Scent of Vanilla

Still holding me up against the wardrobe door, Henrietta shifted both her hands down between my legs, having to bend her knees slightly to reach as I was that much shorter than her, even as I strained to stay as upright as possible. With one hand she kept up the pressure on my clit, her fingers expertly establishing a rhythm of movement. With the other, she slipped her fingers over my opening, collecting wetness, and as she moved back to kissing me, firmly and sexily, she eased a finger inside me. She was gentle, taking a few seconds to slowly work her finger inside, but the sensation was exquisite. Standing up, I felt as if my whole weight was pushing me down onto her finger, and when she curled it inside me, combined with rubbing my clit, I was moaning into her mouth and my thighs were shaking. Both of her hands synchronised their movements now, my eyes squeezed shut, and after a few minutes I dimly became aware that she'd pushed a second finger inside me, moving fluidly between pressing on my g spot and pushing her fingers in and out of me, firmly and quickly.

I tried to shift my weight and realised she was almost holding me up with her hands, my feet barely touching the carpet. I buried my face in her neck, her hair enveloping me, breathing the scent of her shampoo as she kept fingering me. My nipples ached in my bra, and ordinarily I would have felt overwhelmed and asked Tom to stop at this point, but Henrietta was in control of me and I couldn't bring myself to make any noise other than those of pleasure. When I did finally feel my first orgasm wash over me, just a little one, enough to make my body tense and my teeth dig into Henrietta, she slowly slackened her pace and lowered me gently to the floor.

Gasping for breath, it dawned on me that another girl had made me cum, and it seemed almost effortless. The mirror of the wardrobe was suddenly cold on my back and I looked at Henrietta, preparing to say something about how good that had felt, but as my mouth opened she gently pushed a finger against my lips, quieting me. There was a faint taste of my cum on her finger and she looked at me for a moment, her confident eyes gazing at my wide, wondering ones.

"I'm not finished, yet," Henrietta whispered, but her voice sounded as loud as a shout in the quiet room, only filled with my shallow breaths. She flashed me another grin and, tossing her thick hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, she dropped to her knees in front of me. I stared down at her, uncomprehending right up until the moment she moved her face forward and I felt the first touch of her hot tongue on my clit.

It was like an explosion of sensations. I was already sensitive from the fingering earlier, and the slick, wet surface of her tongue, pressing firmly onto me, pushed me straight through a wall of resistance and into a different world. I had no time to think, only to feel. She slid one of her fingers back into me, meeting her tiny licks with pressure from the finger, and I realised with a moment of slight panic that I was actually seeing stars: my vision was full of dancing spots. I wobbled briefly on the spot, but Henrietta reached her free hand up, sliding her damp fingers over my tummy and my ribs until they reached my bra. She held her hand there, my nipple in the centre of her palm under the fabric, and pushed me firmly into the wardrobe, keeping my balance as she went back to focusing on my pussy. It was heavenly. I tilted my head back, hard against the mirror, my hair crunching whenever I moved, but I barely noticed it as the rushes of warm arousal rose from between my legs.

One of my hands grabbed the wardrobe door handle, squeezing it for dear life, and the other I slid into Henrietta's hair, gently guiding her tongue to an even more divine spot, not that she really needed it. It was more for the touch of her gorgeous hair, feeling it in my fingers, the warmth of it. Somehow it was both comforting and arousing to touch her there, the tiny movements of her head conveying up through my hand and my arm as I felt them on my clit. I was awash with pleasure and whenever my body moved, it was counteracted by Henrietta's powerful, firm hand on my chest, shivers of sensation going through my nipple as it rubbed on the fabric.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned out, her finger inside me pushing in and out fast and hard, in time with the movements and swirls of her tongue. Seconds later I could feel another orgasm coming, this one more intense, and I curled up my fingers in her hair, eyes shut, feeling it approach closer and closer. Henrietta didn't pause for a moment and pushed me, no, drove me across the edge. I came hard, my body shaking again, my back locking in place. The room was full of my moans, and when I finally felt the orgasm subsiding I did wonder briefly whether the students in the next-door rooms could hear me. And then, as relaxed as I felt, I started to wonder whether Henrietta often brought people back to her room and made them feel like this, and she must have sensed my sudden nervousness because she slowly withdrew from me and stood up.

"Don't overthink it," she advised, gently, kissing me once, lightly. Her lips were gone almost as soon as they'd arrived. My legs gingerly took my weight as I stood away from the wardrobe, my thighs wet as they touched together for the first time in what felt like hours but must have been minutes. Henrietta stood in front of me, smiling as she reached behind her back and undid her bra. Her breasts were beautiful. She had big areolas ringing her nipples, which were thick and erect but not especially large, maybe not even as big as mine. Without the support of the bra, they moved easily when she moved, dominating the top half of her body. I was used to looking at my pink, poky nipples in the mirror, and it was a thrill to see the contrast of her body in front of me. We moved close together and kissed again, her boobs pressing into me.

Our making out got more intense again, standing in the middle of the room, her hands on my waist and my hips as I held her shoulders, loving the touch of her soft, smooth skin under my fingertips. I kissed her cheekbone and then her jaw, under her ear, and I felt soft pressure on my hips from her hands, moving me downward. I moved down her neck, alternating between kisses and gentle licks, but as I crossed her shoulder I felt a sudden rush of panic. I was kissing the top of her cleavage now and in a few seconds I'd be kissing and licking another girl's breasts. That was... a line to cross. Did I want to? Was I ready? Somehow, mentally, Henrietta fingering me and licking me hadn't felt... well, hadn't felt like I was actually having lesbian sex. But feeling her nipple against my lips definitely would feel like that.

Her breast was soft as I kissed the top of it, her cleavage warm and slightly damp from sweat. I was agonising over whether to take this next step and I hesitated, no longer moving downwards but circling her cleavage, furiously trying to decide what to do. At first Henrietta didn't respond, except to increase the gentle downward pressure on my hips, but after a few more seconds she stepped back, her hands moving up to my shoulders, and I straightened up, looking at her, embarrassed at my indecisiveness.

"Own it, Lucy," she said, confidently, reaching up to one of her breasts and cupping it in her hand, She held my shoulder tightly, pulling me, moving her fingers around and under my curtain of hair, holding the top of my neck. In a second she'd put my mouth on her nipple, and I licked, then sucked. She moaned softly, a satisfied noise, and I used my lips to squeeze her nipple gently. I had no idea how I should be doing this, but she kept my head in place and I licked again, my body responding with a sudden shudder of excitement when I realised I was really licking another woman's nipple. I sucked again, a little harder, and she dug her fingers into my neck. It was gentle, but I tensed up, suddenly unsure, licking half-heartedly. Henrietta released her grip, her breast moving away from me, and she looked at me.

"It's okay," she reassured me as I felt a flush of shame and inadequacy. "First times can be tough. I have an idea, though."

She took my hand, a gesture I found surprisingly intimate, and squeezed it gently as she led me over to the bed. I sat down on the edge, the bedclothes suddenly cool against my thighs, and she stood in front of me.

"Close your eyes. I promise it'll be okay," she said, making eye contact. I nodded and closed them, then immediately opened them again, and Henrietta laughed.

"Closed. You'll love it, I promise," she reassured me, and this time I closed them and covered them with my fingers, like a child.

I heard her going in a drawer and then some moving around, fabric rustling, and I imagined she might be putting on some different underwear, or maybe getting a blindfold or something. My eyes shot open when I felt her sit next to me, but my fingers covered them so I couldn't see anything.

"Open," she commanded, and when I did, I looked over to see her sitting there, still topless, still smiling, but with a strap-on attached over the top of her boyshorts. It was bright pink, smooth and matte, and to my slight relief it wasn't particularly large. Definitely smaller than Tom's cock. Henriette reached over and took my hand again, squeezing my fingers softly, then put my hand on the toy.

"You've done this before, right?" she asked, breathily, kissing my cheek. My fingers wrapped around the shaft. Weirdly, she was right - this did make me feel more comfortable. I knew what to do with a cock. I started stroking gently, my fingers slipping over the soft plastic material, and when I pushed down, towards her, I felt Henrietta push back gently, her breaths getting faster, and I guessed that the base of the toy was pressing into her clit. I started to stroke a little faster, but it wasn't as easy to rub as a real cock and I had to slow down again to stop the cock from jerking and bouncing around.

Henrietta kissed me deeply, her tongue moving over mine, her lips pressing into me, and then she pulled back and gave me a sexy look that almost melted me.

"Get on all fours," she said, a tone of firmness entering her voice that I hadn't heard yet. "I want to fuck you."

I didn't dare disobey. I was already on the bed, facing the mirror, spreading my thighs to get my balance right, when I actually realised what the implications were. Firstly, as Henrietta moved into position behind me, she could see my pussy and my bum on display in front of her. Secondly, she was going to put that toy inside me and fuck me. Any time to think about what I wanted was lost as the tip of the toy pressed up against me, my hips pushing back to provide resistance. I looked up at the mirror and Henrietta was looking down at her cock, getting it into the right place, and then pushing herself forward. The toy entered me easily, making me gasp softly and then moan. It did not feel the same as Tom's cock, which was bigger, hotter and softer, but the hardness of the plastic had an interesting feeling of its own.

Spreading my thighs a little wider I prepared for her to push in deeper, but I felt Henrietta's hands on my hips, pulling me back upwards. I leant forwards, my arms collapsing and my head and neck pressing into the soft bed, my hips and bum up high for her, and she pushed the toy all the way into me. My moans were muffled by the bed now, but as she began to build up a rhythm I could hear her moans loud and clear. All I could think was this: a girl is fucking me. Another girl is fucking me. I'm being fucked by a girl. In the mirror I could see Henrietta's tits bouncing as she pushed into me, still gripping my hips for leverage, her nipples hard and casting tiny shadows..

"Fuck, good girl," Henrietta said, between moans, pushing harder into me. I moaned back, gripping the bedclothes even harder. "You're so good at taking cock."

Tom and I had never done any kind of dirty talk. Our lovemaking had a soundtrack of moans, grunts and sometimes the radio if we were trying not to be overheard. A rush of embarrassment went through me again as I didn't really know how to respond.

Henrietta seemed to realise this and prompted me. "Tell me what you're doing," she said, that note of firmness still in her words.

"Taking cock," I replied, in a small voice.

"Taking whose cock?"

"Yours."

"You're taking another girl's cock."

That made me moan. I hadn't realised dirty talk could physically turn me on like this. Henrietta grinned at me in the mirror.

"You like that?" she asked, speeding up again. "You like it when I fuck you?"

I nodded, my hair falling over my face as I tried to push my hips back, feeling incredibly wet, now.

"Lucy, look at me," Henrietta said, and I pushed my hair out of my face, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"I'm making you my bitch."

What surprised me the most was how fucking much I loved it. At that moment I wanted nothing more in the entire world than to be Henrietta's bitch. To take her cock, to get fucked by her, to do whatever she told me to. She owned me, mind and body. I gasped, moaned, and felt her slapping into me from behind even harder, the toy driving deep into me.

"Yes," I replied, wishing my voice wasn't as weak as it was.

"Take it, bitch," Henrietta said, without a pause.

"Yes," I said again, moaning the word this time. I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. It was like a whole side of me I'd never known existed.

I felt Henrietta pushing the toy into me fast and hard, her hips driving into me, and I pushed back, knowing that she was grinding herself on the toy as she did it. She started to look a little flustered in the mirror, her cheeks getting some colour, one of her hands letting go of my hips for a second to squeeze her own breast, pulling on her nipple as she moaned, breathlessly. I stayed in place, pushing back hard, driving my hips back onto her, wanting her to cum.

"I want you to cum," I had said, almost without realising it, vocalising my thoughts perfectly.

Henrietta responded by moaning louder. "Fuck, yes, I'm so close," she said, any semblance of a whisper long gone.

I couldn't believe I wanted another girl to use my body to make herself cum, and I definitely couldn't believe how okay I felt with it. I loved it. I wanted it so much. I stayed in place, letting her keep up her rhythm, her fingernails digging hard into my hips as she leant forwards and rode me through her orgasm, the toy pounding deep into me each time. I wanted to look in the mirror and watch her, but the force of the fucking had pushed my head back into the bedclothes and my noises were muffled again.

She slowed, then stopped, pushed all the way inside me. I felt dizzy and took a couple of deep breaths, a little unsteady, and Henrietta gently released her grip on me, the spots her fingernails were leaving lingering spots of gentle pain. The toy slid back out of me and I moaned one last time, prepared to collapse down onto the bed, eyes fluttering closed, but Henrietta held me gently in place. Then my eyes shot as wide open as they had ever been when I felt the slick tip of the toy press firmly against my arsehole.

"Just take it," Henrietta said, soothingly but still firmly, pressing harder.

"I haven't-" I said, urgently.

"I want to take your virginity, Lucy," Henrietta replied, more firm and soothing now. "Be a good girl and say yes."

This was not how I had imagined things. Tom had never shown more than a passing interest in my bum and I figured maybe one day we'd try it together for a special occasion. But now the toy was pressing hard into me and as tight as I was, the toy was wet enough and it would slip inside me any moment if I didn't stop her.

But, I realised with a rush, I didn't want to stop her. I wanted to be her bitch and do whatever I was told. And if that meant taking her up my arse, then I wanted to do it.

"Yes," I breathed, relaxing, and in the same moment the toy moved past my resistance and went inside. It hurt as it stretched me, a sudden, sharp burning sensation, and I let out a quiet cry. Henrietta went slowly but didn't relent, the toy inching its length into my tightness, the burning distracting me from anything else until I felt Henrietta's thighs press into me. Okay, she was all the way inside. At least it couldn't get any more intense than this moment. She pulled back and I felt relief, and then she pushed back in, and this time my nerves gave way to a satisfied fullness. Having her deep inside me actually felt good, in a way, although my arsehole still hurt. She started going faster and I bit down on the bedclothes, her hands gripping my hips again, and as she began to really fuck my arse I realised that the burning sensation was melting away. First the edges went, then it shrank to just a point of pain, then it was gone. And, incredibly, what I was feeling in its place was pure pleasure.

"I wanted to fuck your arse since the moment I saw you at the party," Henrietta said in a steady voice, her thighs rhythmically slapping into my bum as she fucked me. "You're fucking gorgeous."

I could only moan, feeling flattered and empowered.

"It's even sexier that it's your first time," she went on, keeping a steady pace. "You're so tight."

I moaned again. God, I wanted this so much.

"So deep inside somewhere even your boyfriend hasn't been..." she said, and I couldn't believe how intense it felt. The combination of her voice, feeling like it was bypassing my ears and sounding straight in my head, and the incredibly strong sensations of the toy moving in and out of my arse, was turning me on more than anything I'd ever experienced before.

"Take it, bitch, take my cock in your arse," Henrietta kept on, smoothly, evenly, pouring her voice over me. My moans were approaching screams. "Cum with my cock inside you, slut."

That was all it took. Incredibly, I could feel my muscles tightening as I orgasmed, just from the feeling of her inside my arse. My clit and my pussy weren't being touched, and the feeling of the orgasm was completely different, more of a whole-body experience, my nerves on fire, rather than orgasms centred on my pussy. I shook all over, barely able to move as Henrietta kept fucking me, keeping up the pace until I was done, falling forward, the toy sliding out of me as I fell onto the bed, still and panting. I must have laid there for a few minutes, on a completely different planet.

Henrietta picked me up like a ragdoll. She'd taken the toy off as she lay me across her lap, her thighs soft and pillowy for my head. I looked up at her, vaguely able to take in her gentle smile as she brushed her fingers through my hair, fanning it out behind me and combing it. The sensation was calming and I relaxed, almost forgetting where I was, possibly on the edge of sleep, too.

"Are you okay?" Henrietta asked, softly, touching my cheek, still combing my hair. I looked up again and nodded, unable to find words. I turned my head slightly and realised that the softness I felt against my forehead was one of her breasts, and we were both on exactly the same wavelength as she leant forward in the same moment I opened my mouth. I sucked her nipple gently, not trying to arouse her like I had done earlier but somehow more to comfort her, and myself. She smiled, still playing with my hair, and watched as I kept sucking, her nipple pressed into my tongue, my nose pressing back into her breast. It felt heavenly, like an incredible, relaxing dream, her warm softness surrounding me. And I think at some point I must have fallen asleep there.

The Van Ruyters restaurant in the city was classy enough to have a dress code but not so fancy that you felt intimidated, although on my usual student budget I wouldn't have even dreamed of eating here. But Tom's family was paying, as an end-of-term celebration for him, and of course, I was invited as his girlfriend. I sat on the polished wooden chair, cutting my way through a potatoes Lyonnaise starter, pretending to listen to Tom telling his family about our planned trip to Italy this summer. In reality, I couldn't stop thinking about my bum, which still hurt. It was about halfway between a pleasant recently-fucked soreness and actual pain, but it was persistent enough that I couldn't just ignore it.