Reunion

I noticed Paula when I registered in the Hilton lobby for the tenth reunion of my class. Paula Robins is a brunette with long shapely legs. She dresses to show her legs off, which was pretty daring at such a conservative university ten years ago. Nowadays short skirts are OK, as long as someone doesn't look like a slut. Paula's far from a slut; she's a very classy woman. When I was student, I thought of her as an "older" woman. But she's only eight years older than me, and now that I'm thirty she doesn't seem all that old. She's "Dean Robins" now, pretty high up in the university power structure.

I've been living and working in Seattle for the past five years. It was fun to be back in San Francisco for the reunion. One goal I had in mind was meeting old friends, and there was Paula. We hadn't been friends at the time, but friendly. She was too far above me to be considered a friend. Still, I was happy to spot her in the lobby.

Paula welcomed me with a kiss on the cheek, more affectionately than is common at this kind of function. I'd worked on a special project for her eight years earlier, so I thought the warmth was due to that. It didn't occur to me that Paula was available, because I knew about her long-term relationship with an artist named Shirley Jenkins.

I was lonely and pleased to see someone I knew. I'd been without a partner for over a year. I and Matt had decided it was best to split up, rather than torturing each other.

We shared a table at lunch and talked about our careers. I've been doing well in the advertising business, and she'd won some turf battles and now she's a real power at the University. I asked her how Shirley was. She looked down for a moment and said, "We're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You were a couple for so many years."

"She found someone younger."

I was shocked by her revelation and found it hard to respond. How do you tell a person that it isn't so bad that her long-term partner has ditched her for a younger woman? All I could do was tell her about my situation.

"I've split from my husband, so I know how you feel. It's tough, isn't it?."

"Yes it's tough, especially at night, when there's nobody to share my life."

We chatted briefly and after that went to different sessions.

That evening, after the main program, I saw Paula in the lobby and asked her to join me for a drink. I got a little mellow over cocktails at the hotel bar and it just came out of my mouth: "You know, I've always had a crush on you."

She looked at me closely, almost as if she was seeing me for the first time. Then she said, "A crush? I don't know how to respond to that."

I was embarrassed to have blurted out what I'd said. I tried to explain.

"I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

She smiled and asked, "How did you mean it?"

I had the distinct feeling that she was teasing me. I didn't know how to explain the attraction that I'd had for her years earlier. I felt like a silly tongue-tied girl, rather than a successful business woman.

Paula must have noticed how I felt. She reached over and held my hand. "No problem, my dear. We can talk about what you meant later. Have another drink."

We drank enough for me to feel *very* relaxed. Finally, we decided to leave and get ready for the next day's activities. Her room was on the twelfth floor, like mine, but closer to the elevator. As we got to the door of her room she said, "Come in, let's chat for a few minutes."

I nodded and followed her into the room. She removed her jacket and hung it in the closet. Then she asked me to hand her my jacket so that we could be more comfortable. I did that, and we sat down on the couch. I noticed her breasts under the white silk blouse. The air was charged with sexual tension. Was I imagining that, or was I just terribly lonely?

"I can mix a drink from the selection on the end table," she said. "What would you like"

"I'm not fussy. Do you have Scotch and soda? If so, that's what I'd like."

"Coming up. You drink like a man. Most women don't drink Scotch like that."

"Well, I feel very much like a woman."

Paula smiled at that remark but didn't respond. She handed the drink to me and made a a drink for herself. Then she said, "Tell me about your crush on me. What did you mean by that?"

"I'm sorry, Paula. I'm embarrassed to have mentioned the crush. It happened so long ago."

"Tell me about it. I find the thought of a lovely young woman like you having a crush on me quite exciting. Do you find me attractive?"

This was what I'd been hoping for since we met at lunch. I found her attractive, very attractive. I'd never had an affair with a woman but I've always found a woman's body to be much nicer than a man's body - nicer and softer. And I was lonely.

"Yes, I find you attractive, but it's more than just skin deep."

"What does that mean?"

"It's the way you carry yourself. You're very confident, and it shows. I've always been attracted to women of power."

"That's very perceptive of you. Yes, I'm very much a dominant woman. I prefer being the dominant partner in any relationship."

Was she telling me what I thought she was saying, or was I imagining it? The thought of getting spanked and being ordered to do something by a woman has always aroused me. Maybe it's a "mommy" sort of thing to be attracted to older women, especially those who seem in charge. An image of me stretched over her lap while being spanked flashed through my mind. It must have been all that alcohol in my bloodstream.

She leaned over to me and trailed her fingers, ever so gently, along the line of my jaw. I should have been surprised but I wasn't. Her touch felt natural, and inevitable. "That feels good after a long day," I said. "More, please."

Then she put her arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. "You're quite lovely, my dear," she said. Then she kissed me firmly on the lips. Our tongues touched, withdrew as if shy, and touched again. Paula wasn't satisfied with a "nice' friendly kiss. She started to work her tongue and lips against mine insistently, not waiting for permission of any kind. I would have given permission for passionate kisses if she'd asked me, but that wasn't her game. She was the aggressor and the boss. That suited me just fine. The idea of having a dominant woman take charge and make love to me was so arousing that my pussy was getting really wet, and so far all we'd done was kiss!

We pulled back and looked at each other. I wasn't sure about how to proceed. She solved that problem by taking charge. Paula slowly unbuttoned my blouse and removed it. I just sat there and let her undress me. I was aroused. It seemed like a dream, an erotic dream.

Then she slipped off my bra and kissed my breasts. The erotic dream was a reality, and my body responded. My panties were getting wet. She used her tongue on my nipples and then bit them gently. I was so excited at that point that my nipples, and the area around them, were super sensitive. Now I had the urge to take charge and make love to her.

"My turn," I said, and proceeded to remove her blouse and bra. Very shortly, two women naked to the waist were exploring each others' bodies. I was willing to go on like that for a while, but I wondered how to get more intimate. My pussy was dripping, and I needed more than kisses on my breasts.

Paula took the lead again. She put her hand under my skirt and put two fingers into my pussy. I've taken to masturbating a lot lately, but her fingers in my cunt felt much better than mine. She knew exactly what to do with her fingers. Paula found my clit and played with it, teasing me until I was ready to come. She knew how to bring out the slut in me, a slut with no shame about needing to be used and abused.

I exploded in an orgasm. My crotch was soaking wet. She pulled her hand out from under my skirt. Her fingers were wet with my juices. Very slowly and thoroughly she sucked on her fingers as we kept our eyes on each other. It was an erotic moment of sharing between us. She kissed me again, and I tasted myself on her lips.

"Let's relax," she said. Just lie here next to me and hold my hand." Then she said, "You haven't been with a woman before, have you?"

"No, you were my first. You must have sensed my inexperience. Were you disappointed with me?"

"Your inexperience is delightful, my dear. I'm pleased to be your first. I want to show you everything I know. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes."

"Does the thought of being with a dominant woman intrigue you."

"Yes, Paula, it does. But I'm not sure what that really means."

"I'll show you, and in a way that you'll love to be dominated by me. Are you game for that?"

"Yes, please."

"I'm going to sit on the edge of the bed, with my legs spread wide. Get on your knees in front of me, and come close. How do like kneeling for me?"

"That feels good."

"I can see how much you enjoy getting down on your knees for me. You're going to be just fine. Make love to my pussy."

I was kneeling in front of her, like a supplicant asking for a favor. My head was at the same height as her vagina, which was spread wide right in front of me. She put her hand on my head and pushed it down.

It felt natural to lick and kiss my way up her firm white thighs to her pussy. As I did that, I heard noises from her, low moans. She was really into the scene with me, no longer the old friend, but my lover. I knew that I was lost, finally in the world of lesbian sex that I'd imagined but never tried.

She spread wide for me. One of her labia was pierced, with a shiny metal ring inserted. I explored the ring with my tongue. As I did that, her swollen pussy lips showed how aroused she was getting. Her labia are much larger than mine, and a lovely dark rose in color.

It was an invitation I couldn't resist.

I kissed the area around her vagina and then the perineum, the sensitive area between the cunt and asshole. That brought an immediate response - she grabbed my hair and pulled me even deeper into her. She moaned.

Them it happened - she shuddered and drenched my face with her pussy juices. I sucked them up, my first taste of her. She tasted marvelous to me and I wanted more of her, greedy slut that I am.

We held each other as passion receded. Then I got off my knees and lay next to her on the bed. I felt like I'd arrived home: no pressure on me, just contentment to be with her.

As we lay there side-by-side I heard a strange question from her, "Do you like to get fucked?"

How was I supposed to answer a question like that? But a glance at her made it clear that she wasn't kidding around. She expected an answer.

"I do like to get fucked. Doesn't everybody?"

"I meant getting fucked by a woman. Have you every been fucked by a woman?"

I didn't know what she was saying. Fucked by a woman? She was waiting for my answer.

"I'm not sure I understand you. If you mean having a woman put her finger in my pussy, the answer is 'yes', but it happened only once - a long time ago."

"Finger fucking is OK, but I meant something else. I meant getting fucked by a woman wearing a latex cock, a dildo. Have you been fucked with one of those?"

"No, never."

I have some nice strap-ons at home that I'd like to try with you. All I have here is a vibrator. I'll dig mine out."

I watched from the bed as she rummaged around in a bureau drawer and held a big blue vibrator aloft. She said, "Here's my blue boy. You'll love him in your cunt. Get on your back and spread your legs for me, Claudia."

I did that and watched as she got onto the bed and held the vibrator firmly in one hand. She said, "let's test first to see if you're slick enough."

Paula pushed two fingers into my cunt, pulled them out and then looked carefully at the fingers.

"Not slick enough. Claudia, suck my cock to make it nice and slippery."

It was the most unusual and exciting sexual experience of my life: I was sucking the cock of a female lover, and loving it! In that moment, it didn't matter that the cock was really a vibrator. And it didn't matter that my lover was a woman.

Sexual identities were blurred. I focused on the blue cock and the woman holding it. I sucked away, as thoroughly as I've ever sucked a man's cock. This one didn't get bigger as I sucked, but it did get slippery.

She stuck the vibrator into her mouth to test it. "Claudia, it's slick enough. Spread nice and wide, dear."

Then she started the vibrator buzzing and pushed it slowly into my pussy. "Just close your eyes and go with the flow," she told me.

I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of being fucked by her. I was in another world, one that I hadn't been in before.

Then she increased the speed of the vibrator and pushed it in and out more rapidly. That brought me to the edge of an orgasm, and beyond that edge. I came again! Never before had I been able to orgasm twice within such a short period of time.

It was getting quite late by then, and both of us had to get up early. We kissed and agreed to meet in front of the hotel when the meeting was over, at noon of the following day. I would have my bag packed and ready to go. She wanted to ride to the airport with me.

We held hands during the cab ride to the airport. There was a lot to say, and nothing to be said. It was a time for sharing and not a time for talking.

Then she spoke. "I have next weekend free," she said. "I'd like to visit you in Seattle. The flight is only an hour. Shall I come to Seattle?"

I was thrilled. Of course I wanted her to come visit me.

"Yes, please. You'll stay with me."

I thought about some trivial things: I'd have to get some new towels and washcloths, and clean up the apartment.

We held hands in the boarding area. I didn't care what anybody else thought about two women holding hands. In San Francisco that's not a big deal.

I had to get in line at the gate after the boarding announcement was made. She stood in line with me.

As the line started to move I said, "Please bring me a special present when you come to Seattle."

"A present? What do you want?"

"A strap-on,... please."

She stared at me and laughed. "I'll be sure to bring it with me. See you next weekend."

As the plane climbed I thought about next weekend, and about the strap-on she'd be bringing. Better stock the 'fridge in case we don't get out much.

************

Copyright 2002 by Lesly Sloan. This story may not be distributed or copied without the express permission of the author. All comments are welcome.