A Short Story - Alcoholics Anonymous

Ordinarily, I wouldn't have found her attractive. Her face was long and narrow, grey eye shadow and natural tones of colour are painted gently to her face. Long dirty blonde hair hangs straight, and not a strand out of place. Not yet anyway. Her body though is fantastic, a physique of a professional athlete. I want to discover her wonders and traverse where no other girl has before.

We met at an Alcohol Anonymous meeting. We both drank to hide our feelings, the thoughts of being lesbian had affected us both. We had led very different lives that culminated in this, and here we are, two recently acquainted women getting to know each other.

Our faces tired from years of drink to help in hiding secrets. We both look a little older than our 32 years.

It's an open secret amongst the group that we are almost a couple. We pretend we aren't, but our whisperings over coffee at breaks give us away. Our touches linger a second too long. My fingers stroke her cheek, as she holds my hand, until we remember where we are.

We straighten ourselves and gather our composure, sitting opposite each other in the gathered circle. We both try not to smile as we catch one another's eye.

Here we are, now. We've both kissed and fondled, as we've slowly undressed. We've explored our bodies with our eyes. Our hands have touched the others skin. We've joked about our bodies to hide our insecurities, and to break the ice. Nerves are obviously clear, but we both want to go further.

She lies on the double bed of this Travelodge room. Wearing only a bra and lacy knickers, of mesh and light green shiny silk. Her smile is unsure but excited. Her long legs stretch across the bed. She's tanned and toned.

I want to climb her long legs and ravish her flat stomach. Her breasts are handfuls at most. She strokes her body and squeezes seductively. Her white painted finger nails pretty and long run up her fine torso.

I glimpse her six pack; it twitches and flexes. Her reward for giving up drink is to visit the gym. She's found a new addiction, the rush of endorphins as she exercises. The feeling of success as she adds continuous increased kilograms to her barbell, the pride as another explosive tabata completed, leaving her exhausted.

Her body is a shrine, decorated with jewels in her navel, rings on her fingers, and a small tattoo marking her sobriety. Defined muscles, firm obliques, and strong biceps make me quiver.

Her feet are small, soft and looked after. They shift in my hands sensitive to my touch. I kiss them moving to her ankles. I lick her and savour her. We both want to christen the other, each the others first woman.

I kiss the length of her leg. Tasting her skin, keeping an eye on my goal between her thighs. The lines in her legs, tic, with her musculature flaunting her sturdiness.

I straddle her legs, and help her draw down her silky underpants. My mouth relishes, her pelvis as defined as her abdominals, completely hairless and aesthetically striking.

Her vagina well-formed and symmetrical, a piercing of a silver bolt, through her clit inspires my curiosity.

I touch tentatively. I realise things are now serious. My fingers brush her lips, I gently pat and draw my thumb down her lippy slit. It's irriguous nature adds to my own clamminess as I marvel at another woman's pudenda.

I slip my middle finger into her; she releases a pent-up tension with an exuberant sigh of relief. I play, careful not to hurt, I don't want to fumble carelessly. I watch her face; it's taught with surprise and expectation. I continue to play, I want to lick her, to taste her sex. I'm nervous but curious, I battle my doubt. I sink my head and purse my lips. I kiss her clit attentively which develops to greedy salaciousness.

I decide I like her coppery flavour, the feel. It doesn't put me off, it spurs me on. One finger in her becomes two, exploratory develops into enthusiastically.

Her moans of desire are fervent, willing me on. I glance up her athletic body to see her release her breasts, which she kneads and squeezes. I raise my hand to touch and grope.

I loosen, feeling more comfortable with my actions. I'm at home, naturally delving between her legs, her paroxysmal riding of me.