tagLesbian SexEgg Sandwiches & Fucking

Egg Sandwiches & Fucking

byPolite New Yorker©

"So what happened with Lloyd?" asks Heather, leaning with one elbow on the table at Pete's Tavern. It's just before noon on a Sunday and the restaurant is filled with the buzz of people eating brunch, a meal favored by fashionable young city dwellers waiting to begin living lives more like their parents.

"I couldn't stand it any more," says Anne. "We weren't right for each other. It was torture for both of us."

They pause as the second round of drinks arrives. The drinks are girl's drinks: daiquiris, vodka tonic, and red wine.

"We all thought that the two of you were great together," says Betty. "You never fought. Nigel and I fight all the time and my phone bill is a hundred dollars in long distance."

"Fighting wasn't our problem. It was something else. He just had something missing. It wasn't right. We had issues."

"What issues?" Erin says.

"We had money issues. He's kind of poor."

"No," says Heather. "C'mon. I know you better than that."

"I'm spoiled. At least I admit it," says Anne.

Betty has come to the bottom of her strawberry daiquiri quickly and orders the table a third round. She speaks up once the waitress has left to get the drink. "Was it big?"

The table erupts in giddy laughter. There are red faces all around.

Anne looks around, then nods her head with guilty pleasure and with both hands makes a circle to illustrate (with hyperbole one would hope) her ex-boyfriend's impressive penile girth. Another explosion of laughter from the table turns a few heads in the buzzing restaurant. A few tables away, a couple of men do a bad job of pretending not to listen.

"Ouch," laughs Betty. "But that's better than having a guy with a small one."

"Here's to more big cock in your future," Heather raises her glass to toast Anne's new freedom. Heather is happy to hear that nice guys like Lloyd can have big dicks.

"It's probably why we stayed together those few weeks extra," says Anne.

"His marvelous cock?" Erin says a bit too loudly. The girls all laugh a breath-exhausting, bladder-straining laughter. Erin turns three shades of red. When they are sufficiently recovered, Erin drops her voice and asks, "So he was your biggest so far?"

"Yeah, and the sex was great but there was no way it could save us."

"Why not ride it out a bit longer? No pun intended."

"Well, the size was a bit awkward. Bigger is better, but it just gets too sore all the time. That's not something you tell a guy: 'I'm sorry but your dick is too big for a long-term relationship.' That's delving into facets of a man's ego I'd rather not explore."

"Was he bigger than Thor?" giggles Heather. Thor, Anne's vibrator, is enormous and has a Nordic design on it like Viking women might have had engraved on their vibrators.

"He was wider than Thor, but not longer. He was like a sex-starved dog on speed. It took away from everything. He once admitted to me that he jerked off before I came over to his place so that when we did it he would last a long time. It was bad: about three quarters of the way through it got painful and kept going thinking he was having problems coming."

"Why do guys always act like they're in competition with you to see who can come last? Either that or they act like they're in a porno movie," complains Betty. "When Nigel and I first started doing it, he would pull out and always try to shoot it in my face or on my tits."

"He didn't have an edge to him. He was too sweet and nice. I could see myself picking up guys at Brother Jimmy's when he's not around."

"Uh-oh," says Erin, who cries out for most of the restaurant to hear, "Free blow jobs for all frat boys on the Upper East Side!"

"SSSSSHHH!!" The table collectively admonishes her.

Anne continues, "And he would write me really terrible stories. He would bring them to me and I'd read them and they were horrible. I couldn't figure out whey he'd want me to read these."

"How bad were they?"

"He had one called Paula's First Boyfriend about a girl who was obsessed with Kermit the Frog – or he used some fictionalized version of Kermit the Frog so he wouldn't get sued, as if anyone would publish it. Anyway, the girl is so obsessed with Kermit the Frog that when she reaches puberty she gets a Kermit the Frog stuffed animal and sews vibrator onto it so she can have sex with it. She never stops either. She becomes an adult and is still fucking her Kermit the Frog doll.

"Then he had a really horrible one called The Abortion Penis where a man has the power to give women abortions by having sex with them. If a woman was even two days late, she could have sex with this guy and if she were pregnant she would miscarry. And no matter how far along a woman was or how gentle he was, she would lose her baby after having sex with this guy. So he hires himself out to abortion clinics as an alternative therapy. It lets women abort their babies without having an actual abortion."

"That's pretty sick," says Erin, thinking of the (non-intercourse-induced) abortion she had had a few years ago. She hadn't told any of her friends. Her boyfriend at the time gave her some money but didn't go with her to the clinic.

"He wrote it after I had told him I was five days late. I got it after we did it that night. He came up with this theory that good enough sex could cause an early miscarriage and that 'additional fucking' was the only birth control we should use."

"But he was only joking," says Heather.

"Yeah, but that's still too weird. He did other things too. When we went to Boston for his friend's wedding, he walked all over the hotel to look for the most remote and least-used men's room."

Anne continued, "He wrote poems for me when I wanted to go out and do things. He hated going to dance clubs. He begged me to let him watch me pee."

"What?!?" Heather and Betty were surprised.

"Did you?" asks Erin.

"No!"

"Why not?

"I don't want anyone watching me pee! That's disgusting!"

"It's not disgusting. I pee on Lenny all the time."

"Ieeewwww," Betty and Anne grimace. Heather laughs.

Erin smiles in mature disbelief. "How is that disgusting?

"It just is," says Anne. "Does he pee on you?

"No. It doesn't work that way. Not with us, anyway."

"And what does he do after you pee on him?" asks Anne.

"He cleans up and then he usually goes down on me for a little while before we do it."

"That's gross," says Anne.

"Having a guy go down on you is gross?"

"Right after I pee it is."

"No, think about it: instead of having a roll of toilet paper there you have your man's eager face."

"What's really gross is how all guys ask for anal these days," says Erin, changing the subject. "And…"

"It's the last taboo," reports Heather, who let a poorly endowed boyfriend up her poop shoot when she was in graduate school. She didn't really like it but she could see how some women might.

"Can we get the word out to the men of the world that if they want anal they should go gay and get in on with other guys?" says Erin.

"Hey men of the world!" yells Anne. "Quit asking us for a-"

Heather throws her arms around Anne to cup a hand over her mouth.

Betty speaks up, "Well when did things start to go wrong for you and Lloyd? Did he slip his big cock up your ass?"

"No! The first time I had a real feeling that things were going downhill was when he didn't take me ice skating. I really wanted to go ice skating and he said he couldn't afford it."

"So?"

"So it ticked me off. He had said he was going to take me but then he said he was out of money. He got all indignant about it too. He said 'You don't understand Anne, I have twenty dollars in the bank right now!'"

"So then he really was broke."

"I guess. He had these awful carpets in his apartment – these ugly red carpets, ugh," Anne grimaces.

"So what's his nickname going to be? What boyfriend is Lloyd going to be?" asks Erin. Erin started giving everyone's ex-boyfriends nicknames since she broke up with 'Handsome,' who was named so not because he was particularly attractive but because he drove a horse-drawn Handsome Cab around Central Park. Heather used to ride with him and once have him a hand job beneath their riding blanket while he chauffeured a dotty old couple around one November night.

"Lloyd was the Egg Sandwiches and Fucking boyfriend."

"Egg Sandwiches and Fucking?"

"Yes. Just about every single Sunday we would wake up at his place and he would make egg sandwiches for the both of us."

"And then you'd fuck?" asks Heather, picturing Anne naked and having sex while eating an egg sandwich.

"Yeah."

"Instead of doing it the night before?" asks Erin.

"No, we'd do it then too."

"You go Anne!" Betty cheers, raising her daiquiri.

"You wouldn't make love?" Betty asks jokingly. She and Nigel either schtup or shag.

"We'd sometimes start making love, but we'd always end up fucking."

Erin raises her glass for a toast. "Here's to fucking."

"That's so cute," opines Heather. "Can I have his phone number? I want to ask him out."

"Heather! That's awful!" says Betty.

"Why? I need cock too."

"But only half the time," chimes in Erin.

"Well I'm still waiting for my half! If Lloyd's cock is as big as Anne says then half of it is all I would need."

"No," says Anne stubbornly. She lifts her glass and prepares to take another healthy sip of wine. "It would be too awkward. I couldn't handle the idea of the two of you together."

"You sure he's not gay?" asks Erin, burning back to Anne. "Because if Heather thinks he's cute then he must be gay."

Heather laughs, shakes her head in mock disbelief.

"If he was gay he wouldn't have such a filthy apartment," reports Anne.

The waitress approaches the table and leans down. "The gentlemen who were sitting at that table over there paid your tab. They wanted me to extend their thanks and appreciation for your conversation."

The women turn red with embarrassment. How many other diners heard their tales of sexual woe? How strong were their drinks that they got that loud that fast? But getting a free meal out of it? They should do this every week. For the third time they order one last round of drinks.

Anne excuses herself.

Heather follows behind Anne as they go down the stairs and towards the restrooms. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Heather reaches out and touches Anne on the shoulder.

"Hey Anne, I just want to say," she pauses, unsure how to go on. "I'm not telling you to get back with Lloyd or anything, but don't be so dismissive of the people that love you."

Anne rolls her eyes.

"Trust me Anne. In the real world, there isn't a big dick waiting for you in every bed. There aren't cute guys waiting to cook you eggs and eat your pussy lined up around the corner. Most women wouldn't dump a guy over not being able to afford ice-skating. Besides, if you're looking for someone who wants to eat you and fuck you…"

Heather runs her fingers down Anne's arm. She stopped at her hand and gently curls her fingers around Anne's hand. Anne leans forward just enough to get a light kiss on the lips. Heather puts her arms around her and they hold each other and kiss again. Instead of letting her go, Heather pulls her a big closer and gives her a deeper kiss. They stop when they hear footsteps coming down the steps. It is a tubby bald man with glasses who lumbers along and into the men's room.

Once the men's room door closes, Heather gives a quick look towards the stairs. The coast is clear and she takes Anne by the arm and brings her into the women's bathroom. She locks the door and presses Anne against the wall and kisses her some more. They slip their tongues inquisitively in and out of each other's mouths. Heather's hands find their way under Anne's shirt and began to gently knead her breasts through her bra. Anne lets out a surprised and excited sigh. Having her breasts touched drives her crazy. She runs her fingers through Heather's curly hair as Heather kisses and bites her neck.

Heather pushes up on Anne's bra and Anne's full breasts fall into her hands. She kneads them some more, running her fingers over the nipples until they're very hard. Anne lets out a slow moan and kisses Heather hard, putting her tongue far into Heather's mouth and biting down a bit on her lip. Anne brings her hands around to Heather's breasts. Heather's breasts are perky and small and fit perfectly in Anne's hands. She massages them lightly, too excited by Heather's touch to focus on them.

Heather unbuttons Anne's pants. She moves her hand down and over Anne's panties and feels her warmth and dampness. She can smell Anne's musk and it makes her imagine long evenings in bed with Anne and having Anne's smell all over her.

"Relax," Heather says. "I want to make you come. Just relax. I'll be gentle."

"Don't be too gentle."

Heather slides her hand inside Anne's panties. Her hand gently passes over Anne's bush and feels her full parting lips and wet opening. Heather rubs the clit gently with her fingers and Anne takes a sharp breath in. After a bit, Heather slowly inserts two fingers and Anne tenses up but then relaxes. Heather moves her fingers inside Anne lightly until Anne is slick with arousal.

Heather works her hand against Anne's clit while her two fingers work their way in and out of her. She presses against her and kisses and bites Anne's neck while her free hand squeezes Anne's breast.

Before she has time to think, Anne comes quickly in a short series of jerks and gasps. She nestles her head in Heather's neck to try to stifle her cries. Heather's fingers are coated with Anne's thick cum. Anne freezes for a moment, catches her breath. Heather slows and stops moving her hand. They kiss some more.

They fix their clothing and wash up before leaving. They step out under the glare of five impatient women who are waiting in line for the restroom.

The two avert their eyes and head for the stairs. "We'll finish this conversation later," says Anne.

"Absolutely."

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