Discovering Sex in a Girls College

Now in only our underwear, we embraced on the bed with our legs in a knot. We took turns kissing each other's necks, our lips trailing down in turn to each other's bared breasts. I realized I was moaning, a whimpering as she licked and flicked my erect nipples. Her teeth nibbled as she suckled, sending shivers through my body. My fingers kneaded her slim behind, so muscular and athletic, and I felt her hands squeezing my bottom at the same time, massaging me until the heat between my legs grew unbearable. When her fingers touched my wet panties, I bit my lip to cut off the scream of pleasure. She stroked my wet swollen sex through my underwear, and immediately I began grinding my hips against her hand, flipping onto my stomach so that I was lying on top of her and humping my crotch against her hands and leg like a dog in heat. This was what I had imagined all of those nights while lying on my stomach masturbating, fantasizing about lying on top against her naked just like this.

We explored each others bodies, lost in time, lost in the pleasure, lost in the taste of sweat and the musk of sexual excitement so long repressed. When she pulled my underwear down my thighs, she murmured that my panties were "so wet," and I flushed with shame. When I pulled her panties off, they were just as wet as mine, and I teasingly chastised her for being just as wet as me, and she giggled and grabbed my head by my hair, directing my face between her legs. I lost my breath, so overwhelmed by the commanding way she directed me physically with forceful hands, just like the way she led me on the dance floor. Her confidence melted me, and as my nostrils filled with her humid musky odor, just as they had on the dance floor that day.

I enthusiastically began kissing and lapping at her wet swollen lips. Her pussy was covered with tangly hair. She had not waxed or trimmed like I had, and I remembered how when she swam at school I had noticed with a thrill the stray pubic hairs that came out of the crotch of her bathing suit. Her musky scent seemed all the stronger because it coated her long bushy pubic hair, as if an oozing oily perfume that soaked into a tangled hairy sponge.

I licked and sucked and thrust with my tongue and savoured the slightly tangy, sour and salty taste of her wet lips. I was so hungry to eat her swollen sex, nibbling her flesh, the hard nub of her clitoris between my soft lips and scratching teeth. Her fingers pulled my hair as she gasped and convulsed, shooting pain from my scalp through my body like a knife, cutting deliciously through the pleasure I felt pleasing her. When she arched her back and groaned through her first convulsive orgasm, a squirt of her tangy fluid filled my mouth. I swirled it in my mouth and swallowed it with the thirst of months of long denial. She was using my mouth and face like I had used the pillow earlier, gripping my hair and mashing my nose and mouth against her pubic mound and robbery swollen labia and hard clit as if she had forgotten that it was my face, treating my tongue and lips and nose only as objects to rub against her as she came. She let out a low throbbing groan as I felt her pussy clench and unclench. As the contractions in her legs and stomach subsided and the clenched grip of her fingers slowly released my hair, I gently lapped at her glistening mound like a puppy eager to please her Master, eliciting twitches in her legs. "No more...no more..." she whispered quietly.

I stopped and she pulled me up, my face cupped in her hands, and we kissed, sharing the ambrosia of her pleasure. Soon, her fingers were inside me, delving into me, rubbing and triggering groans. Her fingers were so different than mine. Long, probing, strong. I had tried to pretend that my fingers were hers when I masturbated each night, but I could never have imagined what they actually felt like now. I was like a puppet on her fingers, each flicker of her fingertips sending my body into twitching and convulsions. She began sucking my nipples at the same time, biting them gently until I tasted blood from biting my lips to contain my screams.

She knew somehow when I was close to coming that I wanted her fingers to thrust harder, so that the palm of her hand spanked loudly against my pubic mound and the sting of each slap sent a burning wave from my clitoris through my stomach. When I came for the first time from her touch, I could not stifle the cry that escaped my throat. But I didn't care if my parents heard me, only that finally after so many months of repressed desire, finally my love had found me.

She kissed away the tears that rolled down my cheeks as we lay panting, our hearts racing, our fingers touching each others soft wetness, a memory that will last until I die.