A Modern Harem Pt. 04

Joyce was moodily sipping coffee in the kitchen when Hilary tripped downstairs and rushed into the room like a little hurricane. She poured herself a big mug and sat down at the kitchen table next to her mother.

"So, how was it?" Joyce asked.

"Great! Fabulous!" Hilary exclaimed. "Couldn't be better! That guy really knows how to make a girl happy."

"Does that mean that you, um, had more than one climax?"

"You bet I did! I don't even know how many I had--maybe half a dozen!"

"Half a dozen? You're kidding me."

"Nope. Of course, Gerald had his share too."

"Oh, yes? How many?"

"Three. I could have done at least one more, but he was too tired."

"I bet he was. But wasn't there a certain amount of . . . pain?"

"Well, of course. But I knew there would be. That back way is pretty tough. How many times do you I think I need to do it before I get used to it?"

Joyce's blood drained from her face. "You--you're telling me he went into your bottom?"

"Sure!"

"He shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's . . . a bit advanced for someone like you."

"Oh, nonsense. I managed."

"I'm sure you did, but even so--"

"Anyway"--that chuckle again--"I made him."

"You made him? How on earth did you do that?"

"Well, let's just say I persuaded him. It didn't take much persuasion, come to think of it."

"I don't doubt it," Joyce said, her temperature rising. "What else did you do?"

"Oh, we ended up with sixty-nine."

"I see. He, um, came in your mouth?"

"Yeah. I really didn't like the taste."

"No, I don't either."

"But I felt I had to swallow. It might hurt his feelings if I spit it out."

"It seems to be a big deal when a man comes into a woman's mouth. It's like a test of her devotion."

"Something like that. But I didn't mind really."

At that point Gerald stumbled into the kitchen, looking quite a bit the worse for wear.

Hilary leaped up from her chair and gave Gerald a sloppy kiss on the mouth. And when she also gave his cock an affectionate squeeze, he cried, "Ow!"

"Oops!" she said with a grin. "You must be sore down there."

"You must be too," he said sourly. "But I don't grab your private parts."

"Yeah, well, sorry." Spinning away toward the oven, she said, "I wanna whip up a big breakfast for everyone. Why don't you guys go and talk somewhere?"

That, in fact, was exactly what Joyce had in mind. Leading Gerald forcefully out into the living room, she sat him down on the sofa and said, "What's the idea of going into her butt?"

Gerald was taken aback at his lover's hostility. "Gee, Joyce, that was her idea!"

"So it seems."

"That girl is pretty determined to get what she wants."

"I'm aware of that, but I still think you ought to have exercised some restraint."

"I guess I couldn't help it," he said with a sheepish grin. "She's an awfully cute little item."

"Oh," Joyce said, her anger rising again, "so Hilary's a cute little item now?"

"Joyce, please--you promised you wouldn't get mad at me for--for--"

"For deflowering my daughter? I don't recall making such a promise." Then, as if deflated, she said, "Oh, it's all right. But I think she expects you to do her several more times before she gets to college, just so she's thoroughly ready to spread her legs for any appealing boy she might meet."

"I suppose I could do that."

"Yes, I'm sure you could."

"But I don't think Hilary's the sort of girl who'll just let herself be taken by any Tom, Dick, or Harry."

"I hope not. We'll have to see what happens."

In the three weeks that remained before Hilary went off to college, Gerald did her every two or three days. By the end of that period, she seemed entirely comfortable with copulation (both front and back)--but, as Gerald had said, she knew she would have to be careful whom she allowed into her bed. There were lots of scumbags out there just looking to "score"!

But what actually happened in the first few weeks of college took everyone by surprise, including herself.

*

The college Hilary was attending--only a couple of miles from her house--insisted that all freshmen have roommates. The thinking was that these naïve, innocent young people might get freaked out if they were to live alone, being away from their parents and friends for the first time in their lives. Hilary found that she was teamed up with a girl named Bridget. She was clearly of Irish origin, as she had flaming red hair and a rosy complexion that brought to mind the green meadows and rolling hills of Ireland. She was a big girl, about five foot eight, and pleasingly plump without being in any way fat. She'd turned eighteen only a few weeks before Hilary.

The funny thing was that both girls secretly envied the other--Hilary wished she was as tall and filled-out (especially in the breast department, which were one of Bridget's most prominent features) as her roommate, and Bridget yearned to be small and slender like Hilary. In the first few weeks of their occupancy of the tiny, austere little room in an all-girls dorm, they seemed to get along pretty well.

But then an unexpected cold snap made things difficult.

The beds in the room, aside from being absurdly narrow, came with blankets that were not much more than what you'd find in a prison. Maybe the college administration figured that the students would have brought quilts from home for the winter; but this was September, and no one expected the temperatures to plummet like this--and the heat in the room wasn't very robust in the first place.

So the two girls lay there shivering, each in her own bed on opposite sides of the room. Hilary's teeth were actually chattering. She didn't have the flesh to protect against such icy conditions, although Bridget wasn't in much better shape.

"Man," Hilary cried out in the dark, "I'm freezing my butt off!"

"And pretty much everything else," Bridget added.

"I'll never be able to sleep like this--I'll be an icicle by morning. Why don't they pump some heat into this godforsaken building?"

"I guess they didn't think they'd need it this early in the season."

"Well, this is impossible. What the hell are we going to do?"

Bridget wasn't certain Hilary's question was meant to be answered, or was just rhetorical. There was a long pause before she said, "There's one thing we can do."

"What's that?" Hilary said eagerly. "I'll do anything to keep warm."

"The best way to keep warm in a situation like this," Bridget said quietly and with a little tremor in her voice, "is to bundle up together."

Hilary seemed to have an epiphany. She slapped her forehead and cried, "Of course! Body heat! Why didn't I think of that? And we can use both blankets on the same bed."

And with that, she leaped up from her bed, pulled the blanket off, and tramped over to where Bridget was shivering. Dumping the blanket on top of the bed, she snuggled up to the bigger girl as if she were a huge hot-water bottle.

The bed was so small that they had to hold each other in a close embrace, just so that one of them wouldn't tumble out onto the floor. But that was the whole idea: you have to be close together if you're going to get the benefit of the other person's body heat.

"Oh, yeah!" Hilary gurgled. "This is a lot better! I can actually feel my fingers and toes."

Because of their disparity in height, Hilary had nestled her head between Bridget's ample breasts, sensing the warmth radiating out from them. Then she wrapped her arms around the girl's waist, while Bridget enclosed Hilary in an embrace of her own.

"Is this nice?" Bridget said, her voice still trembling.

"You bet!" Hilary enthused.

"Not much space to move around."

"Who wants to move? I'm going to stick to you like glue, girl."

Hilary tried to get to sleep, but was soon distracted by something Bridget was doing. She was showering little kisses on the top of Hilary's head.

Hilary lifted her head--reluctantly--from Bridget's breasts (which she could feel clearly outlined underneath the thick flannel nightgown she was wearing) and looked up at her roommate. "That feels kinda nice," she said softly, "but don't you want to go to sleep?"

"I--I don't know that I can sleep," Bridget whispered.

Hilary considered that for a moment, still staring up at the larger girl. They seemed frozen in time, although otherwise they were warming up--in several senses of the term. So it didn't entirely surprise her when Bridget bent down and placed her lips ever so tenderly on Hilary's in a kiss that lasted several seconds.

"Mmm," Hilary said reflectively. "That tastes good. And you smell good too."

Bridget smiled, but her eyes seemed to be getting watery. They kissed again, and this time Bridget put her hands on either side of her new friend's face.

This kiss lasted even longer than the first one.

"Oooh!" Hilary said after it was over. "You're making me all tingly."

The look Bridget gave Hilary was so full of yearning that she didn't need to speak to get her point across.

"You're a lesbian, aren't you?" Hilary said, gently and without any sort of moral judgment.

"Yes," Bridget said almost ruefully. "You're not, I suppose?"

"No, but I like what we're doing. It's--nice."

And with that, Hilary doffed her own nightgown, revealing her nudity to her roommate. Bridget gasped at the sight, saying, "Gosh, you're pretty!"

Hilary helped Bridget off with her nightgown, saying, "You're pretty scrumptious yourself."

They began scouring each other all over--face, breasts, back, bottom, thighs--as they marveled at how two females could be so different in shape and figure while still being so tempting, each in her own way. Hilary buried her face in Bridget's bare breasts, relishing their firmness and warmth, while Bridget clung to the smaller girl as if she were a beloved pet. All of a sudden neither of them felt chilly anymore.

Then each of them slipped a hand between the other's legs, finding plenty of moisture there. They rubbed and stroked each other diligently: there's nothing like having the same body parts to know how to stimulate someone, even though in all fairness every woman responds differently to such stimulus. But it wasn't long before both of them were getting all hot and bothered, smearing sloppy kisses over the other's face and neck and shoulders while continuing to fondle the other's labia and clitoris, sometimes sticking two or three fingers into a wet vagina.

Their orgasms were nearly simultaneous: maybe it was Hilary's sharp cry that triggered Bridget's paroxysm. They both groaned and gasped and whimpered and squealed in delight as their climaxes flooded over them, clinging to each other as if an earthquake was going on all around them.

After a little rest, both Hilary and Bridget knew that there was more to come (and more coming). In other words, they would engage in a serious bout of sixty-nine.

Hilary sensed that this would be the high point of this session, and any future ones they might have. Imagine licking a girl's pussy! Why should men have all the fun? She almost dove into Bridget's sex as she flipped over and splayed herself on top of her roommate. At first she just took in the heady aroma; then she buried her face in the moist area, lapping up the juices that were trickling out of her vagina and also giving a lot of attention to her thick labia and protuberant clitoris--both these things seemed much larger than her own. But Bridget didn't find any deficiency in Hilary's apparatus, and she licked and sucked like there was no tomorrow. The one problem with sixty-nine, as both of the girls confessed later, is that it's a bit distracting to receive pleasure while also providing it. But the upside is that orgasms can just keep on flowing, over and over again, so that it became hard to figure out if there were really separate climaxes or maybe just one long one punctuated by several peaks.

After almost an hour of this, the girls admitted to being exhausted. There really is such a thing as too much ecstasy! So they stopped, and Hilary switched around so that she was on top of Bridget, facing her and plastering her lips with kisses--and absorbing the taste of her own pussy.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, all warm and toasty and comfortable.

This first episode led to several others--not every night, certainly, but roughly every two or three nights. And it was during a break in one of these sessions that Bridget asked a provocative question.

"So," she began hesitantly, "you've done it?"

"Done what?" Hilary said dreamily, since she'd already had several orgasms and wasn't thinking too clearly.

"You know," Bridget said impatiently--"done it with a man."

"Oh, you mean had a cock in me? Sure. But I only started a few weeks ago."

"Who was it with? Some guy you knew in high school?"

"Well, um, no."

"Then who?"

Hilary looked up at her new friend. "You gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay?"

"Of course I won't tell anyone."

"Okay, well . . . it's my mom's boyfriend."

"Your mom's boyfriend!" Bridget exploded. "Holy cow! You mean to say"--her voice dropped in horror--"he forced you?" She knew all about what stepfathers and other such sleazeballs were capable of when living with a nubile daughter.

"What?" Hilary cried. "No, of course not! The guy's a sweetheart. In fact"--she let out her patented chuckle--"you might say I forced him."

"You forced him? How's that possible?"

"Well, maybe I didn't force him. Let's just say I told him, 'I want you to deflower me,' and he did."

"But--but why?"

"Because I didn't want to be a virgin anymore."

"And your mom was okay with that?"

"I'm not sure she was actually okay with it, but she went along with it. She has trouble denying me anything."

Bridget knew about the death of Hilary's dad, and suspected that her mom clung to her tenaciously as the only tangible thing she had left from that relationship. "And how was it?"

"With Gerald, you mean? Oh, it was great."

"It must have hurt."

"Sure, but I knew it would. After the first time, it was just heaven."

Bridget lapsed into silence while continuing to stroke Hilary absently. "So . . . what does it feel like? Having a cock in you?"

"Oh, Bridget, there's no way to describe it. It's like no other feeling in the world." There was something in the tone of her voice that said, Lesbians just can't understand.

More silence. Then Bridget blurted out, "Do you think he could do it to me?"

Hilary almost choked. "What on earth are you talking about? You're a lesbian. Why on earth would you want to do something like that?"

"I'm just curious," Bridget said with a shake of her shoulders. "You said it feels nice."

"It does feel nice. Except for the first time. Even that isn't so bad if you have the right guy do you."

"And Gerald's the right guy?"

"Sure he is. But Bridget, what are we talking about this for? Didn't you tell me once that you want to remain 'intact' for the rest of your life?" Hilary knew that Bridget still had her hymen--she'd felt it often enough when sticking her fingers into the girl's pussy.

"I--I'm beginning to change my mind." Then, with sudden eagerness: "Can't you ask him?"

"Gee, I don't know . . ."

"Oh, please, Hilary! Who else could I get to do it?"

"Bridget, you could ask any guy on campus--"

"I don't want just any old guy! I want a nice guy. You said it's super-important to have a nice 'first time.'"

"That's for straight girls."

"Well, I think it's even more important for lesbians."

Hilary sighed heavily. "I think you're crazy, but I can ask."

"Maybe he'll say no," Bridget said lugubriously.

"I doubt it," she said with a chuckle. "He's a guy, after all. If anyone says no, it'll be my mom."

"Oh, yeah, I never thought of that."

"She might be a bit peeved."

"But I think it's a lot less serious for him to do me than to do you. I mean, you go back home almost every weekend, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And--he does you?"

"You bet he does."

"And your mom doesn't make a fuss?"

"I told you: she's probably not all that keen on it, but she's just resigned to the inevitable."

"Just ask him--and her, okay?"

"Okay, okay. I'll be seeing them this weekend, so I'll see what I can do."

When Hilary, dropping by at the house on Friday night, casually dropped the bombshell, Joyce at first wasn't sure she'd heard her daughter correctly.

"What did you say?" she exclaimed. "This girl wants Gerald to--"

"Yup. Seems to have her heart set on it."

"But didn't you say she was a lesbian?"

"She is. But I guess she's gotten curious after I told her how wonderful Gerald was."

Now Joyce was spluttering. "You--you told her Gerald . . . sleeps with you?"

"Of course. She asked."

"Oh, Hilary, how could you? She must think this house is a den of iniquity."

"She was pretty cool about it, after I explained the situation."

"But this Bridget really is a lesbian?"

"Oh, yeah! There's no doubt about that."

Something in the tone of that remark made Joyce stare intently at her daughter. "You're not going to tell me that you--you . . ."

"That I cuddle up with her? Sure I do."

Joyce gasped. "Are you kidding me? You have sex with her?"

"If giving each other lots of orgasms is having sex, then yeah, I have sex with her."

"Hilary, darling! I didn't know you . . . had such tendencies."

"I didn't either. But it's been fun. Have you done it--with a girl, I mean?"

"No, of course not!"

"Mom, it's no big deal. It's really a ball."

All during this conversation, Gerald was looking from the older woman to the younger one like a tennis fan intently watching a long rally back and forth across the net.

"I think," he said at last, in a subdued voice, "we're getting off the subject."

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that!" Hilary said with a weird sort of triumph. "Leave it to a man to get right to the point. You wanna burst Bridget's hymen."

"Hilary, honestly!" Joyce cried.

"Well, that's what she wants."

"She still has her hymen?"

"Of course. She's a lesbian. And don't ask me if she's stuck anything up herself: she obviously hasn't. She once told me that true lesbians don't use a dildo or anything else that would remind them of the hated male of the species."

"But now she's changed her tune."

"So it seems. Well, guy"--looking at Gerald--"what do you say? You willing to give her the full treatment?"

Gerald blushed crimson. "Um, well, I think that's Joyce's decision."

"Why is it always my decision?" Joyce whined. "I'm not the boss of anyone."

"I just wanted to make sure," Gerald said calmly, "that you won't be hurt or offended."

"Look, if you can poke my daughter and not offend me, then you can surely poke this girl."

"I have a feeling you are offended that I poke your daughter."

"No, I'm not--not really. You guys have a good relationship, so it's fine. But I just wonder if this girl really knows what she's getting into."

"Or what's getting into her!" Hilary chortled.

"Please stop with the humor, dear. I just don't know whether it's the right thing to do."

"Oh, what's the harm? A little blood, a little pain, and it's over. And then she can say she's done it. Although she probably won't tell anyone: she'd probably be drummed out of the lesbian corps if anyone found out."

"I hope she doesn't tell anyone--for your sake, Gerald," Joyce said, glaring at her lover. "Talk about getting a reputation!"

"I'm sure it can all be done quietly and tastefully," he said.

"If you say so," Hilary said. "I'll tell her the good news when I see her on Monday."

But when Hilary did tell Bridget, the girl seemed to go white, then blushed like a rose. "He--he'll do it?"

"Yeah. No problem." Seeing Bridget's hesitancy, she went on: "You better be sure about this. I mean, it can't be undone once it's done."