|Dear Jessica (Jane's First)
by Liv Blake ©
It was great to get your letter. Turn me on a bit? A BIT? Talk about an understatement. I have to tell you, Jessica, that I really enjoyed it a LOT. It did more for me than anything I've read for ages. Just what it did, well, that's another story. Maybe some other time, but let's just say that it really hit the spot.
And now I suppose it's my turn. Your description of your first time really did the trick for me and so I hope you don't mind if I follow your example. You asked me not to mind if you were being a bit literary at times, and so I hope you'll return the compliment now. This is a story which begins a long time before it really starts. Don't worry, you'll see what I mean.
It was during my first year at university. I was nineteen, studying French in London. One day I'd been to Camden Market and was waiting for a bus into town, when I noticed someone in the same queue, a woman with black hair in a long coat, probably in her late 'twenties, who looked really familiar but who I couldn't place. It bugged me, because I've normally got a good memory for faces, but try as I might I couldn't remember where I knew her from. She must've noticed me looking at her in a puzzled sort of way, because she kept darting glances at me as well and frowning to herself when she looked away.
Well, when the bus came we both took it. The woman was in front of me in the queue and so she got on before me. She went upstairs. It was pretty full and there were no free seats downstairs, so I went upstairs too. There was an empty seat next to her and she gave me a glance and a little smile, so I thought I might as well sit beside her.
For the first couple of minutes neither of us said anything. She was just looking out of the window and I was too timid to say anything, but then the bus went round a corner and I got pushed against her. I apologised, and that kind of broke the ice.
"You were looking at me at the bus stop, weren't you?" she said. The voice, too, rang a bell. It was deep and musical, not the sort you hear every day. Where did I know it from?
"Yes, I can't help feeling I've seen you before, and I just can't put my finger on it."
"This bus? I take it quite often."
"No, not this bus, longer ago."
"Are you from London?" she asked.
"Not really, I'm studying here. I've only been here a few months."
"Where are you from, then?"
I told her.
"Did you go to school there?"
"Yes, to the girls' high school."
"That's it!" she said, and smiled. "I was a teacher there, just for a term, but I have to say I don't really remember you. I didn't teach you, did I?"
"No, I was in the other class, but I remember you now. Miss Walsh, isn't it?"
Yes, Miss Walsh. How could I have forgotten? When I was thirteen I'd had quite a crush on Miss Walsh. Along with half the other girls in my year. Just one of those teenage things. Embarrassing to think about now, really, but natural enough too. In our dull little world she'd shone like a star, with her long jet black hair, thick eyebrows like a goddess from ancient Egypt, and her distinctly offbeat taste in clothes. No surprise she'd ended up in London.
"Oh, don't call me Miss Walsh. Call me Penny. Please."
"OK, Penny, I'm Jane."
I put my hand out and she shook it. I met her eyes with mine and we gave each other a smile. The hair was a lot shorter now, cut into a neat bob instead of halfway down her back, but it still looked as thick and black as I remembered it, and she was still as attractive as she had been six years before, perhaps with a few lines added here and there, but not much else. She had lovely eyes, dark brown, and they smiled too. We started off by talking about what we were doing now - me studying, her still teaching - but soon we were busy reminiscing about the old days and people we both knew. It was fun and the journey passed quickly, despite the traffic jams which slowed the bus to a crawl.
"This is my stop," I said as we approached Tottenham Court Road.
"Mine too," she said, and so we got off together.
"Which way are you going?" Penny asked.
"Just to the library. Why?"
"Well, I was wondering if you had time for a coffee or something."
"That would be nice," I said, and so we went off and found a little place to sit and continue our chat. I'd enjoyed the school, on the whole, and it sounded as if she had too, but I could remember that she'd only stayed the one term. Once that had occurred to me I felt this real urge to ask her why, and so as soon as the chance presented itself I took it.
She laughed in an embarrassed-sounding way and tried to change the subject, but I can be a nosy little bitch when I want to and so I didn't give her the chance.
"You don't want to know that and even if you think you do you don't really need to," she said, but I could tell from the way she was saying it that she only needed a bit of pushing and she'd tell me.
I pushed her.
"Oh, it was stupid. I had an affair and they found out and told me it would be best if I left."
"Is that all? In this day and age?"
"Yes," she said, and laughed again.
"Come on, tell me!" I almost shouted, so that people at the nearby table turned to look.
"OK, OK, it was the maths teacher."
"What? Mr Phillips?" I couldn't believe my ears. This Penny couldn't have been more than about twenty-four at the time and really good-looking and nice, and Mr Phillips had been about fifty and ugly as hell and boring and just totally awful all round.
"No, not Mr Phillips, stupid," she hissed. "He wasn't the only maths teacher."
"Oh my God!" There had been another maths teacher. A woman. Her name was Miss Gladstone but she got us all to call her by her first name, Julia, and I honestly think everybody who hadn't had a crush on Penny had had one on her. She was an eye-catching woman if ever there was, what some people might call statuesque, with lovely golden hair, and I don't mind telling you that right then the mental picture of these two writhing round together and up to God knows what hit me right in the stomach.
"Are you shocked?" Penny asked after I'd been silent for a minute or two.
"Well, to be honest, yes, a bit."
"Don't be. It's perfectly natural. Lots of people are up to it."
"Maybe, but not the sort of people I know."
"You might be surprised," she said with a sly grin.
"And you? Are you still, er...?"
"With Julia? No. We split up almost as soon as I left. It wasn't anything very serious."
"And are you with anybody else?"
"What's it to you?"
"Nothing," I said, but like I said, I can be a nosy bitch at times. And maybe there was something else in my mind as well, though I'm pretty sure I would have been righteously shocked and denied it to myself right then. Like they say, it's a wise person who knows themselves. Or something like that.
"So no, I'm not with anybody, woman, man or beast. Not even a cat. And what about you? Have you got a boyfriend?"
"Not right now. And no girlfriend either, before you ask."
"OK," she laughed. "Take it easy."
So I took it easy. She took it easy, too, and we talked about other things. I couldn't help feeling, though, that there was a shadow over the conversation now, something which had come up from somewhere deep down and raised its head for a minute, and although it had gone back, we both knew it was there. But it didn't stop me from enjoying being with her. I had more of a feeling of fun and warmth and pleasure from our conversation than I'd had with anyone else in ages. When she excused herself for a minute I was amazed to look at my watch and to find that we'd been talking for over two hours.
"I've got to go," I said when she came back.
"All right. Would you like to meet again some time? I really enjoyed myself this afternoon."
"Me too. Yes, let's meet again."
And so we did. We had lunches together, drinks together, we went to the shops, the cinema, the theatre, and nothing happened at all. At first I was nervous in case she tried it on with me, then after a while I relaxed. And then after a while longer I realised that I was starting to think about her. I had these visions at night of her rolling round in bed with Julia Gladstone and wondered how it would feel if it was me instead, wondered how it would feel to be kissed by her, held by her, made love to by her. I thought they were just bits of my old crush coming back, but if I was honest with myself, which, most of the time at least, I wasn't, I had to admit they weren't. I was slowly getting quite interested in Penny in a way that got less and less abstract as time went by and the stupid thing was that she didn't seem to notice. Of course, now I know what rubbish that was, that she was perfectly aware of what was going on and that I would be much too shy to make a move, but maybe she was shy too - I certainly didn't give her any encouragement worth mentioning - or maybe she was just playing a waiting game until the right moment came along. Which, of course, it did.
"Would you like to come to my place for dinner tomorrow night?" she said one Thursday lunchtime as we sat with our espressos in one of our regular meeting places.
I'd never been to her place. She'd never invited me before. I looked into her eyes. She looked back into mine and said nothing.
"Yes," I answered after a long silence, and wondered how it was that I could sound and look so calm when inside me a tropical storm was brewing up. "I'd love to."
It felt like I was burning a bridge.
Seven thirty the next evening found me somewhere in the back of beyond up in Crouch End, ringing on the bell of the ground floor flat of a small terraced house in a long terraced street, bottle of wine in hand and stomach churning at the thought of what might happen, equal measures of curiosity, excitement and sheer terror with a good dash of lingering moral doubt thrown in just for flavour. I was in a right state.
"Sorry, I was on the phone," Penny said when she finally opened the door after I'd rung three times. "Come on in and give me your coat. The living room's through there. I'll be with you in a tick."
The tick lasted five minutes. I spent it walking round looking at the pictures and the things on the shelves. It felt like a room I could be comfortable in. I was still looking when she came in.
"Just sorting out the dinner," she explained. "Do you want a drink or would you like the guided tour?"
I took the tour. It didn't last long, just the living room, kitchen, bathroom and one bedroom, everything designed very much for solitary occupation, although I did notice that she had a double bed.
"Something smells good," I said when we went into the kitchen.
"Well, it's either the chicken or me."
"Does the chicken wear Chanel?" I asked.
She looked at me over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow and gave me one of her slow mysterious smiles. Hidden meanings and doubles entendres like that were something we both enjoyed and used a lot.
"The food won't be ready for a while," she said, "so let's have a drink in the living room while we wait."
We took a glass of sherry each and got comfortable, her on the sofa, me in an armchair.
"You're looking good," she said.
"So are you," I replied. She was, too. Simply but stylishly dressed in a black cashmere V-neck sweater and figure-hugging black trousers, barefooted, and no visible make-up to speak of apart from a hint of eyeshadow, she sat there on the sofa with her legs folded underneath her. I was glad she hadn't dressed up for the occasion, because I hadn't. I just had on a pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater I'd got in France and my hair, which is long, dead straight, and brown (although in the right light some might call it chestnut), was scraped back close to my head and in a ponytail at the back.
We sat, we drank our sherry, we went and ate our dinner at the little table in the kitchen (chicken in a herb sauce with rice and salad, if you're interested, and very nice too) and we had some wine with that, then we went back to the living room and listened to some music and drank a bit more wine, but mostly we did what we usually did, talked a lot and laughed a lot as we did so.
That's not to say that there weren't, er, overtones during the evening. There was lots of meaningful eye contact held for just a split second too long, lots of little innuendoes that weren't followed up, brushes of our legs under the table as we ate and that sort of thing, but nothing from her that even looked as if it was meant to be leading anywhere and, as for me, well, I was just too timid to make the first move. At one point, when we were back in the living room after dinner, her face can't have been more than about six inches from mine as she poured some wine for me, so close that I could see every detail of it as if it was under a microscope, and I wondered whether she was going to try to kiss me and how I was going to respond if she did, but no, she went back to the sofa and carried on talking.
Just like in the café that first time, I was amazed when she went out of the room for something and I looked at my watch. It was past midnight. I'd had no idea it was anything like that late.
"It's late," I said when she came back in.
"Mmm, I know. What do you want to do?"
"I suppose I'd better call for a taxi. No way I'm going by night bus."
"Why not stay?"
"Yes, stay. Here. It's Saturday tomorrow. Neither of us has to be anywhere, do we? We can lie in, have breakfast, and then, well, whatever you like."
"Yes, but I haven't got anything to sleep in."
"That never bothers me, but if you need something, it's no problem, I can lend you something. There's not such a huge difference in size between us, is there?"
"Right then, I'll stay," I said, and again my nostrils filled with the smell of burning bridges.
We stayed up about another half an hour, the conversation becoming more and more intermittent as time went on and then finally stopping altogether. Both of us could feel perfectly clearly that there was something in the air, something impending, but for what seemed like an age it was as if neither of us really knew how to break the spell of the moment.
"So why don't you come into the bedroom and pick yourself something to sleep in?" Penny said in the end. I walked through behind her and chose a plain white baggy T-shirt from what she offered me.
"Where do you want to sleep?" she asked. "There's either here or on the sofa. I've got a sleeping bag if you want it."
Clever Penny, putting the onus on me. Sensible me sat on my left shoulder yelling at me to take the sofa and the easy way out, adventurous me sat on the right telling me to take a chance and see what happened. No guessing who won.
"In here," I said.
"So if you want to use the bathroom you can do that and I can quickly do the washing-up. There's a towel and a spare toothbrush if you need them."
In the bathroom I let my hair down and brushed it out, stripped down to my panties (white, very lacy, very cute) and quickly washed my face and under my arms. I thought about washing between my legs, too. I was sure I must be very wet there with the way I'd been feeling for hours now, but then I decided not to bother. After all, I'd had a bath before leaving the house and the way I felt I'd just get as wet again in two minutes flat, so I put the T-shirt on, went into the bedroom, and climbed under the covers to wait for Penny.
It was only a couple of minutes before she came in. She was still fully dressed but as she came through the door in one flowing movement she unzipped the trousers, tugged the waistband down, climbed out of them, and draped them neatly over the back of the chair.
"I always sleep in the nude," she said. "Does that bother you?"
"No," I answered, semi-truthfully. Partly it did, partly it excited me like hell.
"Do you want the light out?"
"No," I answered again, more truthfully this time. Excitement was definitely starting to win out over embarrassment and I wanted to see what I was getting into. So to speak. "No. I want to watch you."
Well, that was the last bridge and no doubt about it. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched.
Over Penny's head and on to the chair, in another practiced movement, went the sweater, and there she was before me, a lovely curvaceous black-haired woman, in nothing but a black lacy bra and briefs. I thought lumps in your throat were just something in stories, but I swear there was one in mine as I looked at her.
"Wow, you're gorgeous," I said.
"Do you think so?" she answered, and pirouetted.
"Oh yes, from head to toe." And she was. And she knew it. Glossy thick black hair, liquid brown eyes, a slightly aquiline nose, lips just made for kissing, firm chin, long neck, her breasts plump and promising inside her bra, a sweet belly with a long north-south navel, and a narrow waist flowing out into hips which curved perfectly into those long thighs of hers.
Her eyes didn't leave mine for an instant as she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra, which she let fall to the ground, and then in the twinkling of an eye she was out of her pants too and was standing before me without a stitch on her, luxuriating in the knowledge of her own beauty and the effect she must have known it was having on me, savouring the moment as I gaped with my mouth open and my breath catching at her luscious breasts glowing slightly where the light fell on them, at the shadows the light cast on her big brown nipples, at the perfection of her ass, at the neat triangle of hair between her legs.
"Still want to wear that T-shirt?" she asked softly.
I shook my head and climbed out of bed. I stood before her and put my arms up in the air. She bent forward, took it by the hem, and lifted it over my head to reveal my bare torso. I'm not exactly what you'd call generously endowed in the breast department, certainly nothing like she was, but I do have these very prominent nipples, which from what I'd seen I knew stuck out much more than the average. Anyway, Penny certainly seemed to like what she saw if her sharp intake of breath was anything to go by.
"Oh Jane," she whispered. "Lovely Jane. You're trembling, sweetie."
"Yes, I know. Sorry, I can't help it."
"Does it show that much?"
"Sort of, yes, but don't let it worry you. There's a first time for everybody. And it is very exciting, isn't it? For you, I mean?"
I couldn't speak. I just nodded.
"It is for me as well. I've thought about this moment a lot, you and me together, and you know I wouldn't hurt you for the world, so just take it easy and remember you can always call time out and I'll understand. OK?"
"Now, let's get these off," she said, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of my panties, rolled them down over my hips and down my thighs and calves to my ankles. I stepped out of them and there we were, me and Penny who had almost been my old French teacher, Penny who had done what we were about to do with a woman who had more than once put me on detention, face to face and as naked as the day we were born. And we hadn't even touched each other yet...
It can't really have been much more than about half a minute, but it seemed like ages that we just stood there, so close that we could easily have reached out and touched each other, just looking, drinking each other in. There was just the bedside light on, so everything was in a kind of half-light. I could feel her eyes devouring my breasts, my stomach, my legs, the mat of hair at my groin, just as mine were devouring hers, and then our eyes sort of locked on to each other like radar and we just stepped forward into each other's arms.
Her hands were soft and warm as they touched my shoulders and then slid around to meet behind my back. I felt the scent of her, warm and womanly, and then the feeling of her body against mine, the curves of her breasts as they met my own, the roundness and warmth of her belly, the smoothness of her flesh, the gentle abrasiveness of her bush as it rubbed against my thigh.
As she drew me to her I put my hands around her waist and moved them down to cup her buttocks. Just the way they felt made me gasp. So sweetly rounded, so soft and yet so firm, and the way the muscles clenched as my palms settled lightly on them and my greedy fingers stretched to grasp handfuls of her flesh made me shudder with sheer lust and delight.
Her eyes closed as she bent her face to mine. I could smell the toothpaste on her breath and then her lips were against my own, gently nuzzling me and making little nibbling noises as she snatched tiny teasing kisses, provoking me with her tongue and open mouth and then drawing away as I tried to get to grips with her. After a moment or two of this, I moved my hands slowly, very slowly, never abandoning contact with her lovely skin, up from her ass, up her back, and clasped them in her hair, behind her neck, to hold her head still as I clamped my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue between her teeth, pressing my lips against hers so hard it almost hurt, breathing heavily through my nose and grinding my body against hers as our mouths locked together in a long kiss that went on and on for long minutes, growing in intensity the longer it went on. When I finally came up for air my head was literally spinning.
"Oh, baby," Penny groaned, and kissed me again. As our tongues met once more she brought up her right hand to caress my left breast, her fingers spreadeagled over it and her palm rubbing my nipple, which by now was sticking out in a way I was sure it never had before. I felt the sheer pleasure and excitement of it welling up inside me and for a moment felt unsteady on my feet. Sensing it, Penny let her weight go with mine so that we subsided on to the bed together, legs tangled up as we lay there side by side, our bodies pressed together as tenderly we explored each other's mouths, one of her hands around my back, the other working its magic on my bosom.
Breaking the kiss, she smiled softly at me. "I want to kiss you all over," she said softly, and bent her head to the engorged nipple she had been playing with. She took it between her finger and thumb and bowed her head to engulf it in her mouth, circling its stiffness with her tongue, brushing it with her lips, blowing cold air on it to make it harder still, and then taking it between her teeth and stopping just a millimeter short of the point where her bites would have become painful. My fingers gripped her hair, tighter, tighter, as her knowing mouth and fingers racked up my excitement inch by steady inch.
One of her hands stole slowly down to tickle my stomach, fingertips moving in lazy circles over my eager flesh that was all goosebumps with longing, and then, barely touching me, moved until it made the merest contact with the hair on my pubis. It felt like an electric shock. I lay there, my chest heaving with the effort to breathe something like normally, as her fingertips roamed through my crinkly hairs and sought out my vagina. Sensing her urgency, I rolled over on to my back and spread my legs wide, keeping them bent at the knee. Penny carried on pleasuring my breasts, moving the attention of her skilful mouth from one to the other, and gently slid her fingers up and down the inside of my thigh, slowly, maddeningly slowly, each time coming at the top of her stroke just that fraction closer to my pulsating vulva. I felt almost sick with excitement.
"How would you like me to eat you?" she asked. "Would you like that?"
Biting my lip, I nodded frenziedly.
"Would you like me to bury my face between your legs and lick you and suck you and stick my tongue up inside you as far as it will go and gulp you down like honey?
"Oh yes, oh yes," I moaned. "Please, Penny, do it to me! Make me come like nobody's ever made me come before!"
Even as I said these words, I could hardly believe it was me saying them. But when I opened my eyes I could see in the artfully-adjusted (or was it just a coincidence?) mirror on the dressing-table exactly what was going on. There I lay, on my back, legs akimbo, with raven-haired Penny kneeling over me, my breast in her mouth, hers crushed against my body, her arm moving up and down between my thighs, her hand invisible as it went about its loving work. Even as I watched, her head moved downwards, lips tracing the curve of my stomach, hair brushing against my skin, until I felt her nose touch my pubics and then continue its journey. She stopped moving and inhaled deeply.
"Oh my God," she gasped. "You smell fabulous."
I felt her tongue travel the length of my pussy, right from my clitoris to its very back, stiff and erect, quivering against my slippery flesh.
"Mmm," she smacked her lips. "You taste fabulous, too. Want a try?"
Without waiting for an answer she brought her mouth down on mine, smothering me in a taste I knew well, coating my lips and tongue with my own juices and then kissing them away.
"Isn't that good?" she asked playfully. "I want more of that."
"I want you, too," I said, looking into her smiling eyes.
"All in good time. You first. Let's both concentrate on that."
And so we did. Penny's expert fingers and mouth played over my sex, fluffing out and caressing my bush, teasing and tugging my clitoris, rubbing it till I felt it would burst, spreading my labia like the petals of a flower and penetrating deep inside me with her tongue, and lapping my flooding juices as my orgasm grew inside me and I ground myself against her face. Hands clamped on my clenched and thrusting buttocks, Penny lashed my tingling cunt furiously with her tongue, her nose grinding against my clitoris, struggling for breath as my greedy pelvis tried to swallow her whole, until I felt myself coming, coming, coming, the orgasm overwhelming me like an avalanche of ecstasy, washing over Penny, over me, over the whole world and then ebbing away in a series of long-drawn-out aftershocks into perfect tranquillity.
"That was quite a noise you made," she smiled from between my thighs, her face shiny with my fluids.
"That was quite an experience," I answered weakly, extricating my hands from her hair, now damp and knotted from the grip I'd had it in. "I've never had an orgasm like that in my life."
"Good," Penny said, and brought her face up to just under my chin. I could smell myself on her. For a while we just lay there like that, me tracing fingertip doodles on her back, her on my chest, swapping idle nothings and pausing now and again to plant gentle kisses on each other's lips. When I raised my head I could see her ripe body trailing away down the bed, the two hemispheres of her ass tapering into her long legs. Looking at her like that filled me with a sense of longing to do for her what she'd done for me. I eased myself out from underneath her and straddled her as she lay face down, arms crossed above her head and a smile on her lips.
"What are you doing, Jane?" she murmured.
"I'm going to give you a massage."
I began working on her neck and shoulders, flexing the flesh with the tips of my fingers, then moved down her spine, using my thumbs to stretch the skin away from her vertebrae, counting them off till I reached the small of her back, where it narrowed to her waist. I had to change position at that point. I clambered off her and knelt to one side, but Penny spread her legs and I moved between them. I found the contrast between the slenderness of her waist and the swell of her hips incredibly exciting. Her buttocks were so full, so round; they filled my hands as I kneaded them, thumbs rotating upwards from the crease where they met her thighs to caress them. Penny made little animal noises and stirred her pelvis lazily as my hands played on her. When I thought she might be getting bored with this, I took the fingernail of my index finger and lightly drew it down her cleft. Penny moaned louder this time.
"Don't you like that?" I asked.
"No, I love it," she said. "Do it some more."
So I did. With the palms and outspread fingers of both hands I spread the cheeks of her ass. The skin there was reddish-brown and totally hairless. I ran my thumbs up and down, up and down, till they brushed against her puckered anus at the end of every stroke. Her breath was coming in gasps now, giving way to a sharp intake of breath as at the end of one stroke I didn't stop and move my thumbs back up but carried on and slid my hand between her legs and up to her abdomen, raising it and flipping her over on to her back, legs spread and her sex open and ready for me.
"Your cunt is fantastic," I said, running my fingers through its dense carpet of hair. Their questing tips opened up her crinkled pinkish-purple lips like an anemone, revealing the stubby button of her clitoris and the glistening wetness inside her. I explored her at leisure, caressing and discovering her secret places, allowing her juices to drench my hand and teasing her by moving it away when she started to sigh and thrust insistently against me. Again I ran my index finger down the cleft between the halves of her lovely ass.
"Yes, yes," she gasped when it reached her anus once more.
"Here?" I asked, pressing gently.
"Oh, yes," she said, pushing down and clenching her buttocks as my finger, slick with her juices, slid into the tight hole. I plunged the thumb of the same hand into her vulva, where I could feel my index finger against it through the thin wall of separating flesh, and at the same time brought down my mouth on her clitoris. What a scent she had, what a taste, like an injection of pure lust into the very heart of me. I took a deep breath, filling my senses with the essence of her, and then fell to licking and sucking on it as I rotated my finger and thumb against one another and against Penny's eager flesh. I was dimly aware of her thrashing from side to side, of her thighs clamped like the jaws of a vice around my neck, and of her sobbing and howling my name out loud as her own climax seized her, back arched and every muscle in her body tense with the strength of her feeling. She came lavishly, her viscous juices flooding my mouth and nostrils till I was almost unable to breathe, and then, with a great shudder, relaxed and lay still, only her heaving stomach showing her excitement. I freed my hand from where it had been and lay between her legs, hands lying still on her pelvic bones and my nose in her bush, inhaling the heady smell of fresh sex.
"Come here," she said after we'd been lying like that for a while.
"I am here," I answered, kissing the inside of her thigh.
"No, here here, stupid," she said, patting the pillow beside her head.
"That was beautiful," she said. "You're quite a lover if that really was your first time."
"I just did the sort of things I like having done. It's just kind of natural, I suppose."
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" she said, and smiled, no doubt remembering what I'd said in the café the first time we'd met. We laughed.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, eyes on mine.
"Silly question. It was unbelievable, Penny."
"You're not just saying that?"
I wasn't, either. She held out her arms to me and I climbed between them. Urgency gone, we lay there, gently kissing and touching each other, drowsy now after our exertions. After a while Penny pulled the cover up over us. As I heard her breathing slow down and become more rhythmic and I felt sleep creeping up on me, I was sure that I could smell burning bridges once more.
Well, Jessica, that's the story of how I first got together with another woman. You say that you and Monika only lasted three days; well, Penny and I were actually together, off and on, for over two years. It was a lovely relationship, full of fun and laughs and, of course, sex, the way they ought to be, but we never lived together or anything like that, and we weren't exactly monogamous either. She was pretty much a full-time, though very non-scene, lesbian and during the time I knew her never showed any interest in guys, but there were other women, at least one I knew about and maybe more besides. I've always liked men as well as women, so I had a thing on the go with a bloke as well for most of that time, but neither of us was what you'd call the possessive type and so it worked out pretty well. Maybe I'll tell you more about it some other time. I hope you liked this story and I'm looking forward to the next installment from you. I wonder what it'll be?
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