Girlfriends, Valentines, and Lovers

This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.

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Tired of all the games men play, two women become men hating lesbians for Valentine's Day.

"Unbelievable!" Susan stormed in the house slamming shut the door.

"What's the matter?" Christine poked her out of the kitchen to look at her best friend and roommate standing and seething in the living room.

"It's like college days all over again. There's a bunch of guys moving someone in or out and they took all the parking spaces. I had to park a street over. Then, I had to walk through all the leering, staring, and catcalls, as if I was going to work and having to walk by a construction site, instead of just coming home. I hate men. They'll all so juvenile idiots."

"I think someone is finally moving in across the hall. I hope they're nice," said Christine. "It would be good to have a friendly neighbor, in case we need to borrow something or run out of something."

"Yeah, well, I just hope it's not a man. I'm done with men. Men suck! I hate men. I hate all of them. If I ever date another man, please have me committed," said Susan flopping on the couch with her arms folded.

Christine removed her apron, walked in the living room from the kitchen, and sat in the chair across from her friend.

Susan looked at her roommate waiting for her to agree with her verbal proclamation that guys suck and that she'd have her committed, should she ever date another man.

"Still this angry over George?"

"Valentine's Day is tough without a boyfriend taking me somewhere and buying me something. Tall, blonde, and shapely, I was always the pretty girl and the most popular girl, now that I'm older and wanting to get married, I'm the ignored woman and the dropped ex-girlfriend because these guys can't commit," said Susan.

"Join the club. I'm in the same boat. It's different than when our parents were young. No one wants to get married today. They'd rather window shop, while trying on the goods, before they buy, that is, if they ever buy. With the high rate of divorces today, they'll always the chance we'll be returned and back out on the dating market, again," she said with a laugh.

"A few of the women in the office got flowers," said Susan. "A lot of them have plans for Valentine's Day and here we are, two good looking, young, single, and available women alone again without boyfriends. This sucks. Men suck. I hate them."

"I know you're right and I know men suck, but not all men suck, Susan. We'll both find the right man and, one day, someone who will sweep us off our feet. Married with children and with a husband to cater to, we'll look back at this one day and laugh, while wishing we were single and carefree again."

"Yeah, I know, you're right, Christine."

"Instead of being mired down with anger, enjoy the moment or your life will pass you by and you'll have nothing but regrets and wrinkles," she said with a laugh. "Gees, that was a bit profound. I didn't know I was that deep," she laughed again making her friend laugh, too.

"Still, you don't think that men suck?"

"For now and for me, I can't just write them all off like that with just two words," said Christine with a shrug. "After a lifetime of dating the wrong man over and again, I'd need many more words than that to define men and my dating experiences," she said with a laugh. "Too many of them are shallow, insensitive, dumb, cheap, perverted, lazy womanizers, and that's just the good ones," she said laughing. "There, that covers it better than just saying that men suck and most of them do. Still, there are some good ones still out there. We just need to find them. Just as you are, I'm a sucker for a good looking, kind, and sensitive man."

"Why? Why are we such saps to be used and abused for sex, when it comes to men? I'm tired of going from one relationship to another and jumping from one bed to another. I need a real man, one who will accept me for who I am and love me forever, instead of men just looking for a blowjob."

Susan looked at her friend wondering why two women who looked as good and were as hot were alone and without a man on Valentine's Day. It didn't make any sense. There was never any logical formula, when trying to understand men, love, and relationships.

"Well, first of all, Susan. Look in the mirror. We're both good looking and because of our beauty and hot bodies, we're targets for men, instead of potential marriage partners," said Christine saying what Susan was just thinking. "We attract Mr. Wrong, instead of Mr. Right."

"I don't know, Christine, when I look at myself in the mirror now, I just see a loser. I don't know what the answer is."

"Oh, stop. Don't be so down on yourself. It's not you. It's them," she said looking at her friend. "Maybe the good men, the men who aren't players, are intimidated by us, afraid we'd reject him, or just lack what it takes to romance us. I think that Mr. Right is afraid to approach us. We'd be better off if we looked more average and less sexy," she said with a laugh. "We need to play down our good looks and sex appeal in order to attract Mr. Right," she said with a laugh.

"Even when we find someone special, someone who we think is a good guy, you'd think, after a while, we could see through their lies, before they have us naked and in bed, our point of no return and their point of good-bye," said Susan.

"That's because we just don't fall for their lines, Susan, we fall for their sad stories and they all have one. The sad story turns off our bullshit meter and that's when we're ripe to fall for the same, old lines and same, old song sung by a different singer, in a different key, with a different tune, and a different name, while believing that he's different and not like all the others, when he is. Women are just saps and suckers."

"Well, I'm done with men. I really am," said Susan looking as if she was about to cry.

"Sorry, Sue, but I like cocks too much to swear off men. Just show me a good looking muscular man wearing a half unbuttoned blue striped shirt outside his pants with his shirt sleeves rolled up to exposed his hairy forearms and I'm his," said Christine with a laugh.

"For sure, muscular men and cocks have their merits, but a buff body does it for me, too. You'll never see me with a short, fat, bald man, that is, unless he's a billionaire and ready to die. If only we could have a cock without the man," she said with a laugh. "I know, a dildo. Dildos are the perfect men and, just like men, they come in different sizes, shapes, and colors," said Susan with another laugh.

"You may be on to something. The dildo could possibly be the perfect man. They don't say dumb things at a party to embarrass you. They don't drink beer. They never leave the toilet seat up and except for spelunking, they hate sports."

"Spelunking? What's that?"

"Exploring caves," she said pointing to her pussy and laughing.

"I can't believe you fell for another married man again. Seriously, Chris, you should have known, when he told you that he couldn't take you to his house because of his roommate. You should have known his roommate was a woman, his wife named Michelle, and not a man named Michael. And I'm sorry for ragging on you now, but I wanted to say something to you before, but you were so in love with this guy and so upset when he dumped you."

"I know and I agree with you, Susan. You're right. I should have known, but it doesn't make me feel any better, it makes me feel worse, when you tell me that I should have known. I trusted him enough and was in love with him enough to believe him at his word."

"I'm sorry, Christine."

"Just like you, Susan, I'm tired of men not committing. I'm tired of cheap men disappearing before Christmas, birthdays, and Valentine's Day. I'm tired of cheating married men, and lying men that are nothing but players, too" she said, while raising her empty coffee mug, as if toasting her friend. "You're right. Men suck!"

"Yeah, well, what else can we do for Valentine's Day, if we don't have a man in our lives to love? A day that makes us feel even worse, when we don't have someone in our lives to love, this holiday is just for lovers."

"I know, we can turn lesbian." said Christine with a laugh.

"Lesbian? I don't know. I'd have to think about that. To be honest, rather than being alone, turning lesbian is starting to appeal to me."

"In the meantime, so that it doesn't go to waste, we can drink this champagne that I bought for Michael. It should be ready. I stuck it in ice this morning," she said reaching for and opening a bottle of champagne for their private Valentine's Day celebration and pouring a glass for her and her friend.

"I've tried everything else," said Susan. "Long term relationships, one night stands, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, and circle jerks, why not try lesbianism?"

"When did you have a threesome, foursome, gangbang, and a circle jerk," said Christine looking at her friend with shocked disapproval.

"I haven't, but it sounded good to say," she giggled.

"So, tell me, I imagine if we were to turn lesbian, being that we're best friends, we'd make the perfect lovers for one another."

"Probably you're right," said Susan with a laugh. "Are you any good in bed?"

"I've never had any complaints."

"Well, that's good enough for me."

"Which one do you want to be, the man or the woman?" Christine looked at her friend and laugh.

"I'll be the woman first and then you can be the woman, next," said Susan returning her laugh.

"I'm glad we decided to celebrate Valentine's together," said Christine. "At least the champagne won't go to waste. Cheers."

"I can't believe he broke up with you the day before Valentine's day. He's such an asshole," said Susan shaking her head.

"I don't know which is worse, Michael breaking up with me the day before Valentine's Day, George breaking up with you the day before Christmas, or finding out Michael is married, when I called his house and talked to his roommate, Michael, who turned out to be his wife, Michelle," she said with a laugh. "I'm sure I'm having a better Valentine's here with you than he's having now with his wife," said Christine sipping her champagne.

"I can laugh about it now," said Susan, "but I was devastated, then, when George said he wanted to end our relationship. I really thought he was going to buy me a ring for Christmas. I cried for a week and was drunk for two weeks. That was the longest that I pined over a man."

"I know. You went through an entire box of Kleenix, before we both got shitfaced."

"Which is what we should do now," said Susan reaching for the champagne bottle to refill her glass. "Let's get shitfaced. Getting drunk when a man dumps us can be our new tradition. Cheers," she said touching Christine's glass with her glass and both of them taking long sips of Champagne. "Only, after being with so many men who can't commit, we'll be drunk all the time," said Susan.

"I think it may be the phobia that men have with rings, called engagement ring phobia. I bet that if they did a study most men breakup between Christmas and Valentine's Day more than any other time of the year," said Christine in her most scientific voice and inflection. "Birthdays are probably next, so they don't have to bother buying the woman a birthday gift. And if you're birthday falls between Christmas and Valentine's Day, you're fucked," she said laughing and they both started laughing.

"You may be onto something, Christine, otherwise they'd break up with us after Christmas, after Valentine's Day, and after our birthdays. Just as you thought that Jim was going to give you a ring for Valentine's Day, I thought George was going to give me a ring for Christmas, too. Now here we are alone, horny, sexually frustrated, and getting shitfaced, while talking about spelunking," said Susan laughing loud enough to make Christine fall over laughing.

"So what do you think?" Giving her a look that undressed her with her eyes, Christine gave Susan a wink.

"Christine, you just gave me the eye," said Susan gathering her blouse around her neck. "You just undressed me with your stare. I feel naked," she said laughing. "Oh, my God, you're such a pig," she said laughing.

"Do you wanna make out? I can pretend that you're Michael and you can pretend that I'm George. What do you think?"

"I'll have you know," said Susan already slurring her words, "that I don't just make out with anyone. I need to ask you a question first to ascertain your ability to make out. Are you a good kisser?"

"Well, I've never had a complaint from a man before. Then, again, I've never kissed a woman."

"Me neither," said Susan.

"I guess I like you enough as a friend, a best friend, that I could kiss you, Sue, but I don't know if I could make out with you. I'd have to be really drunk to do that."

"Well, I'm horny enough to get drunk enough to have lesbian sex," said Susan with a laugh that made Christine laugh, too.

"Hmm, role playing, actually, that would be kind of fun to pretend we're guys, wouldn't it?"

"Only, guys don't know what women want. They think by groping us for five minutes that's enough to get us turned on to blow them," said Susan with another laugh that made Christine laugh, too. "What kind of kisser was Michael?"

"Oh, he was okay."

"George really like my tits," said Susan. "When he wasn't sucking them, he was always feeling them or talking about them. I swear if I could take my tits off and give them to him, he'd be happy not to deal with the rest of me."

"You do have nice tits, Susan," said Christine reaching over and copping a feel of her friend's tit. "I wish I had a C cup, instead of a B cup," she said looking down and cupping her breast. "Michael could care less about tits. He was more of an ass guy. He really liked my ass. Yeah, Michael was an ass and leg man and it's a good thing that I have both."

"You do have a nice ass, Christine. I wish I had your ass."

"Really? I think you have a nice ass and you have nice legs," said Christine. Susan stood and turned her ass to her friend. "Do you really think that I have a nice ass?"

"Oh, yeah," said Christine. "Your ass is hot, so round and shapely, and so firm," she said giving her friend's ass a feel, a squeeze, and a slap. "Any man would hit that ass."

"Hey, you can't spank me, unless you're buying me dinner," said Susan with a laugh.

"Actually, I am buying you dinner. I made shrimp scampi," said Christine with a laugh.

"I love shrimp scampi, but it gives me garlic breath."

"It doesn't matter, we'll both have garlic breath eating shrimp scampi. We still can make out," said Christine laughing.

"Are you serious about really making out?"

"Sure, why not, Susan? What's the big deal? I'm horny, too. Besides, it's Valentine's Day and people are supposed to make out on Valentine's Day."

"Oh, I don't know, Christine. It would be weird making out with you, making out with a woman, instead of a making out with a guy, especially on Valentine's Day. Besides, I don't want to start something I can't finish."

"Finish? What do you mean?"

"I mean, we'd end up being even more sexually frustrated than when we started. I could kiss you, make out with you, feel your ass and tits, even suck your nipples, no doubt, but I don't think I could go down on you."

"You've never gone down on a woman before?"

"No, never," said Susan looking at her friend with curiosity. "Why? Have you?"

"Actually, I lied about not having kissed a woman. I had sex with my roommate in college. We were both drunk and so high that we started kissing. Then, one thing led to another and--"

"No shit. You licked her pussy?

"I sure did. Numerous times and she ate me, too."

"Wow," said Susan. "What's it like?"

"Well, if you're drunk enough and sexually frustrated enough, a pussy will do in a pinch, when you don't have a cock to screw," she said laughing.

"Gees, I don't know, Christine. That's a big step for me. I've never been with another woman. I've never even been attracted to another woman."

"So, tell me, I'm curious about your pussy," said Christine. "Are you shaved, bushy, or trimmed."

"I'm trimmed," said Susan pulling open her pants enough for Christine to see her pubic hair. "But after George broke up with me, I haven't mowed the grass in a while. So, I'm probably bushy by now. How about you?"

"I'm shaved."

"Really? I'd never put a razor there. I'd be afraid of cutting something off that I'll really need later, like those evil husbands did to their African wives, so that they wouldn't have any pleasure in cheating on them."

"Eww. I don't use a razor," said Christine. "I wax."

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"Like Hell, but you get used to it. It's much worse the first few times you go to have it done."

"What's it like being shaved down there?"

Christine unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. Then, pulling her panties forward she invited her friend to feel.

"Go ahead feel me. Touch me, baby. Make me cum," she said with a laugh.

"Wow. It's so smooth," said Susan running her hand the full length of her friend's pussy. "It feels like a baby's ass."

"I'll shave you, if you want."

"Really? Gees, I don't know, Christine."

"Drink your champagne. The alcohol will give you the courage you need for me to shave your pussy."

"I don't know if I want you holding a razor over my really good parts, after you've been drinking."

"Okay, suit yourself."

"Maybe tomorrow, after we sober up," said Susan with a laugh, while looking at her friend with an adventurous expression. "What the Hell? Let's do it. I'm drunk enough to do it," she said looking at her friend and giggling. "Otherwise, I'll chicken out and change my mind."

Susan gulped down her champagne and then preceded to remove her pants and panties.

"You really do have such a hot ass, Susan," said Christine standing up and cupping Susan's ass cheek in her hand. "Let's go in the bathroom," said Christine. She turned on the light. "Gees, Susan, you have a forest down there."

"It's the Italian in me. I have hair on my arms, too, that I absolutely hate. I'm glad I'm a blonde. If I had dark hair like my cousins, I'd look like a monkey," she said with a laugh.

Christine started working on her friend. First she used a razor, then she used an electric shaver. When she finished, still kneeling in front of her, she slowly ran her hand across Susan's pussy.

"It's so smooth, Sue."

"Gees, Christine."

"What? Did I miss a spot?"

"No, you gave me goose bumps, when you ran your hand across my pussy like that. It's been a while for me and I'm so very--"

"What? You mean like this?" This time, she wiggled Susan's clit, before inserting a finger, while giving her clit another wiggle.

"Oh, my God. Gees, Christine, if you do that again, I swear, you'll have to eat me, I'm so frigging horny."

Placing her hands on Susan's naked ass, Christine pulled her friend forward, while leaning forward. She looked up at Susan watching her and then she licked her friend, while exploring her with her fingers.

"No, don't, please," said Susan. "This is so wrong, isn't it?"

"No one needs to know what we do behind closed doors, Susan," said Christine continuing to eat and finger her friend's pussy.

Christine stood to meet Susan's lips and gave her a deep, wet kiss, while fondling her breasts through her clothes.

Susan returned her kiss and the women continued their kissing on Christine's bed with each stripping off the others clothes.

"Oh, fuck, Christine. Eat me. Eat my pussy. Lick me. I so need to cum. Make me cum Christine. Please make me cum. I'm so horny."

Christine buried her face in Susan's pussy licking her and finger fucking her, while reaching up with her free hand to finger her nipple.

"After I make you cum, are you going to return the favor?"