How It Started Pt. 04 - Morning after

My eyes usually need a few moments to focus on waking, but as I put my arm out and encountered a warm, smooth body next to me, they focussed pretty sharply.

My goodness! It had not been a dream, Miss Grace really was lying next to me, naked, as I was. I loved the scent of her and the bed, there was an intimacy about it, a closeness that is only possible, I would later learn, after a night where lovers have given themselves without reserve.

My face and hair, and hands, all smelt of Miss Grace. I had admired female teachers at my school, and had occasionally fantasised about them kissing me. Not once in all my occasional musings had I ever taken a lead; that was not me. But the idea that I would be lying between the thighs of anyone of them and licking her pussy until she orgasmed was, well, beyond my wildest dreams. That Saturday morning it became a lived reality. I did what instinct told me; I snuggled up to her back, feeling her hair in my face, and her arse against my mound. It was very heaven!

I must have dozed off, as the next thing I knew, she was facing me (which is what woke me up, her moving). She smelt of sex and passion spent. Her blue eyes, still partly cloudy with sleep looked at me; her smile made me feel good.

"So, Pixie, how was it? Was it your first time, little one?"

I melted.

I admitted I'd done "things" with another girl at school and then with Tay, but that she was my first adult woman.

"I like being your first, Pixie. I thought you might be gay, but not that you might be one of us."

I expressed my puzzlement.

"It was the way you look adoringly at the Captain of Rugby, Pixie, it's not as though you are a sporty girl, so, for those of us who know the signs, the reason was pretty clear. But most of us just want a lover and to get on with it, but some of us, Pixie, well some of us want something more."

She kissed me sweetly and stroked my hair.

"You are an adorable little thing, Pixie, but you clearly share my taste for a bit of rough."

I looked puzzled.

She kissed me again.

"Most of us, Pixie, like women from our own backgrounds, but some, I am one and you another, have a fascination with the lower classes and the directness and lack of sophistication. God isn't Tay just so hot! We are used to privilege and power and being in charge - it's just such a relief to give it all up to some common girl who knows what she wants and will take you when she wants. Speaking of which...."

She pulled me between her breasts. It felt good; no it felt like home.

In no time my lips had found a nipple to latch onto, and loving that feeling as it hardened, I lavished all my attention on it, sucking harder until it was drawn out and my tongue could swirl around it. The sounds Miss Grace was making aroused me and told me she, too, was aroused.

That knowledge that I could arouse her in this way surged through me like a super-power. With a boldness I had not even suspected I possessed, my left hand began to fondle and caress her other breast. I pinched and pulled the hard nipple there, as I teased the other with my lips and tongue.

She was moaning and writhing by then. Suddenly she pushed me down between her thighs, grabbing her own tits.

I knew what to do now.

Her pussy was, like mine, thin outer lips and trim inner ones, not like Tay's droopy inner lips. It was neat and smooth - and very wet and rather smelly - and I loved it all the more for that.

The feel of her wetness against my face, the writhing of her body, the moans coming from her, all made my own body want to imitate hers. There are, I know, women who insist that they will not eat "early morning pussy", but, and maybe it is the remembrance of things part, I love it. Broadening out my tongue as I peeled her lips back, I did little half-licks and made her whimper, until, as I flicked her clit, with short, pressing licks, she moaned louder. I felt my face pressed into her and managed to get my tongue inside her.

I have envied women with long tongues, as I should love to be able to press in further, but just letting her use my face was the next best thing. I was having trouble breathing at times when she ground herself hard, but my nose, rubbing against her clit made her quiver. I felt the spasms beginning and felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she came to a shuddering orgasm on my face. The sense of achievement was intensified by the knowledge I had pleased her.

But any hope of a cuddle was disappointed, as I felt her move, and the duvet being flung back.

"Sorry Pixie, need to pee - that was wonderful!"

And with that, Miss Grace bolted for the door. The sight of her naked backside made me long for more.

As Tay said to me later:

"Of all the things I expected on a Saturday morning, the sight of Francie's tits bouncing as she ran to the bog wasn't one of them!"

But she came back and climbed back into bed.

Kissing me, she said:

"Sorry darling, but you took me by surprise!"

Looking at her, I smiled back:

"Well, Miss, I am glad you liked it."

"Liked it? Pixie, you are a great pussy-licker. Either you are a right little tart at school, or a natural? I am guessing the latter."

"Guess so Miss."

She snuggled me to her.

I could hear her heart beating as I nuzzled into her soft breast. I loved it. I loved the closeness, the intimacy, the sense of being one, and the warmth of her body against mine.

"What are your limits, Pixie?"

I could not attach a meaning to her words, and told her so.

"Oh my little one, you really are a little virgin aren't you?"

I suddenly felt small and naive and a bit lost.

"Yes, Miss."

"Well, my little one, we all draw the line in different places in terms of what we will do in bed - and out of it."

"Like what, Miss?" I asked.

"Okay little one, well as I walked back from the bathroom I wondered it I had really wiped properly, which led me to think I'd like you to check. But then I thought that not everyone enjoys that. There's other stuff too Pixie. Some women like to be tied up, some like physical punishment going from spanking all the way to whipping. Some even like anal sex."

"But Miss," I said, trying to sound at least a bit sophisticated, "I've been told that only men like that?"

She laughed.

"Oh Pixie! Whoever told you that was a little out of touch with her own body. Sure, there are some vanilla girls think that, but well-lubricated, getting it up the arse can be fun. Mind you, don't try it dry. I'd guess some man had tried it on her. Often happens with girls your age - keeping your virginity intact, but giving the man an orgasm - don't let one do that!"

My mind was now thoroughly boggled.

"Oh Miss, I have no intention of allowing a man anywhere near me in that way. That's a big limit Miss. But, erm," and I could feel myself blush, "I wouldn't mind testing the other thing?"

"What other thing, Pixie, anal sex?"

"Maybe that too Miss, but I was thinking of cleaning your pussy."

She ruffled my hair.

"You sure, early morning pee is quite salty and pungent sometimes."

I giggled.

"Let me be the judge."

With that I slid back down her body.

She was correct. It was smelly. I could only imagine what it would have been like if she had not been trimmed down there (I did later find out, and the answer is that if you like licking pissy pussy, it is yummy), but from the moment my tongue slid up her slit, I loved it. It was a little salty, and there was a taste of lemon or something like that, a bitter taste anyway. But far from being deterred, I was encouraged. So much so that half an hour later she orgasmed on my face a second time.

This time I got my cuddle.

I woke to find her gone and the sun streaming through the windows.

Tay was shaking my shoulder with one hand and came bearing a cup of tea in the other.

"Hey luv, have a cuppa. Francie's in the shower. She said you're the best fuckin' cunt muncher she ever had. Good girl!"

Tay, wearing only a long tee shirt, her big nipples threatening to poke through the thin fabric, her hair in disarray, was one of the sexiest things going. She saw the look on my face.

"Pix, you're fuckin' insatiable. Helen's already brought me off twice, but what the fuck?"

Next thing I knew, she was straddling my face, her pussy pressing against my mouth and nose.

I gripped her well-padded arse, pulling her down as I tried to lift my neck - maximum friction. That my face was wet with Miss Grace's juices, and that Tay's pussy bore clear signs, as well as smells, of Helen's earlier ministrations, I was more aroused than ever. It was as well that Helen's arse was pressed against my nose as she was facing my pussy.

She rode me hard, but being Tay, she also began rubbing my, by now, dripping pussy.

We were in that position when I heard Miss Grace's voice, which sent a jolt of erotic electricity through me.

"Tay, am I not enough for you, or is Pixie just a little slut?"

There was, I later realised (when my head had cleared) a touch of mirth, as well as envy, in her voice, but what struck home was that she had called me a "slut".

All my life I had been a "good girl."

My older sister was, who was at uni, was a bit of a slut, but in an upper-class way, working her way through "eligible" bachelors in the hope of finding one whose cock was as big as his ample wallet (being my sister, she found one, of course she did, she could fall into manure and come up smelling of rose petals) but me, I was a little nerd, indeed almost the definitional example. Now my teacher was commending me for being a slut. I would at least be a "good" slut!

Tay was already excited. Her pussy was swollen and thick with goo. As she rubbed my pussy I felt myself beginning to lose it.

"Tay, ask the slut to beg for her orgasm."

Tay had clearly looked puzzled, as she said later:

"What is it with you posh birds, more fucking kinks than a bent bumper in a pile up?"

"Tay, just do it, see the result!"

Lifting her arse and pussy, she said:

"Ask to cum you slut!"

I almost couldn't. My brain seemed to have been short-circuited by the power of the emotions unleashed. I could not think properly, was losing the power, as well as the ability to breathe.

"Tay, Tay can I have, ohhh can I cum, please Tay!"

Begging my working-class lover for an orgasm did it. I lost it. I heard her say cum and a voice, mine cry:

"Cummiessssss, need fuckkkkkking cummieeeesss!"

(Well that's the best written equivalent of the babble that I emitted as I screamed into her pussy).

As I came, so did Tay.

I ended with her arse cheeks pressed into my chin, as her face nestled into my pussy. Oh it was a moment of sheer pleasure!

"Francie, what the fuck, these girls are the best! Give us a kiss."

I heard Helen kissing Miss Grace. I wanted to open my eyes to see it, but not as much as I wanted to live in that moment.

I was glad that Miss Grace's house had two showers and that one was a power shower.

I swiftly gulped my, by now, cold tea and, not feeling in the slightest bit self-conscious surrounded by such gorgeous women in various stages of undress, took myself to the shower.

As the water cascaded over me, I took the shower head and made sure my pussy was clean - only to find that the pressure of the water on my clit made me want to rub myself. Somehow I controlled the urge. My sluttiness was, I realised, not focussed in me, but on giving pleasure to my lovers.

I pondered things.

I had loved being there. Miss Grace and Helen were women, not late adolescent girls, and Tay, well Tay was different: vibrant, devil-may-care and charismatic. As Miss Grace said to me later:

"How the fuck can women like us resist her? She's so fucking hot Pixie. She doesn't care who we are or what we are, she just wants us all to have pleasure."

My American friends never quite get the class thing we English have, but Miss Grace got it right. We are used to privilege and power, but also to buttoning ourselves up, stiff upper lip and all that. Girls like Tay will never have power or privilege, but her free spirit was something we did not have. Submitting to her was somehow both wrong - a reversal of the natural order - and liberating.

As I exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, I wondered what on earth the rest of the day would bring. But first was the question of what I would wear. Tay had anticipated me, as she was in the bedroom.

"No walk of shame for us, little one, I keep a stash of stuff here, there's knickers here will fit you, and this dress will cover the essentials."

I looked at her.

"Walk of shame?"

"Oh luv, you really are green aren't you? Think how you'd feel walking back wearing the slut-wear we were in last night - assuming you can find your knickers!"

She was right, of course.

Showered and dressed in a pair of cotton knickers and a nice, if rather garish dress (rose patterns, really, I ask you?), I felt a little more like the old Pixie. But catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror with my pink pixie-cut, I reflected that appearances might be deceptive and looked forward to the day ahead.