These Two Girls Are Flirting

These two girls are flirting, and only one of them knows it. Cat is eighteen and smiling and a freshman; this cozy box of a room on whose carpet she lounges is the dormitory residence of Ellie, the junior, whose legs are very long. Ellie lies across the bed, and she peeks down at her companion with two extra years' worth of knowingness. Her toes dance behind her in a small, lacy pile of laundry. The window is dark, the hour late, and the sounds of chattering partiers and passersby drift in only sporadically. But in this room, two girls spend their time together, and no one is looking at the clock. Their conversation has paused. They look at one another, and something starts to pass between them.

Ellie shows that she is aware of it. "You wanna have some fun?" she asks, lifting a voluminous brassiere by its strap with the ball of her foot.

Cat isn't blushing yet, so she must not know what this means. But she is smiling like a drunk person, as all the goodwill that cool, friendly Ellie and her exciting, awesome group of friends have been lavishing on her this evening radiates freely from her soft face. Her bare arm stretches out luxuriously against the soft carpet; she sprawls and basks beneath the candly light of the dorm room, and of Ellie's gaze. She floats in the afterglow of her first true experience of adult freedom and fun, and in this moment, she'll say yes to anything.

"Okay," she says, her normally husky voice catching a little as she releases herself to this mystery. Ellie shifts forward, and the bra drops onto its mates.

"Yeah?" says the tall girl, in a tone Cat hasn't heard before, though the two have been chatting and joking off and on since they departed from a nearby party together an hour ago. "Stand up," she commands, and Cat cocks her head coquettishly. She is confused but totally game, and when she sees Ellie nod, she gathers herself up straight with a little flourish. "Good girl," says Ellie. "I should give you a treat." Cat giggles, knotting her fingers behind her in unconscious anticipation. She isn't thinking about anything. For this moment, she just waits.

Ellie smiles and rolls onto her back, letting her amber curls stream off the mattress. "Ahh, pretty Cat, pretty kitty," she coos, taking on some of Cat's giddiness. "Now close your eyes, and I'll give you your prize." Her long, narrow thighs are clenched together with unusual pressure. Things are moving fast in this dorm room.

Cat's unquestioning confidence in this game hasn't quite expired; she closes her eyes, and another, slightly crazy giggle escapes her. She probably feels butterflies in her stomach. The mystery is all around her.

Ellie is staring upside-down at her charge. Her eyes move all around, from cutely swaying hips to softly swelling bust; from tense, perky shoulders to sunny, rounded face. But her expression hints at what she really sees—a person, a girl, a ripe fresh pupil. Her eyes are half open, as are her lips, and her breasts (rather smaller, one might note, than the cups of the aforementioned bra) poke firm little nubs through her cotton shirt.

"Put your hands out," hears Cat, who does so. "Okay, just find the bed, and hold on tight..." Cat focuses on Ellie's instruction, easily trusting the older girl with her dignity. She's not beaming so brightly anymore; her smile is still there, but on hold, expectant. She lifts her hands and steps forward, finding the metal bedframe (it is a bunk bed; Ellie currently rests on the lower level, where her bustier roommate Stacy normally sleeps) and wrapping her pale fingers around its nearest bar. She says nothing; she is under a spell.

So is Ellie, whose hands are now slowly moving toward Cat's hips. They land there, and Cat jumps a little, but by the time her breath has caught up Ellie's fingers are already swirling over the exposed flesh beneath her baby t-shirt, and she has this sensation to follow, something new not to think about. Redness gathers in her cheeks.

"Mmmm," hums the upside-down Ellie, who is nimbly brushing her nails toward Cat's tummy, under her bellybutton, where they stroke in a little spiral. Cat pants out through her mouth in sudden ticklishness, but her hands remain fixed on the bedframe; when her pants begin to slide down a moment later, she docilely shifts to aid their removal.

"Oh my god," she says to the darkness beyond her eyelids.

Ellie cups her hands over Cat's soft buttocks, pushing her elegant head way back so that her mouth is at the level of the other girl's panty-covered pussy. In one smooth pull and push, she brings her face into Cat, scrunching and smearing delicate fabric with her flexing lips. "Hah... ah..." peeps Cat, whose face and neck are now thoroughly blushing. Ellie clenches and pulses her neglected thighs as she massages Cat's crotch.

The doorknob clicks, and something bumps against the adjoining wall. Neither girl reacts—Ellie is alterating hot breaths with hungry little nibbles and kisses, and Cat is trembling and bent, her mind well outside this dorm room and its little noises. "Shit, Ellie's getting laid," says somebody in a jovial, quizzical voice. Ellie would recognize this as Stacy, if her ears were attuned to anything but the warm rustle and nudge of Cat's sweaty, spread thighs. "Mumblr grap kitch fo," a deeper voice seems to reply, and Stacy's sharp laugh attenuates as she and her companion(s) depart down the hall. One more thud sounds, followed by a feminine squeal (of pleasure, it is clear); then the girls are alone again.

Ellie is licking in earnest now, and droplets of saliva and other fluids drip from the sopping crotch of Cat (who is a virgin) into Ellie's hair and down Cat's white thighs. Her jaw works powerfully; patches of sweat show through her shirt where the cloth plasters against her lithe body. She clutches and relaxes her fingers around soft buttocks still clothed in utterly damp panties, orchestrating a simple humping rhythm.

Cat accedes to all of this. Her eyes are squinted and she holds her mouth open, but she makes little sound. But now her panting breath intensifies, and she jerks her pelvis spasmodically, flexing and clenching her muscles under Ellie's firm hands. The other girl's teeth pull aside the twisted panty-crotch, and Cat cries out as warm lips envelop her distended (and rather large) clitoris.

Ellie feasts on that reddened lump of nerves, tonguing it hard across its exposed head. "Oh god oh god oh god oh gooodd," whines Cat, who twists and hunches under this onslaught. Ellie focuses her motions on the clit, suckling at it and scrubbing her tongue against it with perverse pressure. The tension is visible in the tendons of her neck; she continues to rock and clench her own thighs (now crossed) in a facsimile of fucking. She pushes and rubs as hard and as swiftly as she can, and Cat's slippery torso gyrates as if she is merely the puppet for Ellie's tongue.

The younger girl is now wailing, and she bucks within Ellie's grasp as if to escape, but her fingers wrap strongly as ever around the metal bar. She appears, as she has done for some time, to be climaxing. Her shirt has ridden up almost to her armpits.

"Ahhhh...! Ahhh! Ahhhh!" she cries out, the strange rasp her voice normally possesses (which, by earlier statement of Ellie's friend Mallory, is totally cute) now breaking up her high-pitched gasps with irregular static. "Ohhh noo... oh, uh... oh stop, oh stop, ah! Ah!" Clearly, Cat's poor clitoris no longer welcomes this attention, but the attacking tongue continues to slide to and fro, stimulating its entire length without respite.

Something has come over Ellie, who seems intent on pulling her charge into this experience as far as she can. She rocks the bed with her tongue-thrusting rhythm, forcing wave after wave of moist pressure over Cat's swollen clit. Stacy's cover sheet pops off one corner of the mattress, and a pillow falls from the upper bunk to the floor. Cat grunts and squeaks; she bends over as far as Ellie will let her, as if the energy forced into her clitoris must collect in her spine and coil her like a spring. Soon she is wholly taut. Her belly quivers, and something releases inside her.

Ellie's mouth is wide open; a warm rush pours into and over it. Cat's bladder has relaxed, and her overwhelmed body is urinating on her tormentor's face. Ellie snorts, but keeps licking; she misses the clit now, and she has to stop to (unthinkingly) swallow. She breathes in fits, working her mouth without her former focus. Her thighs twist round ane another beneath her flushed midriff. She might be orgasming.

Cat rocks and pants in exhaustion. She's held her legs open for Ellie to the end, and torment has given way to tickly nuzzling. After one or two spurts, her bladder has regained its control, and only a few drops ever reached the carpet (though Cat may need to wash her pants before she leaves). She stands up straight, releasing the bar at last, and steps delicately backward, sliding free of Ellie's warm hands (and free of her puddled pants as well).

The two women gaze at one another, their chests rising and falling in unison. Neither speaks. Cat sinks to the floor and puts her arms around Ellie, one under her neck and the other across her breast. She lays her head on her lover's collarbone, gently kissing the skin there once. Ellie leans her head back and breathes, stroking Cat's hair. The room is very warm. It will stay that way for a while.