First Porn Shop Visit

Then he took her from the side and pushed harder. He lifted up her leg and pushed as deep as he could. They both came. I drove the dildo as deep as it could go and my body quaked. My muscles contracted around the smooth toy, and I had to pull the rabbit away from my clit as my hips rocked. I screamed in release. I sat there for minutes recovering, the towel a sticky mess of my fluids and lube. I cleaned up, hid the tapes and toys under some keepsakes in my room and took a shower.

The next day, I went shopping for some new outfits for the school year, and my father asked me to drop off a package at a business he dealt with. As I tried on outfits in the changing room, thoughts of the porn, my new toys and Eve spun around in my head. I stared at my tits and erect nipples in the tall mirror. I fingered myself gently, and couldn't wait to get back home for more porn and vibrators.

First I had to drop off the package. The old friend of my dad made several inappropriate comments about my appearance ("Well didn't you grow up in all the right ways;" "I bet those Italian boys followed you all over Rome whenever you wore those shorts"). It was creepy, but he was a sexy old flirt, and it kind of turned me on even more. I thought about teasing him and flirting back aggressively, but I didn't want him to say anything to my dad.

I headed toward home and realized I was once again by my favorite porn shop. Instinctively, I pulled into the parking lot and walked in, immediately spotting Eve. We both smiled, and she walked over and met me by a display of ridiculous mannequins wearing 4-inch heels and cheesy lingerie.

"I am convinced that no live woman has ever worn these outfits," Eve said. "But men keep buying them as gifts."

I laughed too hard, nervous around this woman who knew way too much about my sexual fantasies.

"I just wanted to thank you for your help yesterday," I said. "Everything you recommended worked out perfectly."

"Everything? How did you possibly have time to try everything?"

"Well, all the toys. And I got through one movie," I said.

"The all-girl cast?" she asked.

"No, no. I didn't start that one yet," I said

"I am very interested to see what you think of that one," she said, leaning in so close I could smell her hair. I blushed, and touched her shoulder. Flirting with a woman was a lot like flirting with a guy, but the conversation is not as dumb.

"I had a bet with myself," Eve said, looking me up and down. "I guessed that Lily went home and made herself come with the little vibrator. Then later made herself come with the rabbit. But was too nervous to use the beads."

Goosebumps ran down my arms. "You nailed it," I said.

She nodded. "I bet you mad a sticky mess, didn't you, you naughty girl," her teasing was getting me wet. "I give you a couple weeks before you experiment with the anal beads."

My only answer was to blush.

"I was hoping you would come back. I pulled something for you," she said.

She handed me a bag. Inside was a thick magazine. The cover had two women, one white and one dark-skinned. They were naked on the beach, the darker woman with her back in the sand, her lover with her face between her partner's legs, looking up at her as if seeking permission to lick her.

I raised my eyebrows and blushed more.

"Most of the girl-girl porn is awful. It is produced by men who have never even seen two real women together," Eve said. "But this one is a little better. My treat."

"Thanks," I said. "I will definitely check it out."

Another customer came in, and Eve walked over to help. I wandered around for a bit, but I was feeling embarrassed in the shop without Eve to guide me. I walked by her and waved, mouthing "thank you" as I walked out.

I drove home flustered. Clearly, I was attracted to Eve, but was it a sexual attraction or just admiration? She was so confident and unabashed in her sexuality. I couldn't tell if she was a lesbian, a straight girl teasing me or bisexual. I only knew that I liked being close to her. And I loved the idea that she was thinking about me, my toys and my orgasms.

I had the house to myself again. This time I stripped as smuggled the bag into my room. I lay down naked on my made bed and pulled out the magazine Eve had picked out for me.

The images that I liked the most of a woman taking another woman's nipple into her mouth. At that age and stage of sexual experience, I could not imagine myself doing some of the things on those pages. But I had fantasized about fondling, licking and sucking other women's breasts before. My best friend Kit had tiny A cup breasts. They suited her body type perfectly. I would glance at her changing and imagine touching them, teasing her nipples with my fingers and tongue.

My friend Dena lived in our dorm and I often saw her changing. She was a softball player, 5-10 and thick, but just as sexy as tiny Kit. She had huge tits that flopped out when she took a bra off. I imagined slobbering all over them, getting lost in between her breasts.

And I dreamed of a woman's touch on my breasts. Not the over-eager sucking of inexperienced young men, or the aggressive groping of forceful jocks who think they know everything about women. But the skillful, deft touch of a woman who knows what feels good.

I pulled out the small vibrator and let it hum against my nipples as I leafed through the pages. The images of the women progressed from nipple play to fingering. I moved the vibrator to my clit. I turned the page, and the white woman was now kneeling in front of her dark-skinned lover, two fingers against her clit and her tongue outstretched toward the woman's labia. I pictured myself kneeling before Eve. I wondered what she tasted like. How another clit would feel against my fingertips. How her pussy would be similar from mine, different from mine. I turned the vibrator up one level. I pressed my index and middle fingers inside of myself, pushing in and up, and feeling my walls tighten as the vibrations stimulated my clitoris. I turned the page.

The women had switched roles. Now the blonde was lying down, one leg outstretched and the other bent at the knee. Both her hands cupped her own breasts, with her thumbs brushing against her nipples. The darker woman was between her legs, tongue gently licking the bottom of her vagina, with her thumb pushing against her lover's clit. I imagined what it would feel like to have Eve between my legs, expertly manipulating my pleasure zones like no man could. The orgasm came over me quickly, surprising me. My whole body spun as my nerve endings fired quickly, but I kept the vibrator pressed hard against my clit. I held my breath for 20 seconds and felt the muscles of my vagina clamping down on my fingers. I dropped the vibrator and ran my hands over my tits, as my breathing slowed down and my heart rate came back to normal. It was the first time I could remember having an orgasm in years without picturing a cock inside me.

I turned another page, and a piece of yellow paper was in the middle. In elegant cursive, there was a note. "I bet you came by page 10."

I laughed loudly. She was wrong. I couldn't make it pass 8. "I'm glad you stopped by again," it read. "If you are as interested as I am in meeting again, come to this address tonight after 9."

I smiled, and stroked my tits thinking of her, thinking about me masturbating to photos she selected. I ran my finger across my wet pussy, then without thinking about it, I put the finger in between my lips, tasting my fluids and fantasizing about Eve tasting me. I suddenly needed more. I pulled out the rabbit, quickly pushed the head inside of me and turned it on. I didn't need any more pictures. The images were in my mind. Her nipple between my lips, my fingers exploring her, my thumb rubbing her clit, my tongue lapping her pussy while I positioned myself so she could finger me. The second orgasm was more violent. I shook, and pressed the vibrator deeper. My scream echoed around the empty house and fluid leaked down my thighs.

I showered and got ready to meet Eve. I tried on several outfits, but everything that I thought was sexy just made me look kind of slutty. Heels, a tight top and a short skirt might be too much. I pulled on thigh highs, but those felt like I was trying to hard. This was years before Google maps, so I didn't actually know where I was going or what kind of place we were meeting. It was a very warm night. Eventually, I settled on an outfit that I had bought for Italy. It was navy blue with a subtle white floral pattern, with a babydoll shape. It was short, but not comically short, and with an innocent vibe. It had tiny straps and was cut low enough to show some cleavage. But it would be perfectly OK on a casual dinner date or even at a church picnic. I remember that I wore it once in Rome, but every Italian guy I met was leering at my tits. I felt so self-conscious, I stopped wearing it. Tonight, I wanted some attention. But not from a guy. I decided against long heels, instead going with blue shoes with a mid-heel and a cute bow design across the toes.

I mapped out my trip on an actual map, and drove nervously through the warm night. The directions took me toward downtown, past the hospital where I was born and into a busy neighborhood of restaurants and nightspots. I slowly realized where I was headed even before I reached the address. It was one of the biggest strip clubs in our city, a town known for big strip clubs. I nervously parked and walked toward the gaudy entrance in my innocent girl outfit, which now seemed kind of funny for a strip club. Packs of dudes were headed in. I spotted one couple. But I was the only single woman.

"21?" the huge doorman asked. I hadn't considered this, as I reached into my clutch to pull out my ID.

"I'm not," I said sheepishly.. "I was just coming here to meet someone."

He looked at my license, and stamped my hand with a red mark. "Girls 18-21 can enter, but can't drink. No cover charge for women."

He looked me up and down.

"Sit over on the left side with the individual seats," he said supportively. "Stay away from big groups of guys. And make sure to be in the sightline of a security guard - guys wearing all black. Don't drink anything handed to you from anyone other than wait staff. Dressed like that, and by yourself, you are going to get some attention. But you'll be fine."

Every guy that walked by looked me over. Some said something about schoolgirls. I realized that by picking a more innocent outfit, I had inadvertently turned myself into a character in many dude's fetishes. I blushed so much, red splotches showed up on my neck and exposed shoulders.

I paused and considered turning around. The thoughtful doorman stopped me. "Nah. Don't worry about them. You look good. Damn good. You just gotta be careful. I'll tell the boys to keep an eye on you: Innocent-looking, 20-year-old Lily. Wearing the babydoll dress."

I shuffled in quickly and tried to find a safe, quiet spot. It was dark, and smelled of men's cologne and watered down alcohol. There was neon everywhere. There were three stages with women dancing. I apparently came in late in the song and the stripping had already happened. All three women were naked. I walked toward the left side and found a seat away from any packs of guys. I had expected all blondes with bad dye jobs and fake boobs, but the three women were all more uniquely beautiful Farthest from me was a Latina, who looked like a young Gloria Estefan, with tits like mine and a resplendent triangle of dark pubic hair. In the middle was a blonde with Southern-belle looks. She was tall with smallish, perky breasts, with just a small strip of light pubic hair. And closest to me was a brunette who looked like she would have fit in at most sororities at my school. She was my height, with straight shoulder-length hair. Her boobs were bigger than mine, and she was probably 15 pounds heavier than me, with a plump ass. They all wore nothing but heels, although the brunette had kept on a pair of thigh highs, where she had bills stashed. The other two had garters for cash.

They gyrated slowly, almost bored. Men placed bills by their thighs, and the women would blow them a kiss. The song ended. A waitress came by, and I ordered a Coke. I looked around nervously for Eve. Was she here as a customer, a server or bartender, or was she really going to show up in heels and cheesy lingerie? An announcement was made, three new dancers were coming out.

The women who had been on stage made their way into the crowd, offering lap dances or trips to the VIP room. I heard the DJ announce the names of three new dancers, none were named Eve. But there she was. No longer in a T-shirt or jeans. She had on a wig or extensions, with long curly hair, done up primly. She was wearing comically high heels, but the rest of her outfit was conservative for the club. It was like the sexy Halloween costume of "slutty business woman." The top was a blazer that would have been fine for most offices, except it was cut extremely low to show off her cleavage almost down to her navel, and the skirt barely reached mid-thigh. She was playing a character: The sexy, aloof, business woman or young wife about town. I looked at the eyes of the men, and many of them were into it.

"On our the left stage; she's all business in the boardroom, and in the bedroom. It's Whitley!" the DJ yelled. I spit out part of my drink laughing. If you weren't around in the early 1990s, Whitley was a sitcom character, a sexy stuck-up light-skinned college student played by Jasmine Guy. Eve almost broke character as she saw me laughing, but she lifted her chin and got back to dancing. She haughtily pointed her toe at a guy in his 40s who was clapping for her. He stood up, pulled her garter and placed a bill against her thigh. She didn't even thank him, and her aloof demeanor fit the character she was playing.

The song moved on, and she danced while slowly unbuttoning the top. She let the blazer hang for a few moments, showing off her abs and the edges of a lacy, strapless bra. The jacket came off, and she turned around to wiggle her ass toward the crowd. Two more men added to the cash on her garter, and she bent down and looked at them through her legs, as if she were a center snapping a football. She stood up, and slowly undid the zipper on the back of the skirt, letting it slip to the floor. The heels made her legs look even longer, and her coffee-colored skin was the same tone from her ankles to her neck. I looked around and noticed the other strippers were wearing rhinestone-covered underwear or metallic-colored thongs. Eve was wearing blue lace panties that matched her strapless bra. Her stripper lingerie was a little sexier than most women wear to work, but more classy than typical strippers.

The women on the other stages were already naked, but Eve was still teasing the crowd in her prim lingerie. She finally undid her bra, but dramatically turned away at the same time. She then spun quickly in rhythm with the song, now with her hands over her breasts. Finally, she pulled then away to reveal those perky C-cup breasts that I had been thinking about since seeing her nipples poking from under her T-shirt that first day at the store. I wondered how many men were squirming to hide erections. Even in the crowded club, my pussy was dampening. Men rushed to the stage to add to her garter stash, others threw cash on the stage. Eve winked in my direction, but 10 dudes thought she was looking at them.

She put her thumb inside the waistband of her panties, and pulled it out and down, showing her hip bone. Men hollered, "Take it off!" She pulled down one side to the middle of her thigh, and then snapped it back. Then she put both thumbs on opposite sides and pulled down slowly, turning away from the crowd while she wiggled the panties down around her ankles and stepped out of them. Men howled. She turned to face them, swinging the panties around on with her right hand.

My eyes focused on the tiny triangle of dark hair pointing toward her pussy lips. My labia swelled and dampened. Her left hand moved in front of her crotch, almost as if she was trying to cover herself, but then she delicately moved her hand upward, her middle finger trailing and just barely rubbing her slit, then trailing up her stomach before landing on her nipple, where she drew circles with her finger. She closed her eyes and threw her head back and sighed. I could see men sitting up and adjusting to cover hard-ons. She gyrated, still spinning the panties in front of her. Then she threw them like a Frisbee. They fluttered through the air and landed on my knee.

The crowd erupted. I was mortified for a second. But I picked them up and mimicked her spinning of the underwear. Then I held them by the waistband, and I brought my hand to my lips and blew Eve an exaggerated kiss. Men whooped and threw more cash. A few even tossed bills at me. The song ended, and I scooped up the bills, and walked toward the stage. Eve walked to the edge and presented her inner thigh to me. I tucked the cash into her garter. I slowly trailed my fingers along her leg, enjoying her smooth skin. She smiled down at me. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to hand her the panties. She wouldn't take them. Instead she extended her foot in the air toward me. I pulled the panties over her foot. She put that foot down and pointed her other toe toward me, and I pulled the underwear over her other leg. Then she shimmied and leaned down, as I stretched upward to pull her panties back over her knees and up her hips. The crowd whooped louder. She leaned down to kiss my cheek. "You are amazing," I whispered.

"Look at you," she said. "I'm so glad you came. And, you dressed like an innocent-looking tramp. We can have a lot of fun tonight and make some cash teasing these guys."

My insides were melting and my heart was racing. My whole body was glowing pink. She gathered the rest of her clothes and went backstage. I turned around and a group of men were staring at me, their eyes bulging, some with visible erections pressing against their pants. They had had definitely been able to see my panties as I stretched to put on Eve's underwear. One tried to hand me money, and another offered me a drink, but a large security guard stepped between us. He looked down at me, trying not to laugh. "Girl, you need to get paid if you are going to get this kind of attention," he said. I sat back down feeling sexy and horny.

Eve emerged seconds later fully dressed as Whitley, weaving through men asking for lap dances. She took my hand, and pulled me up. "Just follow my lead," she said.

We stopped in front of three guys who had been politely calling for her, ignoring larger groups of loud young guys. These men looked like a group of golf buddies. The oldest and most handsome had bright blue eyes and gray hair and the muscular build of a former jock. Think early-1980s Paul Newman. Next to him was a 45-year-old looking guy, dark hair with spots of gray on his temple. The other guy had a sweet smile and seemed shy. He was 15-20 pounds overweight, but still cute.

Paul Newman asked "Whitley" if she was available for dances. I couldn't hear all the financials, but something was worked out. Eve sat me down in a chair across from the three guys, and started stripping between us. This routine was different then on stage. She managed to make all three guys feel like she was paying them attention, moving back and forth, flirting with a hand to their arm, shoulder or knee. She was down to her lingerie again, and my eyes moved from her to the men. They were enraptured, and it was easy to see why. I wiggled in the chair, hoping my own excitement wouldn't leak through my underwear. I wanted so badly to put my hands on her ass cheeks and pull her to me.