Danielle

With the refreshing hot water cascading down my body in the shower, I never heard the phone ring. I was standing on the bath mat toweling off, when my cell phone message center alerted me. It was Danielle.

"Hey Sara, I'll be home around seven tonight, see you then. Call me if you want me stop at the supermarket and pick something up," Danielle's sensual voice said.

Just hearing her sent shivers up and down my spine.

"Last night was amazing, oh God was it ever!" I silently thought to myself.

My euphoria about Danielle had produced a vibrant tingling in my crotch. I lay back on my bed and rubbed my sore pussy furiously.

After I diddled myself to a noisy orgasm, I greedily sucked the tart fluid off my fingers.

"Girl's right, tastes good like a pussy should," I muttered to myself.

My mood changed when I thought about Danielle's estranged husband. He had filed for a divorce and the shit would hit the fan. Then what?

"Christ Jesus, I wish I knew the answer," I said out loud in the empty house.

For a moment, I sounded like my dad when he and I fought like cats and dogs in my early teens. Remembering him brought a tear to my eye.

"I miss you dad," I silently reflected and said a quick prayer for him.

"You're late for work," my brain screamed at me. But, I remained immobilized as recollections of my childhood took shape in my mind.

"You're a long way from Omaha," I said to myself.

A parade of memories marched through my mind and refused to go away.

Thanks for the Memories:

I could see the quiet suburban neighborhood where I grew up on the outskirts of Omaha. My house on Apple Orchard Lane looked the same with the nicely landscaped yard and white picket fence; corny but true.

My folks were conservative Christians with two children, a girl and a boy. My older brother Josiah or Joe was a loving sibling who watched over me.

Dad worked for the postal service and mom was a secretary at the high school. Even with two kids, there never seemed to be enough money.

"God will provide," My dad would say solemnly.

When I was a child, I believed him but by the time I was fourteen, I would mutter under my breath,

"Bullshit!"

In middle school, my wardrobe was pathetic and I felt like a freak. Forget trying to buy outfits at the mall, we shopped at the marts; Walmart and Kmart.

I had an independent and brazen streak that annoyed my mom and dad but especially my dad. It seemed like we fought about everything. My dad was the disciplinarian with the might of religion on his side. I not only feared him but disliked him and kept my distance.

Most of the confrontations started to occur when I was fourteen. My skirts were too short for church, too much makeup, no dating till you're sixteen, in by ten pm on the weekend and on and on.

My father held a scripture reading/bible study once a month on a Friday night at our house. Yep, my brother and I were expected to attend and be prepared to discuss whatever topic was the focus.

One Friday night stands out in particular. I wanted to go with my friends to the mall. I couldn't buy anything but at least I could dream. At dinner, my father flatly refused to let me out of bible study.

When my dad asked me to talk about a passage I was supposed to read ahead of time, I told him I thought it was pointless and I failed to derive any meaning from it.

Josiah was chuckling under his breath but my father was red faced and madder than I had ever seen him. He kept his self control and marched me to my room. I lay on my bed with thoughts of running away and other crazy ideas until I heard everyone leaving.

Fear and I mean real fear took hold of me until I heard loud arguing that got closer until it was outside my door.

"Jacob, if you go in there, I will never forgive you," I heard my mothers' voice say.

"Spare the rod, spoil the child!" my dad's voice thundered.

"Listen to me! She's a teenager and wants to be with her friends. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?" my mothers voice asked pleadingly.

Shockingly, there was no response from my father and I heard footsteps retreat into the living room. My door opened and I looked at my mother with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Young lady, you are grounded for two weeks and I mean two weeks. You will do the dinner dishes every night, fold the laundry and help me clean the entire house on Saturday. Is that clear?" She said emphatically in a slightly raised voice.

"Yes ma'am," I said with a defeated air.

I was beginning to think the paddle was probably better. Yeah, it hurt and was downright humiliating but being grounded for two weeks was an eternity to a teenager. Smart woman my mom, she clearly knew what punishment hurt the most and used it frequently to keep me in line.

Girls Will Be Girls:

When I wasn't grounded, I was spending most of my free time with my friends, Taylor in particular. Her folks weren't bible thumpers so I was always at her house.

Boys were the main topic of conversation among our circle of girlfriends. They endlessly talked about who was the cutest, hottest, had the nicest eyes, etc.

Although I always threw my two cents in, I wasn't even close to the obsession level some girls reached. I used to blame my tepid interest for boys on the fact I didn't get my period until I was fifteen. Talk about late bloomer!

But, it wasn't long before I discovered that I was interested in girls. During sleepovers in warm weather when everyone sat around in skimpy tops and panties, I was checking out my friends bodies.

In spite of my rebellious nature, it was my strict Christian values that had me in denial for a long time. Sure, I looked at my friends but I would never act on it. The scriptures were specific about same sex matters; no, no, never, not ever.

It's funny, but my folks didn't know that I prayed long and hard practically every day in the privacy of my room asking for strength and guidance from God. My prayers worked up to a point.

The summer before my senior year in high school, Taylor and I started working at a popular teen clothing store at the mall. With my employee discount, I could finally afford to wear stylish clothes.

Always on the thin side, I started filling out in all the right places. At least my prayers for curves and boobs were answered. By Christmas break, I had developed the kind of body that most girls spend a lifetime in the gym trying to acquire. And, Lord Almighty did I give thanks!

My social life took off and I dated guys who the previous year wouldn't give me the time of day. Thanks to my job at the mall, I had nice clothes to wear. I started an exercise program because I wanted to keep my gift from God (yes, I believed it was a gift from God and still do) in tip top shape.

Not long after my eighteenth birthday my mother poked her head in my bedroom door. It irritated me because I was packing an overnight bag for a sleepover at Taylor's and I was already late

"Sara, I want to talk to you," my mother said in a serious voice and closed my door.

"What's up?" I asked and kept packing.

"Your father and I noticed that you look...ah...a lot more mature and..." her voice trailed off.

"Mom, is this about sex?" I asked her with an incredulous expression on my face.

"We never had the facts of life talk and...well...better late than never," she stated uneasily.

"Mom, I learned about this in sex education class," I stated firmly.

My mother was gazing at me with a confused look but she plowed ahead and gave me a watered down biology lesson. When she concluded, I was convinced that I knew much more about the human anatomy than she did. But, I gave her points for trying.

With H.S. graduation a memory and the start of college on the horizon, I was nervously contemplating my unrequited feelings for my own gender. My experience level was nil.

At the post graduation and summer parties, I was acutely aware of the stares and appreciative looks I was getting from both sexes. But, the female stares were the ones that really intrigued me. I was flattered that a few of my friends seemed interested but one in particular surprised me.

I was in Taylor's bedroom trying on a bag full of just bought summer clothes and I wanted her honest opinion.

"Too slutty?" I asked biting my lower lip.

Taylor was looking me up and down.

"Nah, looks good," she stated positively.

When I was down to my bra and panties, I got the feeling that Taylor was really giving me the once over. Discreetly, out of the corner of my eye, I could tell by the expression on her face that she was.

Taylor, my best friend since first grade, had the hots for me. She had no idea about my desires. My religious upbringing started exerting its power over me but my sex drive was not to be denied and kicked it to the curb.

I purposely lingered with the other outfits and carried on a normal conversation. By the time I finished, Taylor looked hot and bothered. But, the coup de grace came when I tried on two bikinis.

Under normal circumstances and for modesty sake, I would have turned around but instead, I took my good old time. When my bra made the slow descent down my arms and my tits came into view, Taylor's eyes grew wide.

My panties followed and she gawked at my groomed blonde bush. When my body under went its metamorphosis, I discovered the pleasures of masturbation. On many an occasion, I fingered myself with fantasies of girls faces buried between my thighs, licking me to nirvana.

When my "strip show" was over, Taylor was unusually quiet and introspective. I was standing in front of her with a pair of panties my only attire.

"Something bothering you?" I asked knowing full well what it was.

"No...ah..." she faltered.

Taylor was a very cute blonde with a trim sexy body.

"The way you've been staring at me, I thought maybe you had something to say," I said with brutal honesty.

Taylor looked at me with astonishment but slowly lowered her head with a shameful expression.

"Sorry," she said apologetically.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked.

"Oh, I ah...don't want you to be mad at me," she said sheepishly with her head down.

"Who said I was mad," I shot back.

Taylor's face had a surprised look.

"Do you like my body?" I inquired sexily.

"Uh huh" she said eagerly

While Taylor's face was flush, my pussy was twitchy and damp.

I decided to make the first move and sat on the end of her bed with my legs slightly parted. My nipples were hard and aching for some attention.

Taylor was gawking at me with a starved look.

"I want this to happen as much as you do," I said with a sultry voice and opened my legs wider.

"I not sure what to do," she stated shyly.

"You've never had your pussy eaten?" I asked with skepticism.

"Uh yeah, Kristin, Ava, Steph, Rachel..." it was like she was reading off a list.

"Wait a minute, I'm your best friend and you never told me any of this?" I asked with annoyance.

"Gosh Sara, I didn't know how you felt about you know...girl sex. I thought you might be offended," she said timidly.

I was sure that my religious background was a big factor in Taylor's decision.

"I guess I'm ready to find out what it's like," I stated a little crestfallen.

"You mean...you haven't...before, I should have known," she stated wisely.

"It's my first time," I said sheepishly.

Taylor sat next to me and put her arm around me. She was looking at me with the sweetest expression but the mood was ruined and I felt like a naïve fool. My eyes started to tear up.

'Hey, don't cry," she said kindly and held me close.

"It's just that I've had these feelings...and..." I sputtered to a stop.

Taylor handed me my top. I could tell by her expression that the gears were spinning in her crafty mind.

"I think I know how we can...ah...solve the dilemma," she said mysteriously.

"How?" I asked with a hopeful expression.

"You remember Chelsea from senior English class, brown hair, pretty..." She asked.

"You mean Chelsea Brandon, she's one of the prettiest girls at school," I stated with surprise.

"Yeah, that's true but she's also a very eager pussy hound," she stated factually.

"You and her..." I said with amazement

"Oh yeah! I found out at Kristen's one night," she said with a wink.

I was speechless.

"I went home very satisfied and ah...sore. If you get my drift," she said smiling broadly.

Taylor jumped off the bed and clapped her hands together.

"Ok, leave everything to me. Just be here Friday around eight for a sleepover," she stated confidently.

Friday evening, Taylor, Chelsea and I went to a pizza joint and exercised our jaws with a lot of chatter about school.

I was wearing a bare midriff sleeveless T, tight shorts and flip flops. During the conversation, I saw Chelsea discreetly checking me out.

Our friend Stephanie was a having a party and we stopped to mingle and have a couple of beers. It seemed like the entire graduating class was on her patio and around the pool. I quickly lost Taylor in the crowd but Chelsea stuck close to me.

It was great to see everybody again and I went over my self imposed two beer limit. Chelsea and I talked as though we were old friends and I discovered that she was a genuinely nice person.

My fourth beer was history when the party started breaking up and I was a little unsteady on my feet. With Chelsea's arm for support, we walked back to Taylor's.

Taylor's dad had the pop up camper in the backyard with sleeping bags, lanterns, the whole works. I grasped Taylor's reasoning for the tent. Her folks had the central air on in the house. With all the windows closed, they wouldn't be able to hear any cries of passion.

With the warm night air, Taylor stripped to her panties. Chelsea and I looked at each and did the same. We were lying on our sides, facing each other.

My head was buzzing from the beer as I gazed at Chelsea's sexy boobs; smallish but round and topped with tight pink kisses.

Chelsea was eying my chest and I felt my nipples harden from her gaze. When she licked her lips with a hungry look, my pussy started creaming.

Without saying a word, Chelsea's head with mouth open, moved to my chest. I watched with awe as her lips attached themselves to a stubby nipple. She gently licked and new sensations coursed through my body.

Chelsea went back and forth, giving each tit equal time using a lick/suck technique that had me gasping. Hot pulses of sensation singed my pussy and were growing in intensity.

I gently held her head and watched with sheer pleasure as her lips tugged and pulled while her tongue flicked across the ends. The feeling was beyond description.

With my pussy throbbing uncontrollably, I hoped up on a seat and leaned back. My nipples were still pulsating, sending little jolts into my gash. Her fingers impatiently tugged my underwear down my legs and I knew my fantasy was about to become a reality.

Chelsea licked up each thigh avoiding my slit which was yawing open. I watched transfixed when her tongue took its first long lick up my slice and I groaned from the exquisite feeling.

My eyes remained glued to Chelsea's tongue as it sluiced through and dug into my sensitive folds. Soon it was moving up and down like greased lightening. Waves of sensation pulsed deep in my gash and I pushed hard against her incredible mouth. Her tongue lashed my clit mercilessly with countless whips and butterfly licks.

With her hands firmly gripping my butt, Chelsea ate my heaving pussy until waves of sensation grew to mind boggling intensity. I cried out when the biggest orgasm of my life burst intently in my slice.

Cries and yelps flew out of my mouth as intense contractions rolled and swept over me. Her lips and tongue relentlessly gobbled my slit until my head was flailing from side to side and another set of spasms rocked my pussy.

My friends had told me you never forget your first time and I knew that the experience was permanently etched in my memory.

When I looked down at Chelsea, my juices were dripping off her chin. I heard squishing noises behind me and turned to see Taylor rabidly fingering her pussy. Chelsea jumped over me and buried her face in Taylor's crotch.

The experience was beyond extraordinary.

I was sitting with Taylor in her bedroom the night before I left for college. Quietly, I was recalling my wonderful experience with Chelsea.

"God, it was freakin amazing!" I gushed.

"You know Sara, you and I have some unfinished business, she said with a sly look.

"We do?" I asked with confusion.

Taylor was staring at my crotch.

"Oh, you want to..."

"Yeah, I still do," she said emphatically.

Although surprised, I moved up and sat on the side of her bed with my arms behind me and a shit eating grin on my face.

"You know, Chelsea told me you had the juiciest pussy she ever ate," Taylor said as she pulled my shorts and panties down and off.

My breathing was already heavier as I draped my legs over her shoulders.

"I guess I'm gonna find out," she said in a breathy voice.

Taylor gorged on my quaking gash with as much determination as Chelsea. At one point she raised her dripping face.

"Yeah, Chelsea was right," she stated convincingly and dug her furiously lapping tongue into my slit.

Dear Dad:

Although I was nervous about college, I was looking forward to it. The car was stuffed with luggage and boxes as my dad drove along the interstate looking for the correct exit.

"Dad, I think we missed it," I said dryly.

While my dad looked for the turn off, I marveled at how our relationship had changed. He had softened considerably and was much more loving and kind.

We had normal conversations and I discovered that he was actually quite intelligent. In high school I maintained an "A" average and many times he told me how proud of me he was. He was very supportive of all my school activities and never missed a soccer game or chorus concert.

My dad was instrumental in helping me choose the right college. He drove me to different schools for preview days and co signed student loans for me. We discussed the various schools and what my options were.

Often, he would tell me that he loved me and what a terrific daughter I was. That meant the world to me.

My dad found the exit and in ten minutes we were unloading at my dorm. When everything was safely put away, I walked down to the car with him.

"I love you dad, thanks for everything" I said affectionately and hugged him very tight.

When I looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. I squeezed him again as my eyes welled up too.

"I love you too Sara," he said with emotion.

During my time at college, we became very close and had a great father/daughter relationship.

When I went home for the holidays, I hugged him tight and told him that I loved him. He sat and listened attentively with a beaming face as I talked for hours about everything that was going on at the college.

Whenever, I needed his help or advice he was always ready to oblige no matter how big or small the problem.

The Ecstasy and the Agony:

To me, college seemed like a four year whirlwind of activity. While I had my share of bi curious flings, my desire for romantic love went unsatisfied until sophomore year when I met someone that stirred my heart.

Olivia was a smoldering beauty from Florida with an obvious Latin heritage. I met her swimming laps at the campus pool and when she hauled her body out of the water, my jaw nearly dropped on the ground.

Olivia was not only fit but had a lean and sculpted physique. The girl had one kick ass body.

While I'm not an expert on the rules of attraction, I was cognizant of a spark between us. I was sitting on a bench seat by the pool when Olivia walked by me to retrieve her towel. She smiled and sat drying her body but slanted in my direction.