I had always hated effeminate men. I don't know why, precisely, since I had always laughed at the term "manly man", but for some reason, effeminate qualities in men never failed to put me off. I didn't precisely go for the boorish sort either - the beer guzzling, foul mouthed uncivilised brute types made me curl my lip in disgust. Too demanding, perhaps. In any case, I had always put it down to my overwhelming heterosexuality. Since I had first conceived of my own sexuality, I had had a distaste for lesbianism. I found the idea of being with another woman distasteful in the extreme. So much so, in fact, that even lesbian pornography revolted me somewhat. I fully supported homosexuality. I simply could not see myself partaking in it, ever.
And then I met Sophie.
I didn't like her. She was three years older than I was, and she'd been the older sister of a guy I'd been seeing. She was blonde, tall, quite beautiful. She had the poutiest set of lips I'd ever seen, and big, wide lovely green eyes. I suppose it was jealousy. She'd never given me any reason to hate her. It was irrational and childish of me. But from the start I'd been antagonistic, and I suppose eventually that had to have some sort of impact. I'd been challenging, almost abrasive ever since I had met her, only to have my snipes taken with pleasantness and humour, and of course that could not last forever.
She walked in on me one afternoon, remarking on a comment she'd made about an issue we'd discussed together to her brother. I'd been quite scathing, but not, I don't think, intentionally in order to insult her. The comment had not been for her ears, after all. But she'd heard it, nonetheless, and I saw the quick flash of anger in her eyes before she left the room, quite quickly. Perhaps that had been the proverbial straw on the camel's back.
We were alone in the house together later. I'd been invited to dinner, but her brother - my bf at the time - had left for a last minute training session his football coach had called. We had a good three hours before he'd be back. I was in his room, sitting on his bed reading when she pushed the door open and walked in.
I looked up from my book. "Hi."
"Hi," she said, somewhat coldly.
I wondered if I should go back to my reading or try to make conversation. I felt a niggle of guilt in the back of my mind and pushed it aside. I'd merely been stating my opinion, after all. It hadn't meant to be insulting. But the guilt wouldn't go away. "Did you hear the news about the new contraceptive device they're putting on the market?" I blurted in a rush. What the devil? I castigated myself. Contraceptive devices? That's your idea of small talk? If I weren't you, I'd slap you.
"Yes. What about it?" Yes, cold. Definitely cold.
I was defensive. "I was just wondering what you thought about it."
She curled her lip. "Why? So you can insult my opinions behind my back again, cupcake?"
For some reason, I shivered. God, I loved being called cupcake. What? Was I going mad? She was clearly, clearly very angry at me. "I know you're angry..." I began.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said cuttingly. "You're hardly worth getting angry over."
"Excuse me," I said, getting rather heated myself, "I don't think there's any call to -"
"I don't know how you keep a straight face," she cut me off. "You're so two-faced, it's not even funny."
I stood up, feeling myself shaking slightly, a surge of adrenaline running through my veins at the same time. "You know, I've had quite enough. I don't know how anybody deals with your insufferable arrogance -"
"Shut up," she said, quite calmly.
"How dare you -"
"Shut up." She took a step towards me, a quite intent expression on her face. In her eyes, I saw hot anger. And then her hand was around my throat, and I thought for a moment that she was perhaps about to choke me to death, but then I felt her mouth on mine, and I was stunned into silence, and immobility.
Her mouth was all at once firm and soft, but pressed quite cruelly against mine. It was not the way I had imagined a girl's mouth would be, soft and yielding. No...it was quite fierce, demanding. Her tongue slid against my lips, pushed inside and I gasped. She took full advantage of the fact, sliding inside fully, probing around, licking at everything, hungrily, devouringly. The hand around my throat relaxed it's grip somewhat, and her other hand slid from my shoulder down my back, settling quite insolently on my bottom. Her lips tugged at my bottom lip, drew it into her mouth, between her teeth. It was that point, I think, that I resigned completely. She had sparked some sort of fire inside me, because I was burning up. I wanted to fuck her...no, that wasn't right.
I wanted her to fuck me.
I slid my arms around her neck, but she drew away, pushed me down on the bed and climbed over me, grabbing my wrists and holding me to the bed while she glared at me. I stared up at her wordlessly, my lips parted, my breath coming in short little breaths. I wondered, briefly, what I was doing. She said nothing, then with a quick, jerky movement pulled her top off over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were full, creamy white, nipples beaded, stiff with arousal. I felt the sudden urge to reach up and cup them. But she was pinning my wrists again, and now her mouth was against my neck, kissing, nibbling, and then biting, lovingly. Her fingers moved to unbutton my blouse - my bra was yanked down and then her lips were fastened on a breast - tongue flicking first at the stiff peak of my nipple, the laving...teeth grazing and then, oh god, sucking. She drew my nipple against the roof of my mouth, suckled fiercely, seeking almost it seemed to engulf the whole of my breast in her mouth. I moaned aloud, my hands sliding into her hair while I held her to me and arched my body, my lips parted in a soundless plea. She moved onto my other breast, and it started all over again.
And now my jeans were being undone, and tugged off my hips. I lifted my bottom to help, and for the first time a tide of misgivings washed over me. What, after all, was I doing? My panties - torn off almost viciously. I opened my mouth to speak - nothing. Then my legs were being parted, and she was looking intently at my cunt. Her hands slid up my thighs, parted them wider. "Soph -" I finally whispered.
She grabbed my hips, and pressed her lips to my glistening lips.
My breath hitched in my throat. Her mouth was soft, incredibly so, moving with deliberate slowness over my sex. She kissed my lips as though she were kissing my mouth, her tongue running over them, her teeth grazing, her mouth sucking. I could not stifle my moans. My hands fisted in the bedsheets. Where I had been damp before, I was wet now, and then I felt the first touch of her tongue against my slit, licking up the seeping moisture. And then not just licking...she was probing, now, sliding her tongue deep into me, lapping, licking, plunging. I whimpered. She slid out, shifted her mouth up a little, flicked at the swelled nub of my clitoris with her tongue. "Oh god," I gasped.
"Saucy tart," I could feel her smiling. "Are you close?"
"Y-yes," I gasped.
"What do you want?"
I thought her mad. "I want - I want to come," I whispered.
"You - your mouth."
"Say it," she kissed my thigh. "Properly. 'I want you to eat me.'"
I was silent for a moment, frozen. Then..."I want you to eat me."
She smirked. "Saucy tart," she said again, and lapped at me. Her tongue ran over my clit, again and again. I could feel my body tensing. I was close...so close. Then her lips were wrapped around my nub, her tongue almost frantically over it again, and I could feel myself tightening. She slid two fingers inside me quickly, roughly, drove them in and out with almost cruel intent, and I felt myself shattering, my spine arching, my cunt tightening around her fingers, a muffled shriek escaping my lips, and then my body collapsing like a deflated doll against the bed.
She crawled up the bed, laid her face against my breasts, and we lay there for a while. It was some time before I could muster up enough energy to return the favour, but when she sat on my face it was with an enthusiasm and hunger I'd never discovered in myself before that I licked, laved, and tasted her.
Her brother returned shortly after we'd cleaned up. I wondered briefly if the smell of sex lingered in his room, but consigned the thought to the back of my mind. During dinner, where I sat across the table from Sophie he asked, casually what we'd done while he was gone.
"Not much," said Sophie. "I had a little snack." She was staring at me while she said it. I could feel myself growing damp again.
"I just lay around on your bed a little," I said, smiling at him. And I fucked your sister.
"That's nice," he said.