Her Bully

We turned off the television after a while and got under the covers. I turned onto my right side, facing away from Angie, but then I normally sleep on my right side. I was starting to get settled in when Angie spoke.

"I know you don't want to be intimate -- not with me anyhow. But could you turn on your other side and just hold me?"

"I don't know if we should do that."

"Miri, I won't push it -- I promise."

I turned onto my left side facing her. She snuggled back against me so I was effectively spooning her. She took my hand and put it on her tummy. Her top was a little short, so my hand was resting on her bare skin. I wondered about this all -- where she wanted it to go. I was concerned because in school since I didn't date boys, Angela and others teased me about being lesbian.

They would make remarks about how they needed to stay away from me in the showers, and even in the locker room, since they said I might accost them. Occasionally, they would do a mock flirtation with me, as though they were interested in me romantically. I knew they were not serious and always ignored them.

After all that, and after some of her actions and comments I wondered if she wanted to be intimate with me or if this was just more of what happened in school. If I responded positively, would she all of a sudden back off, say that wasn't what she meant, and revert to ostracizing me over my attraction to women. We had too much bad history, and I was still not trusting.

If Angie and I were not coworkers and I didn't have a history with her, I might well be tempted to make love to her. There was no doubt that she was cute and sexy, and could be quite sweet, but how could I ever trust her? Angie put her hand over mine on her tummy and had a contented sigh as she drifted off to sleep.

I found myself torn between a deep mistrust, based on all her years in school, and the comfort of holding someone who said she wanted to be held. I had a myriad of conflicting thoughts running through my head as I finally fell asleep. To be honest, I really did like holding her like this, and part of me said that I'd love kissing her and even getting more intimate. I just worried about it.

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When I woke up in the morning, I was still spooning her and her hand was still on top of my hand, but now my hand was cupping her boob. I was even more torn. Her titty felt warm, soft, and quite inviting. I could feel a hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Part of me wanted so much to stroke that nipple, and yet I knew I shouldn't do that.

Angie was my coworker, and she had also been my bully. Neither of those made her the kind of woman that I wanted for my lover, even though my libido said I ought to. She had hold of my hand, and it was hard for me to pull it free. Beyond that, part of me didn't want to pull it free. Part of me wanted to turn her on her back and play with one nipple as I suckled on the other.

As I lay there, with my emotions in turmoil, Angie awoke, turned over to face me, still holding my hand and then spoke.

"Generally when someone plays with my titties, I at least get a kiss."

I was frozen in place as she smiled, then leaned forward and kissed me. My mind might not have been wholly on board, but my body returned the kiss, albeit not with as much passions as I might ordinarily have. She let go of my hand, got up, and went in the bathroom. I heard the shower running, and got out of bed and shook off everything.

She came out of the bathroom, but with no towel wrapped around her, simply nude. I gaped at her, then rushed in to shower. My hands were shaking as I showered. I wasn't sure what to make of all this. Angie was about as brazen as possible. I wondered if she had moved my hand to her boob during the night. It was either that or I'd done it unconsciously. I wasn't sure which was worse.

I came out with a towel wrapped around me. Angie was in bra and panties, but hadn't put on any other clothes. She went in the bathroom to do hair and makeup as I quickly dressed, got my laptop and rushed down to breakfast. As usual I checked email and updated my company on our progress. I just had a light breakfast and was eating it as Angie showed up.

She seemed all business-like as we ate and talked over our plans for the day. We drove to the client and got to work. Any time there were other people around, Angie was completely proper. If she and I were alone behind closed doors, she'd become flirty. Given the work and how she was acting, I tended to keep the door to our little office open most of the time.

More than once, she looked at the open door, and if no one else was in sight, gave me an enigmatic smile, sometimes licking her lips as she did. She returned to wearing a sheer negligee to bed, that night but plaintively asked me to cuddle her again. Need I even bother mentioning that when I woke up, my hand was on her boob again.

We continued to make good progress on our project, though it still looked like it would take at least three weeks. Then the client added some additional requirements that made it likely to push out to four weeks. Of course they wanted us on site for those four weeks. Given what was happening with Angie, I wondered what would happen by the end of four weeks.

The convention that had packed out the hotel ended, but when I asked, I was told that there was another convention coming in right on its heels, and it would be impossible to get an extra room. Angie would no doubt protest having us in separate rooms, but I checked anyhow, not that it helped in the least.

By Friday evening, Angie said we had a weekend, so we might as well enjoy our down time. My idea of enjoying it was to sit in the hotel room and read or work puzzles, but that was not at all what Angie had in mind. I was perfectly happy to let her have the car and go off to whatever fun she wanted, but she insisted that I join in as well.

She said we needed a ride share so we could drink without worrying. For my part, I tended not to drink enough to keep me from driving safely, but she said the police were super tough on drinking and driving, and might cite me even for a drink or two. I gave in and Angie dressed very sexy, while I wore slacks and a nice shirt. So call me a bit of a butch -- whatever.

She had obviously done some research and gave the driver an address to go to. The driver, who was female, gave us a smirky smile, and took us there, though it took almost thirty minutes to get there. We arrived at a nondescript building and went to the door where we entered. It was a nightclub, but nearly everyone there was female.

Angie dragged me over to get a drink. I tend towards beer or wine and ordered a nice beer while Angie ordered a fruity mixed drink. She took a sip, then invited me to take a sip. It burned and I think there was far more alcohol than fruit juice. She drank it pretty quickly, then wanted to dance -- with me, obviously. We went out on the dance floor, where all the other couples were female only.

Angie moved in a sinuous and sexy manner through a fast dance, when a slow number came on. Before I realized it, she had wrapped herself around me. There was no chance of keeping any sort of distance -- she was almost plastered to me. As we danced, she ground herself against me and rubbed my ass. In spite of my misgivings, I could not help but be aroused.

I've had sex that was not s intense as that dance with Angie. We finished the dance and she kissed me and that kiss left me panting. We went back and I had half a beer left and downed it straight away. Angie ordered another round for us and we both drank our drinks quickly. She got me back out on the dance floor where she was so enticing that the only way she could have been more so was to strip.

After several hours of drinking and dancing we were not only quite drunk but also dripping with sweat. She called a ride share to take us back to our hotel. It ended up being the same woman who had driven us earlier. As we sat in the back seat, Angie had her legs across my lap and was almost glued to me, while kissing me like I'd never been kissed before.

Once back at the hotel, we careened to our room, and as soon as the door was shut and locked, Angie had removed her dress. She was not wearing bra of panties, so I had Angie quite nude before me. My head was still swimming as she came over to me and began kissing me while unbuttoning my shirt. She quickly got that off me and pulled off the sports bra I was wearing.

I was nude to the waist, with a naked Angie kissing me and rubbing her breasts up against mine. As she did that, she unbuttoned and unzipped my slacks, letting them fall to the floor. She then pulled down my boyshort panties. She had me step out of them then led me to the bed where she laid down and spread her legs about as wide as they'd go.

She had held onto my hand and after she lay down, she pulled me to her. Part of me still said I shouldn't do this, but the part of me that wanted it was quite in control. I lay down half on her as I kissed her and began to stroke one of her luscious c-cup boobies. She put one had at the back of my head pulling me tight to her, while her other hand was fondling my ass.

I don't know how long we kissed -- time was immaterial. We kissed until I thought our lips would be raw, then she gently pushed me down her body. I kissed my way down her neck and her chest until I reached her love mounds. I'd been caressing her right one, so I began to fondle her left one while kissing her right one.

I've had the pleasure of knowing a few titties in my brief life, but there was something about Angie's breasts that was singularly enticing. I kissed every millimeter of the one before zeroing in on her nipple which seemed more than ready for the attention. I began by kissing it, then suckled at it, before nipping it lightly. Angie moaned with pleasure and both her hands held my hair tightly in their grip.

That nipple was as hard as any I'd ever had the pleasure of sucking on, and Angie seemed to appreciate my ministrations. After a while, as much as I enjoyed pleasuring that breast, I knew I had to give more attention to its mate. I shifted over to begin kissing her left tit, while returning to caressing the right one. I could feel her trying to arch her back under me, and lifted up on my torso to let her.

I think she had a mini orgasm just from my attention to her mammaries. I finally left them to kiss my way down her body to the center of her being. I could smell her aroma which was unquestionably feminine but unlike the other women I'd been with. By this time she was so wet she was almost dripping. She had shaved bare but I blew on her nether parts, to tease her.

She moaned and tried to get her pussy closer to my mouth. Her labia were red and already beginning to spread as I gave a first lick up the center of her quim. She quickly wrapped her legs around my shoulders and tried to plaster her snatch to my mouth. I was more than happy to delve ever deeper into her private areas -- though now they were quite open to me.

I began to lick her as though my very life depended on it and her juices which flowed freely were intoxicating. I was already drunk, but this was a different sort of intoxication, and one I hoped to become regularly acquainted with. I got my tongue in her as far as I could, and her clit began to peek out from the top of her slit.

I took it between my lips to lick and suck on it and Angie shrieked and arched her back more than I even knew a person could. She relaxed and let it down, but moaned so loud I thought they'd hear it on the whole floor of that hotel. As I paid homage to her clit, I snuck a finger into her. I began to move it in and out and she seemed almost to be trying to fuck my face and finger.

I added a second finger and was plunging them as deep into her as they'd go, when her cunt grabbed my fingers and she seemed almost to have a seizure under me. As that passed, she let her legs fall limply to the bed and I was released from my willing imprisonment. She seemed quite out of it as I kissed my way back up her body, renewing my acquaintance with her lovely boobs.

When I reached her face and began to kiss her lips again, she seemed to return to this world and almost violently began to kiss me back. Pretty soon she flipped me to lie beside her on the bed, then with an almost feral look, climbed on me and kissed me as fiercely as I'd ever been kissed in my life. I was starting to pant as she kissed her way down to my titties.

While Angie was easily a c-cup, I was closer to a small b-cup. That didn't seem to deter Angie and I almost felt like she was going to devour my boobs. It felt wonderful and even though I'd had other lovers pay homage to my love mounds, she seemed to find them almost uniquely appealing. I almost felt like she expected to get milk out of my boobies.

She didn't manage that, but had me moaning and almost unable to catch my breath as she kissed, caressed, and suckled on my breasts. I suppose I was not as vocal as Angie, but my moans should have told her that I was quite enjoying this. Clearly, it had been too long since I'd had a woman make love to be, but Angie seemed to be trying to make up for what I skipped.

The more Angie pleasured my boobs, the more sensitive they seemed to become. Every touch, every kiss, every suck on them became ever more intense. About the time I thought I couldn't take any more, she moved down to my quim. She began to lick me as though my slit was the greatest lollypop she'd ever had. She was almost like a machine licking constantly and ever harder.

Between tongue, lips, and fingers I could not even keep track of what she was doing. All I knew was that she had my body on fire. When it hit me, I knew nothing except that my body was in ecstasy. I may have blacked out, all I knew was the pleasure rolling over me. When I came back to earth, Angie was lying on me and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before.

We kissed and caressed each other for the longest time, before she rolled off to lie beside me on the bed. She reached out to stroke my boob and frankly I didn't know what to make of it all. This was the same person who'd been my bully in school and was now my coworker. As pretty as she might be, neither of those were things I thought I wanted to be closer to.

"Well, Mireille, I'm glad I finally broke through that shell of yours."

She had actually pronounced my name correctly, which in itself amazed me. I lay there as she continued.

"When we were in school, I knew you liked girls, but there was no way I could do anything and still stay in with the popular girls."

"I don't understand, Angie."

"You were smart and you never tried to be anything than what you were, even when everyone seemed to razz you for it."

"I'm me -- that's all."

"I tried to be what everyone else thought I should be. And all the time, I wished I could be like you, but I didn't have the nerve."

"I'm sorry about that."

"It was the price of popularity, and I was popular. So I dated the guys everyone thought I should date, and did enough with them to keep them happy, but all the time, I wanted to lie in your arms. And I could see you wanted me, even as you hated how I treated you."

"So you've gotten what you want, Angela. Are you happy now?"

"I want more than a night. I want you to be mine."

"What do you mean?"

"What does it sound like, Mireille?"

"You can pronounce my name right."

"I could always pronounce it right. I took French, just like you did. I did that to pull your chain."

"And now?"

"I want you to care for me."

"I don't know."

"Give me a chance -- please."

"It's hard to believe you're serious.

"I really am sorry I was mean to you when we were younger. Just give me a chance to show you I care for you."

"I spent years getting over what happened then."

I began to cry. Angie was still lying on me and kissed me and wiped my tears. She rolled off me, then pulled me to her and hugged me. Maybe it was some combination or perhaps the contrast between the pain she'd caused me years ago versus the pleasure she'd just given me. It all seemed to come to a head that night and it came out in my tears.

She said soothing words, hugged me and expressed her sorrow at what she'd done to me. She stroked my back, wiped my tears and held me tight, telling me she really loved me but that she'd never been able to say that when we were younger. I fell asleep with her trying to comfort me. She was there even in my dreams, and I dreamed of the two of us getting married.

The sex we'd just had figured prominently in my dreams and even in my dreams I was torn between my pain and the pleasure of having Angie as a lover. In school, though I thought she was pretty, I never thought of her as a lover. I guess I was so fixated on her as my tormentor that getting affection from her was beyond what I could ever imagine.

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I woke up in the morning with my head pounding from a hangover. I was certainly not used to drinking that much and the combination of alcohol and sex had utterly drained my reserves. We were both naked and covered by a blanket and I was lying with my head on her shoulder and her arm around me. I woke up to her stroking my head sweetly.

"Good morning, Mireille, my love."

"Angie -- I don't know -- "

"Just relax. I know it must be a shock, but I do really care for you. Please give me a chance to prove that."

We sat up in bed and the covers fell off us, leaving our upper bodies bare. She sweetly kissed me and continued to stroke my head and my back, while hugging me to her. After a while, we each took some aspirin and took it with some water. Angie took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. She turned on the shower then gently led me into the shower with her.

Angie washed me, while kissing me and touching me tenderly. When she washed my boobs, I had flashbacks to last night when we made love. After she was done washing me, she had me wash her. It was the first time I'd touched her while sober and wide awake. She punctuated the washing by kissing me regularly.

I'd never showered with another person before -- not when there were any intimacies involved. As we rinsed off then dried each other, I was shocked at how that had altered my mental image of Angie. She was no longer my tormentor, nor merely my coworker, but now was truly my lover. Once dry we went back in the bedroom and sat on the bed with Angie holding me.

I dressed more masculine and in my few other relationships was always more butch. Now Angie was the one comforting me. This was quite a new and different feeling for me. What truly scared me was that I found I really did like it. I didn't want this to end, but to continue. My other lovers were nice, but I never felt there was more than just something fleeting.

With Angie, I wanted this to last. I wanted her to be my lover and was reveling in her touch and her affection. Maybe it was just endorphins gone mad, but it felt like love to me. When I looked at her my mind went from seeing my bully, to seeing my coworker, to seeing my lover. Who was she really? Who did I want her to be, and who did she really want to be.

After a while, we ordered some room service, then put on robes for when it was delivered. I had to basically eat light, since my stomach had not quite recovered from the night before. After we ate, we doffed our robes and sat together on the bed. It was hard for me to believe, even after last night that Angie was serious, and not just running some deeper sort of prank on me.

Sure, we had worked together for a few months, and now had even made love. I still couldn't shake the image of Angela as my bully. She swore to be that she wasn't that person any longer. She held me and kissed me and we made love again before she wanted us to go to dinner. We dressed and just went to the hotel restaurant again.