tagLesbian SexChristmas Eve at Church

Christmas Eve at Church


Hi! My name's Ellie. I used to live pretty wild and stupid, but then I had a baby and I decided to try and be smarter. Inside, though, I'm still as impulsive and hungry as ever. Sometimes, to help myself work through the drive without acting out, I sit down to write about it.

I wanna talk about Nikki today.

So you get the picture, I'm eighteen with long dark hair and brown eyes that shift between chestnut and mahogany depending on the light. I'm in good shape, but I'm not an athlete or a model. I work hard to keep my curves fit and think I do my 36C breasts and 34-inch hips justice. I wear glasses and a nose-stud, and I almost always dress to show off cleavage.

The night of the Christmas Eve service at my church, I was wearing a navy blue skirt suit with a scarlet silk halter top. I wore a navy bra under the top, but I only wore pantyhose under my skirt. Closed toe heels completed the outfit. I didn't go looking to play around, but I was hoping to catch some looks.

Instead of sitting with my family, I sat with my friend Nikki off to one side. She's a pale, slinky girl with long red hair. Her eyes are a dark green and shaped like almonds. Her lips are delicate, rolled gently on the bottom and pouting slightly on the top. That night she wore a black dress with neon green flashes. Her stockings were black, and so were the heels she wore.

As always, Nikki's look was cute and playful with a quiet and mature innocence that was intentionally pretty but accidentally sexy.

Nikki isn't my best friend, but she's my oldest friend. Her dad and my dad work together, and they were transferred out of state at the same time, and to the same new location. Because of that, even though Nikki is queer and I'm bi, and I think she's head-over-heels adorable, we've never done anything. From time to time we flirt playfully, but we always cut it short. It's not an unspoken rule; it's one we've talked through and agreed on.

But reluctantly.

And in my mind, I have never been able to commit to it. On Christmas Eve, when we were standing around chatting and my ears were soothed by her voice, my eyes delighted with her form, and my nose tantalized by the lightly intoxicating scent she wore, my mind raced straight for where I can never go in real life...

Nikki catches my eyes caressing the curve of her hips like my hands wish they could. She smiles and tips my chin up with her finger tip. As if teasing a boy caught staring at her chest, she says, "My eyes are up here, sweetie."

I swallow down a sudden nervousness. Her eyes are so deep and clear. They're no safer to look at. My glasses are no barrier to protect me from falling in.

Suddenly, Nikki's face pales and I see her lick her lips and swallow. "Maybe we should just sit down."

She turns.

I grab her wrist gently from behind. "It's voluntary."

"What is?" she asks without turning around.

My gaze trails slowly down her back. "Our rule. No one will punish us if we break it."

"We can't do that," she says. But then she turns and draws a little heart on my cheek with the tip of one elegant finger. "As much as I may want to."

We sit apart from the crowd. Each of us tries once or twice to start innocent small talk. Neither of us can even finish the sentence we start. We sit quietly. I steal glances at her. Occasionally, I think she's stealing them at me, too. I inhale the scent she's wearing. I'm not sure what it is, but it draws me in. The last thing I need is another force pulling me towards my friend.

As the service starts, and we song Christmas songs, I can hardly find my voice, because there are few sounds in the world that are more purely pretty than Nikki's alto. Sometimes, when she sings, I can't understand how I don't fall in love with her. I told her that once when we'd been sneaking drinks. It had touched her.

And tonight, when I close my eyes and just listen to the magic, she knows when I am thinking, and she reaches down to give my hand a discrete squeeze.

I open my eyes and look at her.

She smiles with something deeper than understanding.

My soprano is thin and wavery but I try to sing for her. I try to pretend I'm returning the favor, even though listening to me is no special treat.

Tonight, though, as I try, her hand finds the small of my back. To the rest of the congregation it hopefully looks like innocent friendship, but she's never touched me like that before, and to me it feels like something else. Energy surges through me. I'm not used to feeling vulnerable to another girl, but tonight I'm vulnerable to Nikki.

When we sit back down, she takes my hand and clasps it in her lap. My heart pounds. My pulse races. I lick my lips and look at her. I can't think what to say.

She releases my hand and rests hers on my knee. Glancing furtively to make sure no one can easily see, she slides her hand up thigh a bit and whispers, "What are we afraid of?"

"That we might ruin our friendship?" I suggest.

Nikki's lifts her hand to my cheek and then leans close to whisper, "Maybe after service you can let me ruin those clothes instead."

My hand is still on her lap. I move it to her thigh, caressing her silky stockings. Not sure I want to let her have time to change her mind, I draw my hand up inside her dress, caressing the inner edge of her stockings. Nikki's breath catches and she mumbles something, but she also parts her legs slightly.

My fingers trail up past the edge of her stocking to touch the flesh of her inner thigh. We both muffle a gasp. I've never felt anything as soft, silky, and delicate as I'm feeling right now. Her thighs are like candy for my fingers.

A bit higher, pulling the dress with me, and I can feel the heat coming from her.

Then the dampness on her red bush.

Then the complex textures of her naked young pussy.

And then, in the middle of church, I draw two fingers up her labia, then back down, before sliding them between her tight moist, lips.

Nikki can't help it.

She throws her head back. She scoots forward in her seat.

It's dark enough that people can't see what's going on.

Surely some notice that something unusual is happening, but they can't tell what exactly.

I frig my childhood friend in the middle of the Christmas Eve service. I want to make it slow and sensual, but right now I don't have the control or the restraint. I'm like a girl unwrapping the Christmas present she'd been dreaming off. Faster. Harder.

Nikki moans deep in her throat.

Her pussy sloshes audibly.

My thumb toys with her clit.

She humps against my hand.

Her cheeks turn red.

I want her to cum so bad.

When she does, leaving quite the wet spot on the church seat, she turns a little toward me in her seat and looks at me with fire in her eyes. It's all I can do not to climb up into my seat and and bend over her lap to eat that delicious pussy of hers right in the middle of church.

She grabs my wrist and races out of the sanctuary with me, doubtless getting looks, but neither of us cared. Moving quickly, she pulls me into the restroom, where she plasters me against the wall and kisses my face deliriously. Her lips are like firm, moist butterflies dancing all over my face.

"Why," I ask, panting, "weren't you wearing panties?"

Nikki nibbles on my ear. "I never wear panties when I'm around you."

"Oh god," I groan, spreading my legs as my friend's hand slips up under my skirt. She uses her nails to tear open my pantyhose, and wastes no time in sliding one long, elegant finger up between my pussy lips.

Her moath is on my throat, and I'm humping up and down on her finger when the door opens and Mrs. Grant, our youth group leader, comes in. "Girls are you okay, I saw you leaving quickly -- oh my god!"

"Don't stop, Nikki," I beg.

Nikki doesn't stop fingering me. I don't stop humping her hand. Together, we get my jacket off.

"Girls, please stop!" Mrs. Grant demands.

We get my top off.

I'm panting.

Nikki's face is red.

"Girls -- you're in church!"

We get my bra off.

Nikki kisses my tit, nibbles gently on it and then runs her tongue around the nipples. she looked at Mrs. Grant, "Tell me you haven't wanted to see Ellie's tits, Mrs. Grants."

"I'm not a fag!" she protests. "And neither are you!"

"Like fuck I'm not a fag," Nikki giggles, sliding to her knees. My hands tug on my tits as my childhood friend crawls up inside my skirt, using both hands and her mouth on me.

I can't do anything other than hold on and make pornographic noises. I look at Mrs. Grant, my eyes glassy with passion. She's in her forties, and in good shape, especially for a mother of three. Her hair is tastefully styles, dyed blonde. Her blue eyes remain clear and her skin soft. I smile at her. No impulse control. I left one tit, bend down and kiss it. "Wanna taste, Mrs. Grant?"

"Ellie! Nikki! You've got to stop!" She blocks the door. "Someone else could come in here."

"I'm gonna cum in here," I joke. "And soon. And then Nikki's gonna cum in here." The redhead moans inside my skirt. "You can cum in here too if you want."

"Girls! You can't do this! It's wrong! And you're in church!"

I roll my head back against the wall as my thighs tug as I begin a series of small but electric climaxes. As soon as they pass, Nikki pulls my skirt off. She looks at Mrs. Grant. "If you think the pastor doesn't want to see us eating eachother's pussies, you don't know guys very well."

I giggle and stand behind Nikki, unzipping her dress. Her skin is beautiful and creamy, and I run my tongue down her spine. As soon as t the dress is on the restroom floor, Nikki bends over the sink and I began wolfing down her rosy pussy from behind, my hands clenching on her hips and ass.

"I don't want to tell your parents," Mrs. Grant says. "But I'll have to if you don't stop."

Nikki bites her own forearm to silence her screams as she our long pent-up passion drives her over the top with unusual quickness. We both look at Mrs. Grant. "You sure you don't want some?" Nikki asks.

Blushing, Mrs. Grant runs out of the restroom.

I hum, buryhing my nose in my friend's cunt and licking at her. "We should go before we get in trouble," I say, reluctantly.

Nikki turns around, her legs spread, pulling herself up onto the sink counter. "You want to lose a moment of this?"

"God, girl," I mutter, tugging down her bra so that I can suck on her small, perky breast while two-finger stabbing at her pussy.

"I've wanted you so long," Nikki pants, scooting a little closer to me.

"I've always wanted you," I agreed, moving to suck the other tit while fingering her even harder.

Her fingers scratch at the sides of my tits and then at my back. I spread my legs and start rubbing my cunt on her long, pretty leg like an animal.

We melt into each other, losing track of the details. there is nothing but our friendship and our lust. Our bodies, strained and raw. Our pleasure, our intimacy, our ecstasy.

When we pull apart, we are exhausted and drained. We're covered in sweat and fluids. My back and my breasts sting with scratches. Nikkie's tits are purple with love bites. Our faces are red, our eyes dazed.

Slowly, wordlessly we use paper towels to dry off and get dressed, only once we are together again, kissing one last time, sweetly on the lips, with a silent promise to never put a barrier between us again.

Then we leave, and we find Mrs. Grant outside the door, her own face red with embarrassment. "I kept people away," she says quietly, "but don't do that again."

I smile, kiss two fingers and press them to her cheek. "There's no expiration date on the offer."

Mrs. Grant closes her eyes tensely, and my friend and I walk away, laughing.

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