There were five of us in the room, each of us sexy in their own way. Some of us had large breasts, some of us smaller. One of the girls had hardly any at all, and she was the sexiest one there.
Maybe because she was naked on the couch having her pussy eaten. Her name was Tara, and she was pulling the other girl into her perfectly trimmed mound and thrusting at her mouth hard. She grunted and rubbed her nipples, rushing towards her orgasm.
I had already flung my black thongs into to the corner and was reclining against a chair, gently rubbing my own pussy that was wet with anticipation. None of us had prepared for this; a slumber party at Ashley's and Truth or Dare.
Having her pussy eaten was Tara's dare. The lucky girl eating it was a volunteer. I saw her slip a few fingers in Tara's pussy and begin thrusting. Tara moaned her encouragement. I reached down and rubbed my clit, spreading my lips wide and dipping into my pussy. Marie, the only girl who had yet to take her panties off was watching so I turned my pussy towards her and kept at it.
I couldn't take her looking at me anymore and I crawled to her, reaching out and grabbing her white cotton panties and –
Dammit! I lost my concentration!
I let the machine answer the phone and got up from my bed and wandered into the office, intent on finding something sultry so that I don't have to think.
Too bad I'm so damn picky.
It needs to be perfect.
Not too over done, not too cliché.
It's not often that I browse the selections, looking for credible submissions to inspire me, and when I do, my search often becomes a quest or a crusade to find that perfect storyteller, the one who gives me the original images that fill up my head, makes we want to...
The weather is deteriorating and I ignore the predictions of increasing thunderstorm intensity and log on to start my search – from the index I choose Lesbian Sex. My favorite.
A thousand titles with the lesbian buzzwords of "High School" and "Sorority." Or the popular "first-time." A few "stewardess'," a couple "mom's" and "mother's," even a "sisters." Most of the titles have proper names in them, most of those names ending in the letter 'A' in an attempt to sound seductive and sexy like "Talia's Sultry Weekend" or "Anna Becomes a Slave."
Most involve a chance encounter, an innocent brush that leads to exploration and discovery. Or the two friends who dare each other and then realize that they've had a crush on each other their whole lives. I also like the seduction plot, the younger, innocent girl being taken advantage of by the more experienced lesbian (often bisexual) and then discovering that she liked it. Masturbation is a common instigator, too. Either the protagonist walks in on someone, is walked in on, or is aroused by secretly witnessing someone, etc.
Not without merit, but typical. I'm getting more aroused and want it bad and in my desperation, I let the website's story spinner choose one for me at random and I hope.
"Weekend of Desire." I hit the back button on my browser and start over. I read the title:
"A Vampire's Forgotten Lust."
Gothic is good and perfect for a gloomy night like tonight. I read on:
Her hair was like midnight, burning thin black lines across her pale undead flesh. Her breasts hung gently, their small size like the distant moon gleaming in the twilight of ancient rhythms.
What? I continue, much to my own dismay.
She steps out of the shadow that was partially obscuring her and I see her in all her ethereal glory. Her skin is like porcelain and bears no imperfection, except for the occasional blue vein that shows through. Her form is not even disrupted by the expected dark triangle of nether-hair, helpful to point the way to the sweet salvation of my insatiable lust. I look closer and her mons almost sways as she walks toward me, it glistens with anticipation of the fated union with my own gate of desire.
That's it. I press the back button and start my search over. I think I'll look without the computer helping. I sample a few others, turning them down for gross mutilations of the human language and the use of such non-sexy words as "cunny", "slash", and "sex." Talk about an irrational pet peeve. I actually read this sentence: "She moved her hand down and began to rub my sex." That almost killed my quest right there, but my own pleasure-seeking fervor was stronger than any grammatical error.
I search again.
"Jenna and Salina: More than friends?" Next.
"Barbara at the Beach." No.
"Lessons." Could be something here. Then I see the author's login name is JimmysGiantDong. Nothing worse than a guy trying to describe what two women do to each other while having sex. It is certainly within the realm of possibility that a man can have that type of understanding, but I would like more than the textual description of the last porno flick this guy saw.
I search again, eventually selecting "My First Day in College" because I need to; my body is demanding it. If there is a cliché that is guaranteed to make my day, it's the innocent realism of collegiate life in the dorm rooms, and the ever-present girl-talk-in-panties scene. I make myself comfortable and set my mouse to auto-scroll so I can enjoy the benefit of both hands.
The story begins:
State University is a busy place. The campus is teaming (sic) with life and activity and girls. You never thought that you would be here, in school to see such magnificent. (sic) You race to your room and your wet you can barely contain your orgasm as you ride up the elevator.
You flop down on you bed and jam four fingers in your twat, the squishing sound makes you come again and again.
That's it! I could handle the second-person perspective and even the dreadful spelling errors, but to think that any writer could assume that a sound emanating from a moistened vagina is enough to inspire an orgasm "again and again" is too much.
Perhaps I should write my own? Eroticist pleasure thyself? Too late now: I'm already in overdrive. I need to find something. The lights flicker and I wonder about my computer and the effects lightning will have on it. I shrug it off and continue my search.
"Kara's New Friend." Whatever. I'll read it anyway.
Her name was Tabitha, but I called her Tabby, because she was my little cat in so many ways. She liked to lick my pussy and keep it clean and she purred when she fingered my snatch.
We were a funny pair; she being beautiful and me being the typical dyke.
Dammit! I cannot possible enjoy a story where one of the main characters in a knuckle-dragging, jack-booted she-male. Sorry. Bless you, PhatGrrrl69, for filling someone else's fetish, but not mine.
I prepare to search again and there is a knock at my door. Probably a neighbor wanting a flashlight in case the power goes out. I put on a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt and walk to the door, hoping to hide any outward appearance of the night's activities. Impatiently, they knock again before I get there.
I open then door and am surprised by my visitor. She is a young woman, about my age but slightly taller with a build that suggests athletics of some sort. Her hair is darker than is should be, plastered to her head from the torrent of rain she must have walked through. Her make-up had run a bit, leaving her with "raccoon-eyes" that had started to expand down her face. I noticed that she did not have the benefit of a raincoat or jacket and the rain had soaked her completely. She shivered uncontrollably as she hugged herself to keep warm. I gamble and stole a glance at her breasts. They pressed unhindered against her shirt, their roundness a aesthetic compliment to their perkiness and the nipples easily creating tiny bulges against the thin material. The rain had made the white shirt almost see-through and her areolas were visible in the dim porch light. I was guessing that these were not her most favorable conditions, but the effect was still stunning.
"Hi," she said, her voice high-toned and musical. "Can I borrow your phone?"
"Of course," I responded, stepping back to let her in. "Let me get you a towel." I returned with the towels and handed them to her. She quickly wrapped one around her shoulders and used the other one to dry her hair.
"Thank you so much," she said. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"No bother," I replied. "You look like you could use the help. Would you like some coffee?"
"No, thanks. I'll just make a phone call and be on my way. I don't want to bother you too much."
I nodded and showed her the phone in the kitchen. She stood with her back to me as she made her call. I noticed that her pants hadn't fared to well in the elements and like her shirt, had become a second skin, easily revealing the shapely curve of her ass and the lines of her thong. She told the person on the other end of the phone where she was and then she looked like she got some bad news.
"Thanks for the phone," she said, almost sadly handing back the towel. I smiled to myself as I saw her nipples again. "I'm going to go wait for the tow truck by my car."
"What's the rush?" I asked. "It'll be awhile. The news said Burgess Road is flooded. That's the only way in."
She looked sad. "I know. That's what the towing service said. Maybe you could let me borrow a blanket…"
I almost snorted. "Of course not! You're not going anywhere, so you might as well kick off your boots and follow me to the bathroom. You can get out of those wet clothes and take a shower if you like. Follow me."
I led her to the bathroom and showed her where the towels were. I told her set her clothes outside the door and I'd get them dried. She thanked me again and turned around to undress. I smiled as I went to get her a robe.
I had just finished making hot chocolate when she stepped into the kitchen. Her mascara had been scrubbed off and she looked magnificent, almost magical. I could see that her skin was slightly dark, not from tanning but something in her ancestry. She had towel-dried her hair and ran her fingers through it to straighten it, a comfortable look, like she was visiting an old friend, not a complete stranger.
"Here. Hot chocolate." I gave her a mug and she took it, wrapping her hands around it. "What should I call you? I'm Aimee."
"Angela," she replied with a smile, very Cheshire Cat-like. "You live here alone?"
I nodded easily. I had set the alarm and was sure she was only making conversation. "I inherited it from my grandfather. He made his fortune in metals and had this house built years and years ago. Wasn't too long ago that the first neighbors started building out here."
Angela nodded. "That's where I was coming from, a neighbor of yours. I dance for a living. Modern and Jazz. A producer is a friend of my sister's and I had met with him to discuss a new project. Boy, was that wrong for me. He want dancers to dress up as organs. Like the heart and liver. Things like that."
"Sounds weird," I responded. "Do you want to go sit by the fire? There's one in the office. She nodded and I led her down the hall. Just as we entered the room I remembered that I had left the computer on. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice the website that I was still logged onto.
"Is that Literotica.com?" she asked.
Yep, she noticed, I thought.
"Uh, yeah. I was, uh, just browsing for laughs," I said uneasily. By the look on her face I could tell she new what I was doing, or preparing to do.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I leave you alone to… finish?" I felt a little flutter in my chest. She was flirting. Maybe.
I quickly scanned the desk and there in all its incriminating glory was my vibrator. The large knobby kind that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Usually just handling that was enough to get me aroused, but now that I was caught with it?
"Oh, no. I can wait 'til you leave. Wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable." I was joking, really. Trying to sound nonchalant about it. Then she dropped the bomb.
"Oh, I wouldn't be uncomfortable. I do it myself." Cheshire grin again. "Have you read "Breathing in Silence" yet?"
I shook my head.
"You should. I'll wait." She sat by the fire and I sat down at my computer and found the story.
It was the eve of her wedding and she had run from the chapel in an attempt to rid herself of her impending marriage. She did not love the man she was betrothed to marry, nor did she expect that she would possess the weakness to let the relationship reach this point. But now that she had come to a realization, she had to correct it; had to find her true self and decide if she was truly who she suspected she might be.
Not bad, I thought. I read on. It took only a few minutes before I got to the sex and this was what I'd been looking for. Somehow Angela had known I felt the pressure building and discovered that my hand had crept into my boxers and towards my crotch. My breathing had gotten a little shallower.
"Do you like it so far?" Angela asked from where she now stood close to my chair. I nodded silently, noticing that she had shed the borrowed robe. "Maybe you should continue."
I read more, careful to not tear my boxers off and shove that little green vibe deep inside me. I was that horny. So horny that I didn't resist when Angela placed a hand on my face, turning it to face hers. She kissed me deeply, with her beautiful blue eyes closed and her totally involved it the moment.
She held me like that for a long time, her tongue in my mouth, twisting against mine, the tips flicking against each other. She didn't try to touch my breasts of finger me during this; she only kissed me with her entire soul.
The kiss shook me. I had never been kissed so… completely before and I gladly let my control slip away. I reached out to Angela again and she pulled my hair gently, drawing my head back to expose my neck where she kissed my softly, whispering into my skin, causing it to tingle. I felt her tongue by ear and I smiled.
She pulled my sweatshirt off in a single, fluid motion, exposing my breasts to her waiting lips. She kissed them softly all over, licking around the nipples, licking all over. I've never been one to consider my breasts large, and now I was grateful for that genetic oversight as Angela was eagerly stuffing an entire breast in her mouth, sucking hard as she licked the nipple. I quivered in my chair.
She grabbed the front of my boxers and pulled them off, reaching a hand around my hips to help when they got stuck. She flung them on the floor and traced a finger down my thin, precisely groomed strip of pubic hair.
"Sexy," she said, running that finger down my clit and almost entering my hole. She lightly traced it around my lips and up and down my thighs. She did this slowly and then replaced her fingers with her mouth.
She put my feet on the desk and I leaned the seat back. I felt her tongue flickering quickly across my lips, up my thighs, and over my clit. She licked way down to my asshole and I gasped. She jabbed her tongue deep inside my pussy and licked furiously, sucking my clit. I reached up and pinched my nipples, moaning my encouragement.
She lapped my pussy with long swipes, using her whole tongue, from the bottom of my hole way up to the top of my clit. She went lower and lower, eventually licking my asshole deliberately and slowly. Like my pussy, she jabbed her tongue in deeply, without warning. I gasped again.
She did that for ten minutes, licking inside me, alternating randomly, before she grabbed my little green vibe and slid it into my pussy. She held it in place with her chin while she sucked my clit and flashed her tongue over it. My body began to tighten up as the orgasm approached and I felt a finger slid into my ass. I grunted and felt another.
Whatever concern I had felt at having two fingers slide into my virgin ass quickly disappeared as the vibrator and her tongue sent me blistering over the edge in an orgasm that had no rival in intensity. I moan or screamed loudly and I bucked my hips into her face and pulled her hair. I felt my pussy throb with each thrust of her fingers in my ass. She pulled them out and took out the little green vibe. She kissed me hard, trusting her tongue my mouth, forcing me to suck it and taste my juices on her tongue.
I like it.
She pulled me off the chair and onto the floor. She had discarded her robe and she crawled on top of me, pointing her smooth pussy at me. I dove in vigorously, inspired by her lips on my own pussy.
She was wet, probably wetter than I had been. I licked up and down, trying to be gentle and losing the battle. She grabbed me head and forced my face hard into her pussy. She took her lips off my pussy and got up to her feet, still crouching over me. She slid her asshole right on to my tongue.
This was new territory for and I was apprehensive. I tried to guide my tongue back to her pussy, but she reached back and pulled my head again, making sure I new what she wanted. I dug in and let her have it.
I licked and sucked at her asshole, doing my best with an unknown technique. I fingered her pussy, too. She shoved my hand in her pussy while she rubbed her clit. She rode them all, the whole time grunting and groaning until she came.
A long, breathy, "Ahhhhhh!" came first, then she switched to an "Ohhhhhh!" I shoved my fingers in harder and licked deeper. She kept riding my face and felt certain that she would break my nose. She didn't she only fell off of me and spun around, kissing me again.
Without so much as a word, she rolled me onto my side and lifted my leg. She crawled to me and pressed her pussy right against mine and began grinding her clit into mine. We were wet and smooth, a delicious combination when rubbing body parts. I had never been here before and I like it. Then I felt the little green vibe again.
This time it was in my ass. I was so wet the last time that the little green vibe was still lubed and it slid right in. It was cranked up all the way and she fucked me in the ass hard as she ground into me.
I came hard, my body jerking and spasming with each delicious thrust in my ass and grind against my clit. I slumped over on the floor, sweaty and enjoying the afterglow. Angela had come too, riding my leg and pussy while never giving up on my ass. She breathed heavy against me and could feel each breath she took. Her devilish grin had returned.
"I don't need to ask if you enjoyed that," she said, reaching over to pinch my clit. I twitched at the pleasant sensation. "The look on you face is enough."
I smiled back at her and snuggled closer. I awoke like that in the morning.
I looked around my little office and the fire had died down and there on my computer screen was the entire experience, written out in detail.
Had I written that? Was it all a fantasy?
I scrolled to bottom of the page and there was a phone number and a name: Angela.