A Bad Idea: The Straight Girl

I stroked her cheek, just a little too briefly, feathered her thigh a little too briefly, and grazed her neck and shoulders with my nails as I displaced her mountain of hair. Her dilated pupils lasered into me. She may have lost her centre of gravity or she may have chosen to fall into me, but she completed the fall with a kiss. She probably thinks I moved to kiss her. I'm... pretty sure, relatively sure, it was the other way around.

We were now experienced with touching each other's backs and shoulders and tummies, those weren't alien to us anymore, and so our hands began a routine of hungry exploration. There was something in the kiss, something very different... and I notice that we hadn't seen each other in several, several days, and whatever engine I had started in her had just been left running that whole time. And I mean it had been just totally left running. I could feel in her kiss that she hadn't masturbated at all. This was all pent up awakening. Ho-boy...

We became somewhat dizzy with the surprisingly nice kiss, and one or the other of us absently shoved us both off the couch we half-sat on, and of neither of our accord we were now kneeling on the floor.  

During another heated kiss, her fingers started a skilled search for fabric, and my top was coming off. As soon as her hands descended down my bare shoulders and arms I found her tunic's bottom seam and gathered it all up as she raised her arms for me. When she came together again, she immediately remembered something, that there was still fabric between us. I looked at her very carefully, and watched her face as I started to snap open the hooks across her back. She was intrigued, but sheepish as she (less skillfully) reached around for my own.

She didn't look down at me at that moment. Her eyes were just on me, as her hands felt bare skin along my back. She had bashfully tight lips, intrigued wide eyes, and flushed cheeks.  Finally, she stole glances down and up again at me, and being seen in that moment woke up another bear:  the whole situation stirred in me a fundamental need for body acceptance, and that's not hers, that's on me, I knew that, but I needed not to just be an experiment.  The momentum would be fuelled or halted there, so I took a chance, pushing her back a bit and gently straddling her lap.  

And there I was, my hands around the back of her neck, my eyes falling into hers, my freed breasts parallel with her face, my tummy very exposed to view, my yoga-pantsed legs snugly on either side of her thighs.  Her eyes were wider now.  This was off-script for her, perhaps not used to having her arms under her lover's, not used to having her legs on the inside and her lover's on the outside.  I watched her for consent; we hadn't spoken in so long, just gazed and caressed, so I watched her for her next wishes or withdrawal.  Kassandra looked up at me, thinned her lips once more and touched the sides of my torso, down and up, slid her hands around the small of my back, kissed me softly, re-introduced her tongue into my mouth, and pressed us together for another long embrace.  

As softly as was my first touch on her cheek the other day, my fingertips finally brushed, gently and with open fingers, down the lengths of both her proud little breasts, like a drum brush across a snare drum. I expected it to arouse, but with a heave, an arch, and a rather elaborate gasp-sigh, the effect on her was ecstatic. She opened her eyes once she could and said deeply into my eyes "HOLYSHITSadah..." So I brushed the balls of my fingers down along her breasts again, in vertical stripes, and she disappeared into herself again, squirming her head and her bum. As my feather touches went on and on, I found and met my lips again, kissing me hard. Kassandra heaved heavy breaths through her nose to keep our mouths together. She swooned into me as I finally grasped her chest with full palms.

The next time we needed air, we each leaned back and looked at each other and she cast eyes down and then gazed up again.  This was not a choice to look, this was visceral curiosity.  She had another "Am I doing this?" look on her face for just an instant before she so-softly slid cupping hands up my tummy to both breasts and stroked outward on each.  Being almost as sensitive myself I shuddered thunderously to the caress, opened my eyes after some vague moment in the future, and we gazed needily at each other.  She had touched my breasts and enjoyed it.  She wasn't in denial, thankfully, she did want this.  

"Kassandra?" I said, my voice far far away somewhere. "I need to check in, again.  We can leave it at this, we can keep doing just what we're doing, or I can get rid of those goddamn leggings of yours."

She smiled and shrugged, again bashfully, thought for a moment, blinked lots, and said, "Well Sadah, at this point I don't think I can really imagine just going home without further inquiry into this VERY interesting experiment we have going."  I understood why she convoluted her answer but I needed more and let my silence say so.  "So you could absolutely feel free to engage in something a little more involved if you feel up to it?"  Silence.  "YES you can take off my leggings."  As I kept my eyes on hers she barely even noticed that I had promptly begun doing just that, with every item under her waist, all at once.  The atmosphere promptly changed in scent and I resisted the urge to look down and stare hungrily at her vulva, letting her control the pace. 

It's a preciously vulnerable moment, when one's panties first come off in front of someone; quickly a distant, faint, cute little aroma of sweat and urine trace and arousal drifted outward from an unassuming little vulva with internal inner labia.

She was a shaver. A few interpretations wandered through my head as I gazed at the centre of her, about how her whole private area represented how she lived up to other people's expectations of her sexuality, and then about how she can look however she wants and all bodies are okay, and finally about how I was over-analyzing sex I was probably also nervous about in order to distance myself. Sadah, get a grip. You've just taken off a woman's panties and it's time to be present with her.

And, when I brought my attention back, I noticed how she felt: a little exposed, obviously. A little tense. "Here," I said, "Why don't you lie on your tummy, you can relax with me for a moment." Kassan looked both intrigued and bashful about the idea, but her blushing smile showed she was good with the plan. She scooched around and exposed her bum and back to me. Her bum had some meat to it, and was strong.

Though cripplingly bashful about what she wanted, at this moment she was content in her body: the attractive woman with the proud back and the great legs and the huge curls of hair and the hourglass hips was tummy-down on the couch, completely unadorned, for the moment bashfully happy her bum was available, her everything.

It was important that I treated this as a gift, because it was: her consent was a gift to me.

So when I began touching her again, I remembered two important facts about her: she loves being touched, more than anyone I had ever met, and she's bashful about her budding interest in a woman's touch. The answer was being gradual.

So I slid my open hands down her back like a brush across a snare drum, and she breathed in in happy surprise. I did it again, slowly, lightly. I did it again, going further down, along the sides of her waist rather than touching her ass quite yet. This didn't make the touch more subtle, she gasped and sighed. OKAY! She likes it there. My curled fingers grazed up and down the sides of her waist, and she gave the throw-pillow she had found lovely little whimpers. I opened my hands again and grazed my whole hands downward from beneath her pits to her upper thighs. I grazed my hands from her calves up to the curve of her bum. And repeated that stroke several times, from thigh to back by way of bumcheeks.

Kassandra sat up again, back turned but looking over her shoulder. She appeared not to know why. She had started listening to her body, and she looked herself over, wondering why she had led herself upright, what she had in mind. So I curled half around her and my hand explored her breast and her thighs, back and forth. Kassan had found what she was looking for.

She tightened her lip and her brow and wordlessly asked me a very adamant question about just what I was trying to do to her. She was flushed and not unhappy, just in a kind of state where you're so alert you don't quite know what to do with yourself. She was... shuffling, in her hands and her bum.

I smiled and slid my fingernails with barely a touch along her inner, inner, inner thighs. Her eyes closed tightly and I watched her drift around and blush for a moment. "Is this touch okay?" I softly enquired.

"It's... it's um... um..." Just in case I stopped. "Pleasedon'tstop." I stopped stopping.

Kassan's body shifted slowly towards every touch, which meant her core moved closer to me and her head away, soon kneeling and leaning back, presenting her breasts and pelvis to my touch, in a light fever. I was afraid to shift anything about the moment, like she might change her mind and withdraw at any time. I kept touching her, softly, waist, thighs, neck. Kassan's body admitted it couldn't kneel back any further and adjusted her legs, which meant opening them. I asked her thighs if they wanted my touch back and they did. Quite far up her thighs.

I asked my body what it wanted and it eagerly answered it wanted to kiss her all over her body, wet little kisses that tell me how each part of her tastes. But I made sure I didn't rush: I just let the backs of my hands touch her inner thighs, back and forth, sending her thrashing her face back and forth, gasping, before she continued,

"Okay, I don't even know what you're doing..."

"I like how strong your thighs are. I like how soft they are too."

I glanced up and watched her. Her eyes were closed and her head and shoulders were now doing this slow bellydance-style swivel, open-mouthed, tousling her hair. For the first time, she actually wasn't performing, her body just wanted to move like that, to feel the waves of what I was doing. And I was doing almost nothing. This was going to be... a lot.

I embraced the "a lot" and kissed three places I found to be most shocking to her: where shoulder meets arm, at the side of her waist, and high up her inner thigh.

"Sadah?  What exactly do you suppose is about to happen?  Asking for a friend..."

"Well Kassan?  I imagine I'm nearing the end of my ability to take things slowly, so if you would like to throw prompts out for exactly what part of my body should cause your first orgasm, I would like to get going on that RIGHT about now..."

Kassandra, too bashful to retain her proud demeanour, shrugged quite sheepishly. "Um that's quite a question... um can we see?" I, now rising up, said yes into her lover's neck as she started kissing it.

She looked at me again, awakened. Could I keep doing this? She sat up, looking determined, and then knelt beside me. And then kissed once more.

But though I promised myself I'd bring it up the next time I saw her reluctance, she came to me in an ambush of a kiss and I gave in to it gladly. Soon she was on top of me. She broke the kiss to say, with her bashful laugh, "I'm going to try this..." and, with her next kiss, was holding both of my breasts. They were somewhat larger than the ones she was likely used to pleasing, and so she took a moment to notice I liked little squeezes more than her skin-grazes. Between kisses she watched my pleasure, and she seemed to enjoy it. She found out how to touch my breasts, and she used what she learned during each new kiss. Soon we were pulling each other's torsos into each other.

After some feverish time touching and watching each other's reactions, Kassan started pulling my leggings down. This was a familiar act for her: making out with someone while yanking clothes off. After a few hungry little kisses, there we were, kneeling, bums raised, now-naked bodies pressed against each other. I opened my eyes as we kissed now, I watched her truly notice that her pelvis was pressed against a naked vulva, and her decision to continue.

Kassandra's body had automatically inched up, her legs arching around me, and her hips searching for something to grind against. Mine did too. Our bodies communicated without our help. Changing our angle on each other, we readjusted our hips and our groins interlocked. Now Kassan's face erupted into giggles, and she mused, still flushed but snide, "I'm sorry, I just realized we're scissoring and I'm trying not to feel ridiculous about that!"

She looked amused and a little embarrassed. I gave her a sardonic "Uh-huh" and, leaning back a little, touched our labia together in an initial little slippery circle. Kassandra went automatic, first heaving inward, then tensing and groaning in a delighted squeal. I slipped my outer labia along hers again. We were both rather slippery.

Kassan blinked and blinked. One last time, I slid our vulvas up around and down each other. In another descending moment, Kassan grasped my bum with her calves, and began a rhythm of humps very different than one would do during penis-penetration but that her body somehow knew exactly how to do. She didn't think this was ridiculous anymore.

For a moment we breathed animalistically as we ground into each other, feeling the soaked folds of our labia and clumsily, passionately pushing down on each other's clits. Instead of carrying on kissing we just watched each other, her eyes in some instants shocked, and some instants so determined she looked angry. I'm sure I was making noises too, but I honestly have no idea what they may have been, because all I can remember is the feeling of Kassandra's slick vulva dancing circles around and against my clit and the angry loving stare she was shooting my way as our bodies danced for each other.

It remained that way for a little time, so far the only way she knew how to officially have sex with me, and her hips and breasts started pulsing and flexing, with little calls out, and in one big moment she shuddered and withdrew a little. Kassan gathered her breath and said, "Sorry, it was just a little to intense for a moment. Um... holy."

I came close and sort of caught her. "You bet. Slower, stop...?"

"Um 'slower' as in 'more gradually', not slower as in 'less', please," she said, with her sardonic giggle. I kissed her collar a little, kissed her mouth a little, slid the back of my tongue along her left nipple a little (jeez this girl and her breasts, she reacts like the recoil of a cannon) and kissed her tummy. The moment didn't become awkward as I went south, maybe in part because her entire body reacted to first-kisses the same way her mouth did. There was this continuity of pleasure that kept us present in the moment.

I noticed a reluctance to open up further as my head lingered between her thighs and I knew she'd only be present for a less vulnerable touch. This I expected. Opening yourself to another's mouth is the most vulnerable and intimate act there is. I hadn't even decided to do that, but she must have realized the possibilities and started to wonder.

"Should I touch you here?" She blinked a little. She wasn't used to being asked. Nice, guys, real nice.

"Mhm?" she nodded.

She let me explore the outer labia with my fingertips, and I listened to her breathing. She was still wet from our touch. Not knowing her particular shape, I slipped downwards until I found her vagina and curled around the corner. She gave three teeny little inhales as my middle finger found its way around in her. There was a little corner, beyond which was a big wall. I arched back and forth a little, to feel all the corners of Kassandra. Her body used strategically timed gasps to try to communicate to me what I already knew. I smirked and gave The Wall a sturdy graze. Her body exhaled everything at once. Yes, you're welcome, love. And you're welcome too for cutting my fingernails these past few days, not that you'd ever notice or know what that means...

I gently withdrew my other hand and slowly went back in with an additional finger, leaving my other hand to softly graze her nearest breast. Kassan, while apparently happy and intrigued, refrained from opening her eyes, instead arching her neck back and opening her mouth, in a slowslowmotion nod thrash. She was both fully present and fully absent, completely inside her body. I knew what to do from here.

Come here, my fingers said. My two fingers inside her crooked up and down in a come-here hand motion, sliding up and down the general vicinity of her G-spot, exploring where inside this particular vagina it may be and what sort of touch it preferred. Come here, come here, come here; and the slowslowmotion nod became a slowslowmotion thrash, back and forth, breath intaking and exhaling deep soft sounds. As I continued, comehere, comehere, comehere, comhere, comehere, comeHERE, comeHERE, COMEHERE, COMEHERE, she braced her hands behind her, no longer bashful about her torso, instead angling in corresponding motions to my hand.

Her eyes stayed closed. The whole time. She was deeply interested in what was happening in her body, but stayed inside that body. I took it as a compliment but it did start to feel a little solitary, maybe even a hint she wasn't sure about connecting her pleasure with who was giving it. But I liked watching her dance for me. I knew she could smell my sweat, I knew she could still taste my kiss like I could taste hers.

Kassandra's enjoyment plateaued for a moment, and so I experimentally interchanged each finger's motion, one finger extended while the other crooked, back and forth, one deep inside and one teasing the ceiling of her vagina, back and forth. Her inner pulses and re-anglings and deep sounds crescendoed again, her whole head slowly rotating on her neck.

Kassan said in a distant whimper

"I -

Don't -

Know what -

You're doing -

But whatever -

It is oh my god"

"Put your hands around my neck." She opened her eyes, licked her lips, and complied with me. Her hands gently grasped the back of my neck, mostly under my hair but too hasty to do it perfectly, and as I answered every request her repositioning and thrusting body made of me she leaned far back, my whole upper body holding her up as we cooperatively brought her body down the garden path to an orgasm. Her eyes were shut again, and I grazed my other hand along her tummy and her face to keep her with me.

Kassandra flew her hands behind her again as she changed her hip's thrusts to something slower but stronger, humping my hand, gasping low and rapid. And, all at once, she let herself fall to the floor, where she stayed for the final seconds. Her pelvis shivered at me for a long moment until her thighs suddenly squeezed my arm tight, twice, three times. Her gasps became cute little whispers, a moment of utter silence, and then a huge release of breath as she squirmed on the floor under me. Her orgasmic dance was just perfect.

"Hi there," I finally said, "would you like some more of the same when you're ready, or are you brewing up other ideas?"

"Um, well you don't have to carry on if you don't want to, I've been there and back again!"

"Well lucky for you, Kassan, you having an orgasm is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I want to see it again."

She gave me a sort of daunted look. Good daunted. Though eventually she blinked and said, "Actually I think I may need to breathe for a while?" I smiled and lay beside her. I held her hand. Eventually she curled up into me a little, which reminded us both of our situation: she was completely unclothed and I was topless. She probably noticed, once again, for the first time in a few minutes, that she had just been finger-fucked by someone with D-cup breasts.