Welcome to Chili’s.” The bubbling young woman announced. As if she couldn’t count that high, “For 2?” She looked a second time as we stood holding hands.

I sat across from Betty so I could stare at the woman that had been a total stranger not so many hours ago and now was becoming …

“What’cha thinking about?” She rested her hand on mine, letting her fingers slide back and forth between mine.

“Just how you never know what the day …”

“I know. I feel that way too. Sure brought unexpected joy.”

“Can I start you with something to drink?”

“A rum & Coke.”

“Make that 2.”

The sever left before we could order any food.

“Nice. I’ve always loved the taste of a Cuba Libre.”

“You decadent lady. A Cuba Libre!” I smiled.

“Yeah. A real slut.”

We were still laughing when she returned with our drinks.

I stood looking at her by the door to her place, both of our hands held by the other, swinging back and forth a little to the sides.

“Alice … I had a wonderful time today.”

“Me too.” Feeling a little like I’d been on the porch after a date, I repeated myself, not really knowing what else to say. “Me too.”

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” She leaned forward and kissed me once. “We don’t have to do anything. I’d just like your company.”

“It would feel nice to have you against me.”

I woke up in the morning, a little disoriented, feeling a warm breath on my neck, a hand resting against my back, a thigh pressed against mine. I rolled over trying not to wake her. Her eyes opened, a smile formed on her face.

“Alice … so glad you stayed. That was delicious.”

“Yes Betty, yes it was.”

“Kind of different not waking up with a cock jammed against the crack in my ass.”

I kissed her, this time with much more passion than before, a hand rested over her bare breast, a finger rubbing back and forth over the nipple. Her hand reached down and a finger rested against my naked clit. She pulled back a moment. I nodded my head. We resumed our kiss. Mouths and lips replacing fingers, kissing where we had never been before. Enjoying sharing our moisture with another, having only tasted ourselves, having only tasted between a man’s legs. Now we knew what they might have enjoyed about us. The softness, the wetness, the folds of skin guarding the opening. The hours passing with no sense of time. Our hearts racing like never in a long time, our breathing labored at times.

That was my first time making love with a woman. It wasn’t the last.

Betty and I had become inseparable. We pooled our small monthly paychecks and moved to a nicer place. We even tossed out the crappier pieces of furniture.

She would come home from her job as a secretary at a large insurance company. I worked at a university as a department secretary. I had a PhD in Philosophy, but a combination of bad timing, lack of drive after working so hard on my thesis, a demanding husband, I never did much with it. After the divorce, I was happy just to find the secretary job. How I hated the looks of the other women who saw me as a nothing woman … just a secretary. They didn’t know and I wasn’t going to thump my chest about being ‘Dr. Franks’. I just knew someday they would find out about the facts of life when some jock they’d married because of his rippled abs, ran off with someone half their age.

We would get home about the same time, fix a salad, a baked potato. A nice steak when we could scrape together a few extra coins. Other nights a quick TV dinner or a cold sandwich. Always just nice to stand next to her, act a little crazy, swing my hip to the side and bump against her, slap her butt, you know, just act a little crazy. Sometimes she’d take her dripping wet hands out of the sink, drag them across my blouse, and yell ‘oh gee. it’s wet. have to take it off.’ then pull up on it. How I loved to stand behind her and let my hands roam all over her body. Touching her was like me touching myself, only better. I’d never ever felt so good about my life. It was all something I’d never known, something more wonderful than words could describe.

One day she came home in tears. “What’s wrong darling?” I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me.

“Got laid off! Fuckers. All these years. Fired. Put out to pasture. Shit on them.” Tears poured down her face and the rage screamed out. She looked at me and I wiped at the tears with my finger. They were coming faster than I could wipe.

I pulled on her hand, lead her to the bedroom, and pushed her backwards onto the bed. I flopped down next to her.

“Fuck me my goddess! Fuck me hard like only you can do to me.”

She lay on top of me, her hands on either side of my head, and looking down into my face. She smiled. Kissed me. “My silly sexy slut. You always know just what to say.”

That evening, still naked, sitting at the dinning room table, we looked through the want-ads. I found one at a smaller college in town for a part time instructor, probably paying more than I was making as a secretary. Betty found a few promising ads. Over the coming weeks, we tightened our belts a few notches and went on interviews.

As our last dollars disappeared from the checking account, we both received good news, new jobs. A small savings account held us over until we could start and the first paychecks appeared.

“Thanks for sticking this out with me.”

“Betty you crazy woman. Don’t you know I love you. Broke or not, I love you. I’ll never leave you. You silly sex starved …”

“Slut?”

“Yeah. Slut. Spread them wide and let me at you.”

The next spring, we celebrated our first anniversary and her birthday. A cake, cut in half, with candles on one side, a single candle on the other. In the background played ‘Lay Lady Lay’.

“Got a fire extinguisher? I can’t be that old!”

“Nah. I only put half of them on it.”

Betty gave me a slap across the butt. “Don’t be mean to an old lady.”

“Careful, I may not lick the frosting from between your legs.”

“Oh … you are mean.”

Many years later, now a full professor, I gave a lecture on ‘Growing Older and Loving’. I closed by introducing Betty as my love, as the inspiration for the lecture, and had her join me on stage. I held her hand as we bowed to the audience, our long white pony tails falling over our tie-dyed t-shirts. Everyone in the huge packed auditorium stood and applauded for the longest time. I don’t think she had ever stood in front of a crowed this large. I could feel her hand quiver a little as we stood back up, our arms reaching up over our heads.

During the reception, a woman, late 20’s maybe, approached us, and shook our hands.

“That was so moving. I just hope that I can find the kind of love you have found in each other.”

I looked at her, my eyes scanning from her feet to head. ‘Jo’ was what the name tag had on it. “Jo, are you in a relationship now?”

“Married. No kids thank God. He’s only interested in his dick and basketball. Always wondered if I should just be with a woman.”

“It’s not about gender. It’s about heart, caring, compassion, sharing, … that’s what love is all about.”

Betty squeezed my hand. “And helping you unpack.”

Jo just stood and looked puzzled. No answer seemed forthcoming, and she walked away.

We made love all that night like it was our last night together, like we’d done so many nights before. We yelled, shrieked, moaned, and carried on like hormone enraged teenagers. Pussy juices all over our faces, down our thighs, all over our hands, all in our mouths. It was the night of all nights for both of us. Always living life to the fullest.

The next morning, I held her lifeless body. Tears washing down my face like Niagara Falls and across hers. I’d lost the only part of me I had ever cared about.

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