Taking Home the New Girl

I do love the internet. I love having a venue to express myself and my experiences and my desires. I only wish I had more time to devote to it. I especially wish I had more time to write of some of my experiences. More patience too, since I often start writing something only to reach a point where I'd rather attend to the arousal the writing creates than finish the writing!

It does sadden me though, when on some chat rooms and sites, I hear that so many of the desires expressed are still only fantasies. So many of the women here have yet to experience the very things they desire the most.

I have no such issues. I knew pretty early on about my deepest desires and pursued them with vigour. I only realise now, by being here how lucky I was. I'm not sure what to advise a woman who is out of college how to pursue their first experience with another woman. Even less for a woman who is married or otherwise committed. All I could say is be true to yourself, be brave, take a chance, and don't chicken out, go for it knowing that this will change everything. And use the internet!

It is a different world when you are experienced and past the concerns and fears you might have had if you had not experimented in your youth. Take what happened to me a few months back.

I had just started a new job. Not yet comfortable that I knew what I was doing. Doing monkey work in the mean time until I learned all the terminology, the corporate structure, the systems, etc. And spending a lot of time away from my desk at the training classes my manager had arranged.

I hated the training sessions. I have enough knowledge and experience to know most of the material anyway and for the rest it was hard to find the motivation to pay attention. When they wanted us to split into focus groups and discuss the material before reporting back, I really wanted to start shooting people.

At least I could distract myself by sneaking peeks at one woman sitting at a desk across and to the right of me. I did not catch her name at first. But I found myself a little entranced. She had thick, short hair that was parted on one side. It was dyed an un-natural, very bright yellow, blonde. There were a few streaks of orange through it. Like the colours of a sunset.

I loved her skin, smooth and clear and fair. I like the porcelain complexion. She wore only minimal make up. A little bronzer to accentuate the cheekbones, a thin mascara and a natural-colour lip gloss.

She wore a large pair of glasses with bright red plastic frames. Her jewellery would have been considered tacky on anyone else, with a large plastic heart on one finger, but on her it completed her look.

"I like your ring" I told her and she smiled and thanked me.

I would not say she that she had a chubby face. Not at all. She was very pretty. But she was a big girl. Very tall, quite busty and curvaceous. She reminded me a little of Christina Hendricks. Her clothes in no way hid her form but did not accentuate it either. She wore a long skirt, thick stockings and flat shoes and she kept her jacket on the whole time, which I did too as it was cold in the training room.

I like to think that I don't have a 'type' as far as the women I am attracted to are concerned, although I prefer feminine women to butch ones. But I do find myself enchanted when I find a woman I am attracted to who seems to be different to what I am used to. And she was. Lately I have been finding myself more attracted to taller women, bustier women, curvier women. I think it's simply because they are unlike most of my previous lovers. She was all that and still very feminine and pretty.

On our break I found out her name was Deb and we made some chit chat about work and the weather and what we did before we started here. I found myself wanting to make a connection, but our break was too short and we were soon back at training.

If I was enchanted before, I was well and truly bewitched now. And with her short, parted hair I dared to imagine that she was no stranger to sleeping with women.

After leaving for the day, everything I did for the rest of the evening was a mere distraction from my true purpose. I went to the gym, I went home, I ate my dinner, watched some tv, got ready for bed. And it was only then, lying in bed at the end of the day that I indulged in what I had been holding inside me for hours. I thought about Deb. I tried to imagine how we might find each other, how we would confess to each other, how we would undress each other. I thought about what I needed to do to her, what I needed her to do to me. When I had reached the necessary point, I reached over to open the top drawer of my bedside table, I fished inside for the tube, I spread the lubricant along my fingers and took myself to oblivion.

It's always easy to put a smile on your face on a Friday. It's easier still when you know you are going to meet someone you have a new crush on. I do feel a little strange sometimes though, a little naughty, when I am around someone who doesn't know I recently masturbated while thinking about them.

But there was also a lot of apprehension. I had to ask myself the same awful question I always have to ask myself when I have a crush - do I do anything about it?

She was there when I arrived early for our final training day. I asked how she was while making myself a coffee. I asked if she had plans for the weekend. Still trying to make a connection without trying to look like it was obvious that I was doing that.

I said that I might see a movie. I said I may see 'The Iron Lady'. She said it was really good. That Meryll Streep was amazing and there were times she forgot she was watching Streep and thought she was watching Thatcher.

We started going through all the Streep movies we loved. In a silly way, I kept hoping she would say 'The Hours' but she didn't.

Soon we had to start and it was torture waiting until our break before we could chat again.

When had our break and we could talk again, I told a little white lie and said I hadn't seen 'The Hours', because I didn't think I'd appreciate it if I hadn't read Mrs Dalloway first. She said I shouldn't worry, she couldn't stand Mrs Dalloway and it's stream of consciousness style.

I told the little lie because I wanted to keep our conversation going, see what she thought of 'The Hours' where Streep plays a lesbian (silly I know!) or see if I could change to conversation to books.

At lunch I invited her to join me and I told her I hated stream of consciousness too, and that it was the main reason I have avoided Joyce. But we both love Attwood, every Orange Prize winner we've read, and while we don't have a lot of respect for Picoult we both secretly find her entertaining.

I was so happy. Connection found!

I asked her what she was doing after work. She said she'd probably go home and read. I'd put her in a mood for a quiet night with a book!

I told her I was meeting friends for a couple of beers, nothing big, just a little Friday night unwinding. She asked me where we were meeting. I said at 'Fig Leaves'. 'Fig Leaves' (not it's real name) is a well known g bar that is very lesbian-friendly. My little hint, got from Deb a knowing, suppressed, smile. And I knew then that my intentions towards her were as clear as day and met with quiet approval. I was so happy.

Back from lunch, I could hardly wait until the end of the day. When it finally came, I asked if she was keen to join me in meeting my friends, trying not to sound too concerned. She said it sounded like a good idea, also trying not to sound too eager.

I told her we had plenty of time, we were probably even a little early, so I said, if it was ok with her, I'd like to stop at my flat on the way there and get changed.

We took a bus, making conversation without any effort. She was as cool as a cucumber. I on the other hand was trying not to look so nervous and tense.

My flat was freezing. I told her we would not be long, I'd just brush my teeth, change some clothes and we'll be out. She asked if what she was wearing was ok. I told her she looked great. Told her to make herself at home, grab a drink from the fridge is she wanted, I would not be long.

I brushed quickly, rinsed with mouthwash, and checked myself, I don't know how many times, in the mirror. In my bedroom, I flicked on the heater and kicked off my shoes and tried to decide which perfume I wanted.

Deb flicked on the TV in the lounge and sat herself down on my couch.

I was so nervous I was close to terrified. I always am. I used to think confidence meant not having those fears, not having your heart race a million beats a minute. It, of course, doesn't. It means faking it. It means that people who have known me intimately call me audacious and scandalous because they can't see that I am full of doubt and fear.

'How do I look?' I said a moment before I came around the corner and into the lounge. I stopped and stood there in front of her, naked from head to toe. 'I think you'll be cold', she said. 'I'll be fine', I said and slowly walked towards her, slightly accentuating my movements. She stood up from the couch as I go near and took a step towards me.

When we got near she bent slightly to k me and I stopped her and took her hand. She had such large, soft, hands. I took her hand and drew it between me legs, letting her fingers touch me. 'This is how w you've made me', I said, 'just thinking about you'. Then I let her kiss me.

Taking her by the hand, I led her to my bedroom, and once we were there I let her embrace me and kiss me. 'Do you really have friends waiting for you at Fig Leaves?' she asked. 'You'll never know', I told her with a smile and started undressing her.

She was everything I dreamed she was. Wonderful curves. Large, full and firm b. Amazing soft, smooth skin. And a small area of gentle, soft, golden curls of pubic hair.

I drew away from her and onto the bed, letting her pursue me. She came after me and we kissed and embraced and let our hands caress everywhere, legs entwined, breasts against each other, skin perspiring, feet touching, tongues seeking each other out.

My hand sought her out and I started stroked her there, feeling that she was wet and ready, I let her go and taking her hand drew her off the bed and pushed her towards the corner of my room, where an armchair sat.

I sat her in the chair and kissed her, kissing her on her chest. I traced her nipple with the barest touch from the tip of my tongue, before giving each a big full kiss. Kissing my way down her belly to her pubic hair, I stopped. Putting my hand under her knee, I lifted her leg up and placed it over the arm rest, before bending down to look upon her.

She was very wet and very pink with the excitement of lust. I took in the gorgeous sight of her, took in her amazing scent. And started licking her.

She gasped when my tongue first made contact. As I settled into a rhythm, she started to moan softly with my movements, placing a hand on the back of my head to draw me tighter to her.

Her breathing got quicker, and so did my efforts. She was close. Soon she was forcing my face into her, grinding against me until she came.

She released me and sitting up kissed me, tasting herself on me. 'That was fucking amazing' she said. 'Your turn' she said standing up, I shook my head, and went back to the bed. Laying down, I opened the top drawer of my bedside table and fished out my bottle of lube and my strap-on. 'Oh really?' she said. 'Oh yeah' I said laughing.

I don't normally like using strap-ons. But Deb is just the type of woman I had in mind for it. She put it on, lubed it up and was about to enter me, when I told her to do so slowly. The phallus of my strap-on is a little larger than what I would find comfortable. This is deliberate. I want it to hurt a little.

I felt a release once she was completely inside me. I asked her to go slowly, we were in the missionary position. Not my favourite but it has its good qualities. I like feeling her weight on top of me, her breasts against mine, I like being able to kiss her, to whisper dirty things to her.

She picked up the pace, 'fuck me harder' I said, encouraging her, digging my heels into her backside to force her.

We were sweating a lot now, I had left the heater on. But I liked it, it made it intense and passionate. Once I was done with the missionary position, I asked for a change, with her out of me I turned onto my hands and knees. 'I want to feel you deep inside me' I said looking over my shoulder at her.

There was no warm up this time, I was ready and she went fast and hard at me. Holding me hard by the hips, then she even started pulling on my hair. I was in heaven. This was exactly what I had a strap-on for but never experienced it like this. Neither of these positions make me come however, so it was soon time to switch, so I could be on top.

I started slow, clutching my breasts, looking into Deb's eyes, gently rocking back and forth, up and down. I let go of my breasts and leaned down to kiss her, feeling her breasts against mine again. I took her hands in mine and started riding her harder, letting my breasts rock with my movement, groaning as I felt myself getting close, 'Come for me', I heard her say, and I wanted to now, I was ready, I just needed some dirty talk to put me over the edge. I looked into her eyes told her I wanted to lick her from the moment I saw her. I asked her to tell me that she loved it. She told me that she loved being licked by me. I asked her to tell me that she loves fucking women. She told me she loves fucking women. I told her that I wanted her to promise me something. 'Anything' she said. I asked her to promise me that she'll go down on me later and look into my eyes while she licked my pussy. She said she promises, she said she wanted to lick me more than anything on earth. That was it, I rocked my head back and shivered to a glorious orgasm.

We lay in each other's arms for a long time, drenched in sweat. Later we ordered pizza for dinner, watched 'Julie & Julia', before returning to bed to finish having our fun.

We showered together in the morning, had toast and said au revoir.