tagLesbian SexWhere The Women Are Ch. 01

Where The Women Are Ch. 01


[Disclaimer: None of the names mentioned herein are those of real people. The events described are fictionalized experiences and extrapolated fantasies from my college days. Additionally, I do not in any way intend to imply that the scenarios described are typical of what occurs at a women's college. They are simply typical of me.]

When I tell men that I attended a women's college, they usually say, in a voice heavy with innuendo, "I've heard about what goes on at those girl's schools." But what they imagine is from their masculine perspectives and fantasies, and so it is lacking in depth and breadth, not to mention out of touch with reality. They imagine lesbian sex going on between busty sorority girls with brazilian waxes in every room of every dormitory. They imagine the occasional lucky man tied to some girl's bed with women lining up at the door for a chance at him. But the reality is much subtler and far more interesting. Most of the girls at women's colleges are incredibly intelligent, the cream of the crop intellectually. Most of them are studious and driven: they had to work hard for the grades and test scores to get there. Some of them are from priviledged families, but more and more, the student body has become a cross-section of cultures, races, and socio-economic strata. And most of the girls there are hetero. I figure that a minimum of one in ten are lesbian, and of the remaining 90%, probably one in five is willing to experiment, like I was.

While I was curious, I didn't start experimenting until my Junior year. Early on, I'd found a boyfriend with a fascinating mind, an amazing mouth, a thick cock, and a willingness to learn to use them to maximize my enjoyment of him, and his of me. But Drew went off to grad school three hours away, and we commenced a weekend-only physical relationship that was insufficient to my needs and his. We admitted this to each other and spoke of breaking up, but there was love there between us, and we did not want to end our relationship because of distance. Yet, both of us were highly-sexed and neither of us appreciated the fact that when we got together all we did was fuck like rabbits. Whenever we saw each other, the sexual tension was so intense that even when we tried to go out and do things as a couple like we used to before he moved away, we ended up having sex. Restaurants, concert halls, parks, stairwells, swimming pools, class rooms, libraries, stores--it didn't matter. Our eyes would meet, or our hands would touch, and that urge to copulate would surge irresistably through us.

We spoke several times a week, and one day, after a couple of months of separation, Drew spoke longingly of his attraction to some of the women he saw almost daily. I told him he should ask them out. He said that it would not be fair. When I asked him why, he said because it would not be fair for him to have sex but not me. I remarked that it would not take me long to find another partner, and told him of the dates I'd turned down. I've never been a sexually jealous person and the thought of him with someone else did not bother me--my only concerns were that he practice safe sex if he did sleep with someone else, and that he tell me about it, preferably beforehand. But Drew was not like me in that, and the thought of me with another man drove him nuts. So we dropped the subject.

Soon afterwards, a solution presented itself in the form of one of the women in my house. Pilar was openly bi-sexual and quite a hot little number. She'd been hitting on me for two years, and at the beginning of our junior year, she'd begun doing things like sitting on my lap and feeding me bits of food, and slipping her arms around my neck and nuzzling me so I could smell the scent of the woman she'd just been with on her face. We went out dancing with a group one night as a stress-break from mid-terms and she seduced me. It was beautiful and exciting and exhausting. The following morning I called Drew to confess what I had done. I expected a jealous outburst, but what I got instead was a barrage of questions. He admitted that the thought of me and Pilar together was very arousing, and we had phone sex as I described what had occurred the night before:

I left the lab at about 10pm on Friday night, utterly exhausted. My partner and I had been running PCR and gel electrophoresis on DNA from Brugia malayi for a project involving the development of a biological assay for diagnosis of lymphatic filariasis. I'd missed the traditional Friday high tea and dinner as well, so I was intent on finding something to eat and getting a few hours sleep before I got back to work, this time on a lit paper that was due Monday morning.

When I let myself into the house, there were a few men and a dozen women in the living room. One of them was Pilar. She was wearing a little black skirt and a black vest, both of which showed off her golden skin marvellously. At first glance it looked like she was wearing a silk-screened tank under her vest, but she wasn't. She and Serena had painted the skin of her torso, front and back. She removed the vest to show me their handiwork, and I was impressed, not only by the artistry, but by the bounce of her breasts. Such perky little breasts.

They cajoled me into going out with them. Pilar dragged me upstairs and shoved me into the shower, and while I was showering, she picked out my clothes. I balked at wearing a summer-weight dress in late October, but she reminded me that we'd be dancing at the Black Pearl, and we would be working up a sweat. When I finished dressing and looked at myself in the mirror so I could fix my hair, I groaned. Pilar had chosen a push-up-push-out bra to wear with the dress and I was showing some serious cleavage. Which meant that guys at the club were going to think I was available, when I wasn't. Pilar wouldn't hear of me changing, so I sighed, then pinned my hair up to keep it off my neck and out of my way on the dancefloor. Forgoing stockings, I slipped into some flats, grabbed a wrap, and away we went.

The Pearl was packed. Locals and people from all five colleges in the area were there because it was one of the few places that the under-21 crowd could go with friends who were of legal drinking age. The Friday-night DJ always played good dance music and this night was no exception. The group of us pushed our way onto the dance floor upstairs and started shaking it. Pilar had an amazing little gymnast's body and she had some serious moves. I remember seeing her dancing with Serena and Melody, watching her weave her body around them like a cat. I loved it when she grabbed Melody's mane of waist-length blonde hair and bent her backwards, exposing her midriff. Pilar's golden hand played across Melody's belly as she pumped her body against the taller woman's back, hips rocking, breasts bouncing, lips trailing along the exposed throat. It was a very sexually charged moment, and I got hot just watching them. I think everyone did.

We danced for hours, letting off our mid-term stress. Pilar paired off with me several times, and inevitably she ended up grinding herself against my thigh or slipping her own thigh between my legs, bumping against my pubis. She was making me crazy; I hadn't seen Drew for two weeks and I was so sexually frustrated I was ready to hump my bedpost even before I went out dancing. Every brush of her body against mine sent a zing of pleasure through me. Mmm, yes, all that bumping and grinding to the powerful bass grooves on the dance floor was making me wild.

At one point Pilar worked her way down my body and back up, her fingertips trailing along the backs of my thighs, sending shivers through me and making my nipples harden. Her eyes fixed on my breasts on the way up and she pressed her lips to my cleavage, her tongue snaking out to taste my skin. I gasped at the sensation. A moment later, her mouth was just inches from mine. Her hand slipped up the back of my neck and she pulled me toward her, kissing me full-on. It was probably a brief kiss, but it seemed to last several minutes. When her mouth opened and her tongue sought mine, I met it. She slipped her arms around my neck and arched her body against me, purring, then broke away, putting distance between us, dark eyes dancing in a merry face.

We closed the place down, then stumbled up the hill to our houses. Some of the girls paired off with each other. One of the boys got lucky; the other one who had been with us headed home, alone. Serena and her boyfriend asked Pilar to join them for a three-way, but she declined. Instead, she linked her arm in mine and we kept walking. I didn't think anything of it at the time, afterall, we lived in the same house. We walked the solo girl to her house and made sure she was safely inside before we turned back to our own, just a few blocks away.

Pilar unlocked the front door and held it open for me to preceed her. I, in turn, pulled open the entry door. As she passed me, she let her fingers trail along my back and waist. Her touch sent an electric thrill through me, making me hyper-aware of my skin and the moistness between my legs. Our eyes met and without a word, she took my hand and lead me up the stairs, stopping on the third floor landing. My room was on the fourth floor.

Pilar raised my hand and pressed her mouth to my wrist. Her nostrils flared and I could feel her breath on my skin. "I can smell you," she said.

I blushed deeply. I was breathing fast, and it wasn't from the walk up. I was damp, and it wasn't from sweating. Pilar had teased me all night and I was in such a state that I was quivering inside. But I had no idea what, if anything, I should do. I hadn't touched another girl since I was 11 or 12 years old.

She smiled at me and tugged on my hand. "Stay with me tonight?" she asked. Her voice was sultry, her normally slight British accent more pronounced. Her eyes were beautiful and lustrous, long-lashed, and so dark they were almost black. Her eyes drew me and I fell into them, willingly.

"I might," I said the first thing that came to mind. "If you kiss me."

Another smile, this one slow and meaningful. She ran her tongue across her lips as she stepped nearer. Her fingers followed the neckline of my dress upwards, teasing my bare skin, making my nipples rise. She put both of her hands on my shoulders and stood up on tip-toe to kiss me. It was a soft kiss, just a brush of her lips, really. It was tantalizing, a vivid reminder of the kiss we had shared earlier on the dance floor, making me want more.

'Again!' something in my mind cried. As she pulled away I ran my hands up her arms and cupped her head, tilting it back. I pressed my lips to hers, firmly. She opened her mouth to me, but I ignored the invitation, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip, instead.

She moaned and sighed, and breaking away, practically dragged me toward her room. Once inside, she began undressing me, her mouth kissing every bit of flesh that she exposed. When she freed my breasts from the bra she ran her hands along the undersides, cupping them. Her hands were so small and my breasts so large in comparison, but she somehow managed to trap my nipples between her thumb and forefinger while still cradling them. A little bit of pressure and she had me gasping, pleasure singing along my nerve-endings. My skin pebbled under the sensory onslaught of her hands and her mouth. She pushed me backwards onto her bed and stepped out of her skirt, and then she was on me.

We touched each other, fingers exploring. It was such a wonder to me, the way she felt under my fingertips, the way she moaned and gasped--no rough rumbling from her--no, she was a bundle of breathy cries just waiting to escape her throat. I have no idea when my nervousness left me, but it did, driven out by such powerful longing for this little spitfire from Belize. Her body pressing into mine was a mass of contrasting sensations and expectations. Her skin was cool in some places and very warm in others. It was silky soft and hairless, so different from Drew's. Her cheeks were smooth, instead of stubbly. She was rounded and soft instead of angled and hard.

She lay atop me, her groin pressing into mine, rocking against my clit, making me gasp and writhe. Her mouth explored my face, her tongue tracing the curve of my upper lip. She could not seem to keep her hands away from my breasts for long. She bounced them and kneaded them, pulled on the long nipples, sensitizing me to the point that every brush of her fingertips sent stars shooting behind my eyes. She shifted a bit, straddling my thigh, and her mouth on my throat was hot, so liquid hot, that I felt branded by it. Her teeth nipped at my skin, making me moan and shiver. My hands rose, fingers tangling in her hair, and that beautiful chin-length silken blackness felt soooo amazing to me, such a source of sensuous delight, that it brought tears to my eyes.

She was slow and tender and yet so hot and passionate. Her thigh pressed rhythmically on my mound as she rocked herself against me, her hips dancing against me as they had at the Pearl. I could feel the brush of her pussy against the top of my own thigh, a moist teasing tickle. I lifted my leg a little, pressing it up into her, and she moaned, her breath puffing against my skin. She dipped her tongue into the hollow at my throat, then slid farther down on my body, leaving a trail of kisses behind as she worked her way to my left breast. Her pussy skidded hard against my thigh in the same moment that her mouth enveloped my nipple. Both were hot and wet and slippery, and combined with the intense stimulation of my nipple, the duality of the sensations over-stimulated me. I was full-body blinded for a few seconds: seeing nothing, feeling nothing, utterly blue-screened. I think I even forgot to breathe.

I needed a change, a break from the intensity, so I moved out from under her, laying on my side. She joined me and we lay facing each other, her head pillowed on my arm. With my fingertips, I traced the outline of her body, the curve of shoulder and waist and hip. I found myself loving the golden tone of her skin, which seemed so rich a colour when contrasted against my own pale flesh. I admired the paint upon her skin, letting my fingers to trace the sinuous abstract designs that served to camouflage her nudity. Again, my hand swept down along her curves, and when I reached her hip, Pilar shivered and made a little sound in her throat. She took my hand and parted her thighs, pressing my fingers against her. It was very foreign and yet oddly familiar, the feel of her. I had this odd flash in my mind, the thought that if I had no feeling from the waist down, this is what it would feel like if I touched myself.

Pilar moved to lay on her back with one knee raised and tangled the leg nearest me between my own. Again, her hand sought mine, and again she pressed my hand against her mound, this time curling my fingers into her, pressing them between her labia, whispering, "Please... Please touch me, Kay."

God! She was liquid in her core, so hot and slippery that I sucked my breath in between my teeth. I marvelled at how wet she was, giddy with the knowledge that this was what my lovers felt when they touched me. Before I knew it, I had raised my fingers to my nose. I inhaled deeply of her scent. She smelled quite different from me, musky and fleshy to my ginger and floral. I slipped a finger into my mouth. Piquant. Tangy. Different from mine, but not really, just stronger. More intense. Oralgasmic.

"You taste incredible," I said breathlessly.

I pressed my fingers to her mouth, smearing her juices across her lips, wanting to share it with her. She moaned and took my fingers into her mouth, sucking on them. Amazing! I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her tongue flicking across my fingertips. Warm and slippery against my fingertips. Like her pussy was. I slowly pulled my fingers from her mouth and ran them down her body, giving each nipple a squeeze as I made my winding way back to that enticing, moist, hot-spot at the juncture of her thighs.

I touched my mouth to hers as I dipped my fingers back between her labia. She moaned and lifted her hips, pressing them upwards, against my hand. Her mouth opened under mine, her tongue seeking urgently, penetrating me, searching for my tongue. I let it glide against hers, teasing her in the same way my fingers were teasing her, dancing around the opening to her vagina, tapping there, occasionally pressing just the tips of my fingers along the inner lining.

Her body was in constant motion next to mine, twitching and rocking. She whimpered and moaned into my mouth, turning up the sexual charge, making me ache inside. 'So this is what it is like for my lovers when they pleasure me, ' I thought, revelling in her abandonment.

I sent my thumb searching for her clit, and found it with some difficulty, even though I knew exactly where to go. 'Such a little thing,' I thought to myself, thinking of my own clit. 'Big anatomical difference there.'

Any other thoughts I might have had fled my mind as Pilar jolted and cried out when my thumb grazed her clit. She took my head in both her hands and kissed me hard, sucking my tongue into her mouth. I tapped her clit a few times with my thumb and then slid my first two fingers deep inside her. Her body went rigid and she broke the kiss, throwing her head back over my arm.

"Yes! God yes! Like that... Just....like...that!"

I pumped my fingers in and out of her, giving an extra little bouncing push when I could go no further. She was unbelievably hot and wet inside. Feeling the incredible liquid warmth of her vagina, I understood why men seemed so single-mindedly intent on getting inside women. If it felt this good with my fingers, I could only imagine how intense it would be with a cock. I felt a new appreciation for Drew's self-control and promised myself I would not get angry at him the next time he came too soon. Hell, I was ready to come just from the feel of my fingers inside her.

I leaned my head forward and took Pilar's bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it. I pressed my thumb more firmly onto her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, jamming my fingers as deeply as I could into her. I hooked my fingers in under her pubic bone, there, on that small rough spot on the top of her vagina and rocked her whole body with the motion of my arm.

Pilar dragged in a deep breath and held it, her body arching as she came, her vaginal muscles clamping down on my fingers, fluttering wildly. Her legs kicked out and she let out her breath in short, sharp little gasps.

"Oh god... Fuck... Oh! Oh! Ah!"

A final forceful jolt of her hips against my hand and then she collapsed against the mattress, her chest heaving. I slowly slipped my fingers out of her and rested my hand on her belly. She tore her hair away from her sweaty face and looked up at me.

"I thought you'd never been with a woman before, " she gasped.

I looked into her eyes, and a dark memory surfaced, only to be banished immediately.

"Not like this," I said honestly. "Not at all like this."

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