Eyl 18


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“You’ve never been with another woman?”

She was young, with big brown eyes; fine, blonde hair; pale, sleek skin; buoyant, bouncy boobs; a narrow waist; a firm, round ass; and long, shapely legs. She wasn’t just my kind of girl; she was a dream girl.

“Nope, nor have I ever been—or would I ever want to be—with a man.”

“How old are you?” It would be just my luck for the dream girl to be jail bait. From the looks of her, she sure as hell could be.

“Twenty-one.” I guess she saw my skepticism. She added, “I look young for my age.”

“Yeah, by at least five years. You got an ID?”

She showed me her driver’s license. If it was a fake, it was a damn good one.

“All I know about sex I learned by watching videos.”

“You’re quite a conversationalist, you know that?”


She hadn’t understood the sarcasm. “Videos?”

She nodded. “On the Internet.”

“About girl-girl sex?”


I all but laughed in her face.

“And now you want to—what?—put your carnal knowledge into practice?”

She nodded.

“That’s why you’re here tonight, in a lesbian bar?”

“That’s right.”

“And you want to come home with me?”

Another nod.

“Why me, in particular?”

“You look like a bull dyke.”

This time, I did laugh in her face. “You can’t go around saying shit like that to people,” I warned her when I saw she was serious.

“Why not?”

“It’s not exactly polite. In fact, it’s downright offensive. If I were a bull dyke, I might just whoop your ass for calling me that.”


I slapped a twenty on the bar. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

I watched her eyes. Face-down in my twat, she lapped my sopping slit, as she looked up at me, her beautiful brown eyes framed by her long, lush lashes. I felt her sleek cheeks against my inner thighs, as she licked my glistening labia like a cat lapping milk. She jiggled her tongue against the lips of my cunt, and I watched her head bob up and down, in quick, short jerks, as if she were nodding. She raised her head, looking me in the eye, and grinned, as I watched the clear juices of my pussy run off the tip of her moist, pink tongue.

Her chin and lower lip disappeared behind the mound of my shaved sex, but, as she licked me, her head rocked back and forth, her chin and mouth appearing escort bursa and vanishing beneath my mons veneris. She turned her head slightly, to lick sideways across my labia, inserting her tongue into my cunt. I felt the appendage inside me, stroking the delicate tissues of my womanhood. She was so delicate in her movements, so ladylike in her devouring of my twat, so exquisitely tender and nurturing in her manner that her care and attention themselves, almost as much as her tongue, aroused me. My nipples were erect, as was the swollen bud of my clit.

Gently, I touched my palm to the side of her face, holding her gaze with my own. She has the loveliest brown eyes, big and innocent as those of a fawn, and, as she looked into my own eyes, I nearly came, knowing she was mine, all mine. Her open mouth clamped down upon my cunt, forming a seal, while her tongue busied itself inside me. Her strokes quickened, but remained tender, each lap a testament to her love and devotion. With my hand, I stroked her hair, the fine strands of her blonde tresses as beautiful to the touch as they were to my eyes.

Her mouth and chin bumped softly against my snatch. Her cheeks brushed my inner thighs. Her lips nuzzled my labia. Her tongue licked and flicked inside me. The tip of her nose pressed into the mound of my flowing sex, indenting its bare, sodden white flesh. As she nursed at my quim, her mouth and chin prodded my sex. She kissed my nether lips. I parted my legs further, as she licked along my womanly furrow, stroking and flicking the hard, swollen nub of my clit. She kissed me on either side of my labia, and then upon the lips, firmly and insistently.

Her tongue formed circles between my labia, Her fingers stroked them, separated them. She pressed her mouth more firmly into my cunt, She shook her head vigorously, as if she were a dog worrying a bone, and paroxysm of joy exploded inside me. My thighs scissored against the sides of her face, as I writhed, moaning, on the bed, which was soaked with my juices.

She eased three fingers into my cunt. Finger-fucking me as she licked my clit, her tongue gliding over the erect bulge, circling it, flicking it. Yes! Yes! Lash me with your tongue!

I squeezed my nipples as I continued to squirm and wriggle, gasping and crying out. Cupping my breasts, I squeezed them, as if they were stress-relief bursa merkez escort balls, but the gesture did not alleviate the tension in my loins. Instead, my passion increased. I squeezed harder, my nipples hard points beneath my arched palms.

Her mouth slid up, over the mound of my sex, her upper lip pressing against the top of my vulva, the lower into its bottom, as she opened and closed her jaws rapidly, as if devouring my sex, her tongue busy, all the while, inside me, as she tasted the deep-pink flesh, red as watermelon, inside my most intimate depths.

Her tongue moved rapidly from side to side within my pussy, her eyes widening. She looked both silly and comically maniacal at the same time, and I would have laughed—or giggled—if the throes or orgasm hadn’t almost been upon me. As it was, the most I could manage was a smile, and even it was short-lived, as pleasure flooded my loins they way they flooded my bed.

I’ve had kneeling women lick me from above and behind as I knelt with them on the floor; from below me, both front and rear, as I straddled their faces; from over my hips, as they lowered their faces into my cunt from the side; from below me, as they sat on my leather couch and I half-sat and half-squatted atop its back, a leg on either side of them. I’ve had women assume many other positions, too, as they ate my pussy. Sometimes, the postures were their ideas; other times, I conceived of the attitudes. Most had performed with gusto, too, but none had ever put her heart and soul, her lips and mouth, and her tongue and teeth into it as much as this woman, the one before me now, had done. With her, eating pussy was more than an art; it was a calling. And it was one at which she was damned good, too—incredibly good! She fed upon the juices of my femininity the way a hummingbird feeds on the nectar of a flower.

“Raise your legs,” she said, “and roll your hips, as if you’re going to pedal a bicycle.”

Surprised, I stared down, past my breasts and tummy and shaved pussy, at her wet, shining face. These were the first words she’d spoken since we’d gotten naked. I was astounded that, when she had spoken, her words conveyed a command, rather than a request. Maybe my little beta babe was turning into an alpha bitch.

Why not humor her? I did as she’d bidden me, and she shocked me bursa escort by jabbing her tongue into my asshole! Licking me back there, fast and furiously, her tongue lapped, circled, thrust, flicked, and plunged into my rectum as carelessly as if she were gorging upon the whipped cream stuffing of a delicious cream puff. Her tongue was wet and wild; it was too much. Orgasm seized me, shook me, damned near drowned me in the tremendous flood of passion that surged through me, through my cunt, my pubes, by breasts, my brain. I rolled from side to side, and my damned legs actually did begin to bicycle, pumping up and down in the air, while my pussy poured forth its warm juices, my asshole fluttered frantically, and I fought for breath. Pleasure exploded inside my nipples, my clit, my cunt. I moaned, groaned, screamed, wept, and whimpered. All the while, she continued to assault my asshole, licking and kissing and tickling and nursing at the small, tight portal of my bowels.

* * *

“Your turn,” I said, when I’d recovered enough to breathe and think and talk.

“I’ve had my turn.”

I frowned. “Don’t you want me to—”


My frown deepened.

“I’m a giver,” she explained, “not a taker.”

I smiled, understanding exactly what she meant. Another lifetime ago, when I was married to Eric, before I’d discovered my true sexuality, I’d been a giver, too. “But tell me the truth: you have been with other women. There’s no way you could learn to do what you do without having been with other women—and lots of them, I’d say.”

“I told you the truth. You’re my first and only.”

“You learned your, uh, considerable skills watching porn?”

“Watching videos, yes.”

Looking skeptical, no doubt, I shook my head. “That’s hard to believe.”

She shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

I halfway believed her. A few moments later, gazing at her wide, innocent eyes, the youthful beauty of her guileless face, and the loveliness of hr fresh, naked body, I did believe her, completely and wholeheartedly. “You’re full of surprises,” I told her.

“Not yet, but I will be. Right now, I’m watching femdom videos. For someone like me, who’s into pleasing rather than being pleased, there are lots of ways besides eating pussy and sucking ass I can bring you pleasure—lots and lots of ways, if you’re up to it.” Her grin, like her tone, was impish.

I drew her toward me, and she laid her head on my shoulder. I loved her, but I’d never tell her. I’d let her think she needed to earn my love each and every day. Thinking of the strap-on dildo I stored in my chest full of “toys,” I told her, “I think you’ll find I’m up to the challenge.”

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