Big City Girl Ch. 02

I liked her surprise; maybe I was a BCG, just different from her. Feeling a little superior, I replied:

"Yeah, of course, I like to do it, and he sure does."

"And want it all in your mouth, his first time?"

I was enjoying her questioning surprise and teased her:

"Especially, why I want to do it first."

"If you like it - that much?" she replied with a dubious expression.

I took pity with her attitude and said:

"I'd better, better than I like your pussy, as much as I do, or else there is something wrong with me."

"Never thought of that," she replied with frown, then adding:

"Maybe I can too, if you think like that."

I nodded and suggested:

"Just get down between his legs, then you can lick him where he's most sensitive. He'll love it."

"And then . . . all that in my mouth?" she murmured, still sounding dubious.

"Won't taste any different, just more, as much as he can, and as good for him as he could want, why I like to do it and know that it's been so good for him."

Hester looked at me, wrinkling her nose, and murmured:

"Maybe I have been enjoying girls too much."

"Not too much, thank you," I replied, adding: "But we do taste better, at least, I know that you do."

"Hm-hmm! You do too, and not just I taste better," Hester replied with a wry expression.

I snickered and said: "Don't tell him that, that you know that."

We laughed. Then she remarked:

"He knows that I do, well, taste good, maybe not that I taste better that he does."

"Or a college classmate," I suggested with a smirk.

"Oh, God, I hope not!"

I did too, surprised at my spontaneous remark, then remembering that "my" Bob had a flatmate. We snickered and left the flat to meet them.

Our Saturday night and Sunday morning were everything we hoped for. Bob's flatmate had promised that he wasn't going to return until morning, so we spent the night in his bed. His flatmate was surprised to find me still there, luckily clothed. We had shared a shower that got out of hand. Not that hands were involved, except for his then holding my ass, when my legs were up around his waist.

When I told Hester that, she grinned and said that she had taken my advice, and that Jim had been surprised, but very much delighted, and that she had really enjoyed sucking and licking his cock that way, even if she didn't like the taste, but she didn't mind it now. I nodded with smile, silently feeling a little superior again, but also admitting to myself that I didn't really like how it tasted, just that it was so good to feel it shoot in my mouth and know that I had given him such a good orgasm.

That evening at bed time, we caught each other glancing at the sofa. We smirked, then chuckled. She remarked:

"Since we know we like men just as much, ..."

"I don't have to say 'pretty please'?" I asked facetiously.

She nodded with a grin and hum. This time on the sofabed, I really got to see her pussy in the light from the table lamp and thought it was lovely, just wondering how it could look different from mine or other girls'. Then I was discovering again how good a pussy tasted, and she was too. When I finally turned around, and we had embraced and kissed, she murmured:

"We still taste better."

"Um-hmm, we do," I agreed, then adding: "but it's nice to appreciate the difference."

"And how nice it is to suck a cock," she enjoined, and we kissed again in agreement.

From then on, Sunday night together became a regular way to finish the weekend, always after mentioning something about our liking men. I had stopped worrying about enjoying sex with another girl more often than with a man. If it was good, why not, I rationalized very easily, and it was a whole lot better than just masturbating, both ways: how she aroused me, and that I so much enjoyed licking and tasting her pussy.

Sundays, before or after we had, we usually talked about what we done with them. We each had woken up feeling a cock between our thighs and then helped it find our pussies and enjoyed a long, lazy Sunday morning fuck. Bob's flatmate then always called up from the doorman's phone to warn us, since he and I could be in either flat, but usually in Hester's and mine, enjoying ourselves on the larger sofabed. He had been delighted the first time I suggested that we could use it. Hester also called before she came up.

It was slightly embarrassing for Bob and me the first time that was necessary - in our flat. I answered the phone, having to ask her to wait a couple of minutes until we were dressed. Luckily, we had just been lying in bed after our morning sex. She tactfully knocked, waiting for a reply, before she unlocked the door, as did Bob's roommate the couple of times we spent the night in their flat.

After the first time we used the sofabed, the next time I had it already opened up, left it open after I changed the sheet. Did we then fuck more that night? For sure, we started earlier, skipping over socially polite talk, having a drink or coffee. Maybe we did fuck more, since in the morning, his cock wasn't trying to get between my thighs. When it then might have wanted to, it was in my mouth, and I wasn't going to let it go anywhere.

Hester's and my talking about how we had spent Saturday night, when we were lying together Sunday evenings became sort of a ritual, reaffirming to ourselves that we liked sex with men as much as we did with each other. I don't know if Hester considered that was a reason for our always talking about sex with cocks, but I did. After enjoying licking her pussy again and being aroused by her tongue and fingers, I needed a little reminder that I liked a cock in my pussy and in my mouth just as much. Maybe she didn't need a reminder, but she enjoyed telling in arousing detail what she and Jim had done, and I enjoyed listening and reciprocating.

Maybe we competed a little, not just in telling details but also in what we did with the men. That probably started when I told her that Bob had surprised me by asking me to kneel on the bed and had then fucked me from behind. When I enthused about how good that had been, the next Sunday evening, Hester was eager to tell me that she and Jim had done it that way. Jim had been surprised by her suggestion, but had been delighted. She added the detail that his hips had been slapping against her ass. Bob's had been too, against mine the week before, but I hadn't mentioned that. When she did, however, I interjected that their slapping together couldn't have been louder than what Bob and I had done. We slapped each other's ass with our hand, chuckling. We didn't just tell; we commented about what the other one was describing.

So the details got better. We had both told about waking up and feeling an aroused cock probing between our thighs and that we had then had a nice, easy, and long fuck. The next time Hester told about that, she included telling that both their hands had also been rubbing her clitoris. That didn't surprise me; I had assumed that they had done that, since Bob's and my fingers always did. I knew how good it was to be fucked and have my clitoris aroused. When she described it that Sunday evening, however, telling how their fingers had been rubbing and how good it had felt, I asked: "Better than my tongue?"

I had just wanted to make a fresh comment, but she was surprised and then almost shocked, asking: "You want to lick my pussy, while he's fucking me?"

Then I was surprised, also shocked; that wasn't what I asked, but I suddenly envisioned what she was suggesting: my licking her clitoris with a cock moving in and out her pussy - right in front of my nose! And if it was in front of my nose, I must be lying so that she could lick my pussy - three of us naked in bed together, and his seeing what we did with each other! Wasn't I supposed to prefer to suck his cock instead, if it was right there in front of my face?

"I didn't say that," I replied softly, but still with the mental image of what she had suggested. Then I hid my confusion by asking:

"Would you want to, lick mine while he's fucking me?"

"Jim or Bob?"

I recognized that she was avoiding replying to what I had asked, so she must have also realized what she had suggested.

"That wasn't the question," I replied, feeling less shocked.

"Oooh! I don't know, I don't think so. Shit! All three of us ... like that?"

She also had my mental image, just maybe not including her also licking my pussy, but if I were going to lick hers, while she was being fucked, that would be the least she could do to be fair. To really be fair, then we would have to do it the other way, with him fucking me. Who, Bob or Jim? Just any cock, and she licked so good, better than fingers.

"Wasn't that what you were suggesting?" I asked, but admitting to myself that - in principle - it sounded like a very good idea.

She gave a nervous chuckle and replied:

"I thought you did, ... at least, that was what I was beginning to think."

We both giggled like embarrassed school girls. Our hands were still on the other's ass and rubbed. I agreed:

I guess you did, guess you could have; then I did too."

"Hmm?! Your tongue would be better."

"Yours too," I agreed.

"And with him fucking you?"

"If he wanted to?" I replied, thinking of Jim, then generously adding:

"Or if Bob did with you, better than my fingers in your pussy."

"Uhmmm! If you say so, better than mine in yours."

"Hm-hmm! If you also say so," I agreed.

When my hand slid back over her hipbone, hers slid over mine. We both hummed, and our fingers slid further, exploring in pussy hair. We both moaned, raising our thighs a little, inviting the other's fingers to find where our pussies wanted to be arouse. They did, and we moaned again, chuckling. That was good, but we had been talking about fingers in each other's pussy. Was hers wet enough for that? It felt like mine was.

My fingers slid down between her pussy lips. She nodded with moan and drew her thigh up on mine, turning her pelvis up, making her opening more available for my fingers. It was wet enough. She chuckled with a moan, as her hand pushed deeper between my thighs. I drew my foot up, raising her thigh with mine. My fingers slipped into her pussy, and hers slid into mine.

"Mmmm, uhm-hmm," we both moaned, then moaning again, as our fingers wiggled and twined in each other. I was thinking her fingers must enjoy being in my pussy as much as mine enjoyed being in hers, exploring the difference between where it was softer and firmer. It felt like hers were too, and felt arousing. That was more interesting than holding a cock,. not more interesting that licking and sucking one, however. I moaned, and she did, but then chuckled and murmured:

"Better than doing it to ourselves."

"Um-hmm, and better doing it to you."

"Um-hmm, nice pussy; my fingers like it," she replied,

"Mine, yours too," I agreed.

We made each other moan, more humming chuckles, as we felt our pussies contract, sharing our recognition that our fingers were arousing each other. They did for several seconds. We both just moaned without chuckling, feeling more aroused. Then I remembered our previous remarks and said:

"But not as good as a cock."

"Hm-hmm, no, of course not.

Her fingers began to fuck me. I hadn't intended to suggest they do that, but I didn't object and began to finger-fuck her pussy in return. She chuckled with a nod and then moaned - and made me moan. It couldn't be as good as being fucked by cock, I thought, but immediately recognized that I was just rationalizing that a cock should feel better; what her fingers were doing ... - now a third one also in my pussy! - were feeling so arousing. She moaned, when my index finger joined the other two in her pussy.

I thought we had talked enough, that we just wanted to give each other our orgasms, but then her fingers stopped fucking, just moving deep in my pussy. She chuckled in her throat and asked:

"And you want someone to lick your pussy, while he's fucking you?"

My fingers plunged into her pussy a couple of more times before I replied:

"Wouldn't you?"

Her fingers began to fuck me again, as mine continued. Then she murmured:

"Of course it would be good. Oh, you want me to do that too? Don't think I can with one hand."

"Just fuck me," I replied, understanding her implication that she couldn't finger-fuck me and also rub my clitoris.

Her fingers fucked, and mine did, both of us moaning, as our fingers tried to fuck as good as cocks could. When her hips twitched, mine did, and then she exclaimed softly: "Oh fuck!"

I looked forward to feeling her pussy fill my palm with her pussy juice again, and wasn't disappointed, just a little, that my orgasm didn't make that happen. After our moans were just sighs, she pulled her fingers out and put them all in her mouth, sucking and licking them with smiling eyes. With a wet slurp, I took mine out of her pussy. As I was about to do the same, it occurred to me first to wipe my wet palm on her cheek. I did and then had my fingers in my mouth, enjoying the taste of her pussy juice.

I still was, when she removed her fingers and grinned and said:

"We still taste better," and wiped her cheek and licked her fingers again.

I nodded, taking my fingers out of my mouth. She snickered and remarked:

"And almost as good as cock - your fingers."

"Yours too, maybe just as good. I was thinking a cock must be better, but then thought that I was just wanting to think it must be. Now I'm really not sure."

"Hmm? Me neither, now that you've said that - just as fucking good."

"Your orgasm sure seemed like it was."

It was, when I come like that, better than a lot of times, back when guys came in a minute and thought that was it."

"Don't have to tell me!" I agreed.

We embraced, our thighs overlapping, our breasts pressed together, as we kissed, our tongues trying to find traces of our own pussy juice in the other's mouth.

That was the only time that we just finger-fucked each other at the same time, but it wasn't the only time that our talking about sex with the men resulted in our having sex with each other a second time.