(This is an early draft of the piece that is in finished form here http://alesbiankiss2desire.blogspot.com/p/for-love-of-carrie-hometown-smalltown.html )
Readers ...thank you for continuing to come to my site. I have now received more than 2 dozen emails asking when I was going to post another story. I have been working on several simultaneously ...and I have been trying to perfect my craft to consider the possibility of either publishing or , something completely different, self publishing in another way besides this blog. More than ever before I am going to ask for your feedback on my work. Here are the first two chapters of a lengthy story Ive been working on for months. It eventually gets VERY hot and steamy I assure you ...this is the introductory chapters. WHAT DO YOU THINK?? Do you want more ? Communicate with me by joining my twitter, my facebook, email me, or leave a comment here. Thank you again for appreciating and critiquing my work as it evolves.
For The Love Of Carrie - A Small Town Lesbian Love & Seduction Story
by a kiss2desirecopyright 2011 all rights reserved
Chapter One
Here I was in her home. Two married women, and really polar opposites in almost any way I can think. A moment from tasting a tentative and ultra resistant lesbian kiss that would lead to the kind of all encompassing total abandonment sex that can never be portrayed in any porn or mainstream movie, nor even in this short story where I can only attempt to relate the universe of emotions, warmth and even love in the pussy to pussy pleasures we embarked upon the moment our soft trembling lips met. How we got there, ready to make love, with her first lesbian experience and my fantasy being fulfilled, is the once in a lifetime story of the mutual leaps of faith I triggered and she responded to commencing in the many earth shattering orgasms we'd share and a far more penetrating emotional passion as we bore into each others hearts and souls with our fingers, tongues, and trust.
Carrie was a living the simple life, "SEEMINGLY" (I would find out otherwise) happy in her marriage with no children "yet" and moderately active in our church 25 year old who doesn't have "Miss America" good looks by any means, but with a few freckles, and smallish at no more than 5 ft tall, half a foot shorter than me, and barely half of me in weight, it was her beautiful hair, obviously a bottle blonde with a soft feathery look, and her carefree, independent, "don't fuck with me," (especially with that NRA bumper sticker on her SUV) spirit that began to attract me.
I had seen her flirt as a married woman, with ogling men fairly openly, and with her husband deployed in the Middle East, there had been town cafe rumors and even a memorable veiled Facebook accusation that she had fucked around on him. I would later use this knowledge to my advantage. No question that she enjoys the lustful attention of men, and tries sometimes a little too hard to impress those around her, often to the point of when she begins to weigh in on a conversation, and I don't say this as anyone claiming superiority, shows a severe lack of education or information on the topics she so eagerly wants to comment upon, sometimes embarrassing herself and unavoidably, amusing me. I am among those who can't decide whether to correct her gaffs, of just nod along and say "riiiight." But it's nothing mean spirited on either side, just that one of her traits is that her country girl simplicity often portrays her more of a simpleton, all the while indignantly righteous in her beliefs and oblivious to the perceptions of her. One gets the impression that she is a little too trusting of Fox news.
Having said that, she knows more about the food channel and shopping than anyone does, or could it would appear. Carrie can on one hand talk about what bills she and her husband are unable to pay but still goes through what seems to be at least one designer handbag a month, about which she could do a infomercial for with her enthusiasm for the latest Thirty One or Miche or what have you. And with whatever her flaws, I had always sensed a huge, generous and giving heart with Carrie. She is first with a card for the sick, the plate of food for the mourning family, and the ability to turn a negative into a positive.
And I was attracted to her soul and her body. I fantasized for some time about kissing every one of those freckles on her face, and going in search of every freckle upon her body. As fantasies go, this was among the most unlikely to ever come true, so it was checked into the background of the noise of my constant lesbian sexual urges and crushes. Carrie is one of the most unique women I ever met, simple and I suspected she might be easy prey for men who sought to fuck her and tempt her with an affair, and maybe that was purposeful on her behalf. As I thought of her this way, and my lust smoldered beneath the surface of our many casual exchanges, and as our acquaintance turned to friendship, I began to wonder if a closet lesbian woman such as I might win a game of seduction that would culminate in pure pleasure for us both unlike any man she ever dreamed of .
And one other unmistakeable, but notable trait about Carrie. Something she knew, had been told of, and damn sure didn't care. It was that when she chose her clothes, from casual to church attire, it was loose and low cut, and if she bent over or even leaned forward, you were going to see Carrie's small but firm tits full on down to the pink puffy nipples. Her exhibitionist nature is something we can both stake common ground upon, as I too had chosen most of my clothes based not only upon beauty and comfort and sale price, but also for how much I could show of my 38D cups, an old habit that showed even though I had become more and more lesbian in my self perception in recent years, I still enjoyed the multitude of reactions, from shy and averting eyes to the direct stares my cleavage caused. .
But aside from the fact that I too am a bit eager to show off the puppies and for probably the exact same reasons as she with the exception that I wish it would be the LADIES that would notice, I am on the other hand, much different in body, mind, and style. I'm the tallish, 5'7" chubby. big boobed wide hipped girl who aside from trying to avoid the sands of time, is starting to show a bit of wear and weariness in both my body and attitude. In contrast to Carrie, I probably try a bit too hard to get people to like me, ever compromising, and overly willing to hide many of my true beliefs and feelings , most especially the fact that I live a completely small town straight life while in the body of a raging, dare I say nympho-maniacal lesbian who talks about almost anything else, but unceasingly thinks about sex while being unable to make the overtures towards almost any of the numerous women I come across on any given day. I constantly imagine what it would be like to elicit from each "mini-crush" screams of orgasmic joy. My combined circumstances of A) The joy of motherhood combined with B) The living hell of a husband that I haven't loved nor felt any sexual benefit from in so long it's embarrassing to relate, literally keeps the raging lesbian slut that lives within me in check so that I am properly portrayed as one of the "good girls" in our small community. I am the girl who gets the laughs from sarcastic quips, worries about everything and trusts almost no one. I'm the epitome of of Wal-mart sophistication.
One might wonder how Carrie and I could get along so well and our friendship be blossomed as I am such an opposite of her in so many respects. Carrie: the tiny, bubbly, carefree, outgoing, stringy haired bleach blonde with all her youthful energy. Me, Brenda :the taller, buxom, mid thirties, a bit reserved with people I fear could hurt me woman who keeps quite a few secrets, not the least of which is my closet , however full blown, and neccessarily publicly subdued lesbianism.
When our friendship went from casual acquaintance to something deeper, she, by her very nature, wished to keep no secrets from me, and so it became a matter of time before I would unleash my secret to her...or should I say ON her.
Chapter two:
We became more than just church acquaintances when she had taken note of how many times I had commented on her new purses. She put me in touch with a Thirty-One rep and soon we had matching purses to compare, and as I look back that seemed to be the ice breaker. We weren't on calling and texting terms but over the course of the next few months we were magnets to each other in a couple of casual gatherings, on Sundays where we both were more often than not in attendance at our small Baptist church, and one extremely drunken party, . With each conversation with her I realized I had a crush on her that was growing and I wondered if there would ever be an opening to let he know that, while pondering exactly how huge a chance taking revealing that secret to her would be. Would the major risk every outweigh the benefit? The bigger my crush on her got, the more I started to believe the answer was yes.
It was that drunken Saturday night that might have been the first time I could have walked through that door of saphic revelation. That was the first time the topic of lesbianism came up in conversation. The manager of the Food Lion whom we both know was there as well, and Carrie said, "You know shes a Lezzie don't you ?" "no...how do you know," I said, in the duality of wondering if I might have a chance with the girl I had known originally as the cute cashier, and wondering where Carrie retrieved that information from. She told the story as only Carrie can, beer in hand, with the ever present low cut top and every man and woman near her losing track of the number of times you could casually see her milky white tits.
"Well I was talking with her about a month ago when this great big black woman came up, huge muscles, over six feet tall, I can't tell you how fucking big this woman was...more of a man than any man here I'll tell you, and she says "hold on," and then they gave each other this big hug...REAL close and I'm thinking like "what the hell," but I didn't say nothing, and they're making eyes, she's hugging her around her waist and putting her head on her shoulders...I mean, this is at her WORK, and not hiding a thing. I'm thinking y'all need to get a room, looking like husband and wife...seriously...and it turns out the dyke woman...the butch...the great big black girl??? She's a cop! And she goes, "you know my girlfriend don't you," and then when she knew my jaw was on the floor after the black girl left, she said she'd given up on men and went gay. Thats a quote..."Ive given up on men and gone gay." I mean, whatever but you know there's old people in that there Food Lion that if they knew she was a carpet muncher they'd never shop there again right ?" Her comments and the way she told it sounded like a stand up comedy routine, and the alcohol didn't hurt, as we laughed at the way she told her juicy gossip. It really WAS a surprising thing in our little town to see anyone, at least anyone above a certain age, to act in such a non-conformist way.
I obviously let my lesbian lust enter into the thought process of her story. I couldn't figure out if she was ok with the fact that our friendly well known Food Lion manager was gay but just not that it was with a big black woman or what ? Did she use the slang terms to elicit laughs, or did she harbor true prejudice. Or was she in the mode of protesting so much about the situation that it revealed the topic of lesbian love was on her mind as much as many women who suppress the urge. My drunken mind considered a multitude of reactions, including attempting a crude joke or hinting that lady love was not a problem AT ALL with me, and furthermore wondered if I should drop some major hints at the newly outed woman in case things with the butchy black babe fell through. My contemplations of how to get to know the Food Lion manager better came to the forefront, but nothing came of that. Mostly, the rest of the night, I was dying to know more about Carrie. Trying to find out just what Carrie's thoughts about two women together ...something we all have thought of, but have differing results. Her eyes sure lit up when she told the story ...it was at the very least intriguing to her. It was like I could feel her adrenaline soar when she told that story, but I couldn't be sure if it was the sexual nature of the gossip, or just the fact that it was some VERY juicy small town gossip indeed. As it turns out, the very action of going over and talking to Sheila for a few minutes, without any sparks, allowed a seed to be planted for me and Carrie. " You didn't tell her I told you did you?" Carrie said to me after noticing my private conversation with the woman she had called a "carpet muncher." "Nahh...didn't tell her anything...but then again, I don't think I'm her type...and you DEFINITELY aren't" With the alcohol loosening my content filter, I did manage to stammer out, "She said don't knock it til you tried it," which she didn't really say, and the comment went seemingly unnoticed by Carrie in her own little world. However, I commended myself for sticking a toe into the water of revealing myself as someone not a bit averse to a little carpet munching myself.
Be that as it was, Carrie was creeping into my fantasies and the wheels of my mind were starting to formulate the possibilities with me weighing the pros and cons of risking our friendship and trusting her confidentiality should I be so bold as to just go for it. While I had enjoyed a few casual lesbian liaisons, eight to be precise, 6 of which were one night stands, or more correctly, one afternoon stands as being married and sneaking away made necessary, it had been since high school that I came on to a friend, and that experience hadn't ended well. In fact, it made me gun-shy to come out to anyone so close since, as it destroyed a best friend relationship, caused people to ask questions I couldn't answer, and sent me into a nearly suicidal depression. But as I more and more accepted my lesbianism as an irrefutable fact in my late twenties and more heavily in the past few years, I realized the moratorium on making passes at best friends wasn't going to last forever. And though Carrie just didn't give me the vibe some other women sometimes did, it was the way I looked at her, and the way she trusted me that kept me thinking I might not be able to resist. And, as any closet queer will tell you, as long as it's just fantasy, its safe. But, great was the number of times she'd be prattling on about something of little importance that my mind was wandering towards imagining the taste of her thighs and the feel of my tongue upon those perfectly alluring swollen nipples. Thoughts of her kept growing stronger and one late night I masturbated to orgasm using only Carrie as a muse, my pussy pulsating , throbbing, and truly letting go a deep and powerful one that had been building up as my desire for Carrie had been, ringing my ears I came so very hard, and I formulated belief that I had to know if something sexual or deeper was possible with us.
Chapter Three
And so it went until after a church service on a blue sky Sunday in April we lingered in the parking lot outside the children's swing set while my son played and laughed next to the sanctuary, and Carrie came over to say she was putting out a huge yard sale but if I had time I could come over and go through everything and get first dibs on anything I wanted. I know she considered it a favor because of my economic situation that lent itself to being adept at finding necessities as well as luxuries at yard sales. That week I had some expendable cash and was dying to spend it, and so we made a date for one weekday afternoon. Our friendship was growing, and this was the first time she had ever asked me to her house.
The day arrived and I dressed as close to a pure tramp looking to get picked up at the end of a bar as I thought I could get away with...what I always called my "Fuck Me" look. I drove up wondering if something might happen, that day or ever, with the two of us. But that first day in her home was a bust for my lesbian lust. I went to her living room, got the tour of the two story country home that I admitted to her made me envious, we drank iced tea, I spent around 100 dollars with her saying at every turn things like "well I was going to put that up for $20 but you can have it for ten" and by the time I was walking out the door she was GIVING me name brand, barely used things to take home. While we didn't make love, our friendship took a leap in many ways.
That day we sat in her living room and talked about alot, and it seemed we bonded in spite of some of our differences. As we talked about family, gossiped about people we knew, and shared childhood memories, we both became more comfortable and soon enough the conversation turned to sex. She simply had no filter when it came to any detail of her life when she talked to me...as she would say "Brenda, you are just so easy to talk with...I can tell you anything." That day I was already struggling with the need to put my attraction for her to the back of my "that will never happen" department of my mind. But as the subject of sex was discussed ..and discussed...and discussed at length for it seems for half an hour or better, she told me all there was to know about her marital and pre-marital sexual likes, dislikes, preferences and experiences. I LOVED it, and shared very little because she just kept going and going. It seemed she wanted to tell me everything, and quite a few details as well about her experiences, and she even dropped the bomb and admitted to the affair she had been rumored to have had. She made it seem so innocent. After all, what was a woman who loved cock as much as she claimed to to do while her husband wasn't there. The affair was with a much older gent, and to hear her tell it, she was just doing him a favor. A kiss had turned into making out, and her generous nature prevailed. "Well his dick was just so hard and I just couldn't leave him like that. He just HAD to have relief," she drawled, and how I nodded and went along with agreement of how I would have had to suck him off as well. My confessions were er mostly of that nature, as I confessed as much as I felt comfortable, but not nearly as much as Carrie continued to confess. She made filthy things she said sound sickeningly sweet. "Dontcha just luuuuv the preeecuuummm when it sticks to your lips and makes that string," and I laughed and confided how much I love and even just how very many cocks I've loved sucking over the years. A fly on the wall would have thought we were having a blow job symposium with the techniques and experiences we were sharing. But all through the conversation, I knew that I never had the chance to say anything of the sort, but my mind was shouting the words "PLEASE LET ME EAT YOUR PUSSY TODAY. " I guess she couldn't' read my mind. I was thinking so much of her in a sexual way that I was numb and unable to act in a bit of stage fright. The moment was clearly there, but I couldn't seem to find just the right opening to say something like "oral with a guy is great, but have you ever gone down on a woman ?"
But as the afternoon sun streamed into the room illuminating the dust particles that floated about in her quaint country home, over lemonade and her homemade cheese dip for crackers, how this long discussion og the most heterosexual of the female sexual experience, somehow it paved the way for the lesbian understanding we would eventually have as being so eager to please as lovers.
She talked about her husbands Tom's enormous size, girth, and how she knew how to give the best head in the world thanks to a cousin (cliche or not ..its true) who had instructed her at an early age. I freely shared some cock sucking techniques with her and our notes compared favorably. She would ask a question about my husband and I like "do y'all do anything kinky," for which I told her the relative truth that my husband and I just don't have sex much at all, but her real reason for asking would be that she wanted to share her kinky stories with me, which included quite a lot of outdoor fucking and sucking. "Give me a n a soft bed, " I objected and exemplified our differences, "....and sometimes in the backseat," I offered giggling. It was a randy, somewhat sisterly conversation that I truly loved and was entertained by. And anytime I I talk sex with a girl, even though I don't come right out and admit my lesbian desires and experiences, I try to leave a little bread crumb trail for someone to connect the dots if they are looking. I blush when admitting "the only sex partner I have had lately is my right hand and sometimes I cheat on that lover with the shower head," to which she replied enthusiastically "I've done that too," and then at some point when she talked about their dirty movies I confessed "I watch a lot of stuff on the internet ..its just filthy porn ya know ...but, actually, I enjoy reading erotica much more," She said "maybe you'll have to show me some of those websites," I replied "well...the sites I go to might not be for everyone," for which I didn't inspire a follow up question, so that one just laid there. Yet...connect the dots right ? Well, the picture wasn't in focus enough for us yet.
Lets just say that the first meeting with us was an icebreaker and in between the first meeting and the second, I pretty much made up my mind to take a chance and make a bold pass at her if the circumstances were right. It had been so very long since I had been with a woman that I was going crazy. Almost drunken with lesbian lust on a daily basis, my fantasies run free and the more I thought about Carrie, the more I thought it just might be a chance worth taking. Many risks, including being outed at church. But I masturbated daily thinking of Carrie, and the next time we set up a time to hang out at her house on a weekday afternoon, this time to watch one of my favorites movies she had on her DVR, it was like setting up a date. The movie was a silly one, "The Little Mermaid," of all things, but she said in her country accent "I have that movie permanently saved on DVR ..I know all the words," and I said "I do too," what followed was easy, "you gotta come over and watch it this week, what day are you off," as if she would not take no for an answer. I loved that she enjoyed our friendship to extend it to this slumber party like get together...but I was determined that it would be more, or nothing at all.
I headed to her home not 10 minutes away and down an unpaved road thinking and plotting and planning and wondering. I went from being bold in my thoughts and saying to myself," Just kiss her, just go for it," to completely chickening out with good reason in the knowledge that I truly had too much to lose if she didn't respond to me.
Back up to her home that afternoon, back in Fuck Me attire, back in her living room with the dust particles again in the air and the homemade snack straight from the kitchen of the would be next great Food Channel star, we chit chatted...we poured more lemonade, ...we talked about her beautiful plants and the weather and everything that's both interesting and boring at the same time. We took our places on her couch on opposite sides as the movie began and I was relaxed and feeling no pressure to make or move or not. I love this movie enough and to share it with someone who shared my enthusiasm for it was plenty of excitement for the day...if that were all that were to happen. And, I realized, if not today, perhaps another day. During the movie we shared a couple of crude comments that included "he likes her cause she's always wet," and some things like that made it fun to watch a childish movie with an adult mind. But there was a point where she said something like "Tom always says at this point that all women taste like tuna..he thinks that's so fucking funny," and I said "Oh thats just wrong," and laughed, "they do NOT," perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and then said as if trying to be cute, in a fairly frivolous little girlish voice came my BIG MOVE in saying "pussy tastes like rainbow skittles...nothing at all like tuna." We both laughed out-loud, the thought of what I just admitted out loud caused the shock wave that went through me. I had done it ..and now what would the reaction be ?
Well the earth did not immediately move off of it's axis.
A few more minutes of the movie went by while my mind raced as I made a decision based on attraction, opportunity, and horniness to be more bold. But the way to move in on her was (as it always is with me) a lost cause as my mind frantically searched for a way to turn it up a notch. Why did she not say ANYTHING. I knew damn good and well she was THINKING about what I said. It was obvious and begged a response of "how do you know."
"Hey Carrie, can we pause this a second, I gotta go pee," and as I excused myself from the other side of the couch as her I walked in front of her and admired her beauty again, looked into her eyes and said "ya havin fun with this ?" and when she said "sure, aren't you ?" Her voice was a bit nervous and quivery and I knew I was right...she WAS thinking about what I said. I picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze and said "It's not the most fun we can have," and stared right into her eyes waiting for a reaction. There was very little, just a blank stare that was as if to say "what are you up to," but after the few seconds of silence I let go of her hand and made my way to the bathroom. It was there that after I pee'd I checked my look and made sure my hair and makeup were the best they could be under the circumstances, I felt I had given enough of a hint for her to think about some things. One final check before re-entering the living room, I pushed up my boobs and straightened myself out, and walked out determined to change my life, and hers, forever.
Chapter Four
Back on the couch, as soon as she started the movie, I didn't ask permission, I laid down with my head on her lap, adjusted myself and got comfortable and noted her slight discomfort her saying "oooooh kay ?" and I am already getting wet cause perhaps I am the only one of the two of us in the room that knows where its going to end up, or at least hoping for it, but i am loving it and feeling empowered. Looking back I was wayyyy overconfident in my seduction, but it sure came out ok in the end.
My head on her thigh against the fabric of her jeans, a couple of times I lazily stroked her thigh, an act that didnt define a lesbian commitment yet, but opened the door to the maybe's in her mind. I felt her stroke my hair and complimented me on how soft my thick mane was, and as the tension mounted in the room my adrenaline was rising awaiting the moment I would reveal my intentions.
The credits rolled and I turned around to my other side, facing away from the TV and looked up at her, and she looked down at me and smiled, but was truly confused. Then I kissed the zipper of her jeans---kinda of quickly...but defitely kissing her pussy through her pants and looked up and went "mmmmm tastes like skittles," and she laughed uncontrollably. We giggled. I sat up but instead of going to the other end of the couch, I sat facing her directly, pulling my knee up on the couch, and looking her in the eye.
"Carrie...I gotta tell you something," and she smiled a friendly smile and drawled "Whut?" and in the few seconds that transpired the nervous smile she had evaporated slowly to a more serious "tell me" kind of look. I am pretty sure I built enough dramatic tension for her to realize I was about to drop a bomb on her. My left hand placed upon her thigh, my right arm raised until my fingers entwined in her golden bleach blond hair, I broke eye contact, looked downward and stated, "Carrie, it don't taste like skittles, and honey, I know about that more than you realize...I know exactly what it tastes like, and I LIKE it," I waited a few seconds, still looking down before raising my head to pounce upon her lips, so unexpectedly, but purposefully, so softly. She stiffened and resisted in such a way that I was kissing and feeling passion for her sweet, soft, small lips. But she was not kissing back, and a slight opening gave me a moment to slide my tongue inside for just a peck, and just as I felt her start to melt a bit, she pulled away. We shared the inevitable, stereotypical "what the hell was that" stare off into each others eyes.
"I ...." I stammered for a moment and for the right choice of the million words I had dreamed of saying at this moment, " I have been wanting to make love to you for a very long time. You are the most beautiful girl, and I just can't resist those baby doll eyes any more. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I want to make love to you and show you how much fun two women can have together...if you'll let me." and I squeezed her thigh formidably "will you let me ?"
No words came from her mouth, if not a horrified look it was certainly the look of surprise, I stroked her thigh and ran my fingers through her hair.
She was completely motionless, not daring to make a move...neither of acceptance, but most importantly, nothing of resistance. Not knowing what to do she was frozen, and then her eyes closed, she stretched out an arm to put it on my shoulder, inviting but maintaining plausible deniability, not willing to make a sexual gesture, but not putting up a stop sign. I tugged on her hair gently and moved down to stroke her shoulder, then downward towards her chest, and traced the V of her V-neck, knowing her skin was tingling at my touch, and then I lowered my head this time not to kiss her lips, but to open my warm mouth widely and gently begin to suck upon the nape of her neck. She teetered a bit towards me and I felt the first signs of her resistance begin to crumble, and I caressed her ever so slowly while tasting her skin as a delicacy to be savored.
Finally she uttered a thought aloud with bewildered indignance. "I didn't know you was a lesbian" she said in her thick country southern drawl. I laughed a little as a reaction, and continuing to kiss against her neck as I responded "Nobody knows but Carrie how can I resist how beautiful you are. You are so beautiful...so pretty..." and then opening my mouth wider to suck more passionately upon her neck, "...and you smell SO good..." and then pulling her closer to me and adding passion to my kiss upon her neck...."and you taste sooooo good...soo good Carrie I want to taste you alllllll over"
This time our mouths met with her permission. She tried kissing me back with her inexperienced mouth. It felt awkward...though not without passion or potential, but I could feel alot of hesitation and doubt in that kiss. She held back so much that I decided not to force the issue...at least not that moment. There was still so much fear in every moment between the two of us ..her fear because of the surprise of what was unfolding and how unsure of what was coming, and me in fear that something so delicious, so erotic and something I wanted so badly to continue could be taken away if she withdrew her fragile state of submission to the pass I was making at her. I realized I was in a bit of a competition with her mind, and perhaps even her perceived morals. I knew among the thoughts pinging back and forth in her brain that she was considering a multitude of factors and senses and history... not the least of which that this was both of us cheating on our spouses, that this was homosexuality, that this was something she had no idea was going to happen, and perhaps the most insecure thought that I realized was that if there even was a lesbian bone in her body, perhaps it wasn't even attracted to a woman like me.
I gauged every signal. Her rigidness, tenseness and inability to or refusal to relax were negatives I plotted to overcome with my mind racing to invent ways to simultaneously pleasure her and assure her while not losing the moment. I wanted to fuck her, not rape her. I wanted this afternoon to be the first of many times, not the only time. My mind screamed to say the words "I'll stop if you want to," but I did not dare actually SAY that, because I selfishly felt I was far beyond being able to stop and refused to give her such an easy way out if she was contemplating it. On the other hand, she was clearly letting me do as I pleased, and while not passionately responding, her breathing was unmistakeably aroused, her body trembled, and her lack of either verbally or physically stopping the music I was making on her skin encouraged me to further my mission.
Carrie knew me as her companion, friend, and movie buddy. But I breathed into her as a passionate lover, a knee jerk difference from anything she ever saw of me before, and might not have ever dreamed of, as I continued to persuade her with my mouth, hands, and moaning into her skin "I want to make you feel so good ...sooooo good Carrie...relax and let me love your beautiful body. "
When I make out with a woman, my right hand has this mind of it's own and can't resist gravitating towards a breast. I have noticed this trait over the years, in that I think I want to make out more and save some of those breast sensations for later, but almost involuntarily, my lips upon a woman and the right hand goes to encircle a breast and introduce itself to the nipple upon it. In Carrie's case, her left breast within the thin fabric of her bra veiled by the faded cotton university V neck T shirt she wore received my touch, a squeeze and gentle lift of her small but firm B cup, and as my thumb wiped over the nipple area, I felt the definite response of her nipple stiffening and previewing something my mouth would eventually come to know. She had enormously and unusually long nipples, and easily the most sensitive and responsive to touch. I was wildly turned on to feel this response from her body, her nipple jutting out as much as it did, and in that moment I felt her soften and the allowance of my intrusion to not only her body, but, her expectations as well.
There at exact moment of the first over her clothes contact with her breast as my lips continued to kiss and lick her neck, I received two verbal green lights to go from Carrie. The first was a rapid exhale that almost seemed combined with disgust, either in me or herself, but nonetheless had me ready to recoil should she back away, but then she said tensely and through gritted teeth "You just keep on going don't you. " She sounded like she was ACCUSING me of something hideous. "Mmmm yeah," I moaned into her neck. " You just ain't gonna stop ," to which I responded with a deeper moan with more tongue against her skin and another exquisite grasp more firmly of her breast. It was difficult for me to form words but managed "I want to make love to you so much...you re so beautiful." With her breathing unable to hide how her body was responding any longer, she panted, "If you don't tell nobody, (and she paused for around 10 seconds) I don't want you to stop ...but you gotta know something." I stopped kissing her neck and rose up to look int her eyes, my hand removed from her breast to gently caress her back and bring her body against me. She broke our gaze to look away, as if she thought she was disappointing me, her accent more pronounced, "I don't think I'm ready to eat your pussy" I thought to myself "So thats the holdup," but responded by pulling her close and saying "Oh Carrie, that is soooo not what this is about. I want to make love to YOU, understand ?" "But I'm not no lesbian," she said, determined to be able to deny the existence of our passion if she needed to for her souls sake, and I almost laughed in both amusement at her simplicity in the matter, and relief in that the game I'd been playing the last half hour to seduce her had been won. "All I care about is your pleasure ...nothing else matters," I reassured her, and pure joy swept over me in victory that went deeper than my desire to create her ultimate response.
All of this initial resistance is such a sweet memory to me. Because I always felt like there was a very sexual, sensual woman beneath the exterior she projected. The man crazy woman I had known was putting up a hell of a fight, but the woman she became began to be unveiled in the moments and minutes, in the throes of the multiple orgasms she was about to experience like none she'd ever known before, and the cries and wails and digging nails that followed that afternoon in the ultimate release of my sapphic seduction of her came to fruition.
As I approached her lips with my open mouth to kiss her once again, her eyes remained open as did mine, but they were as soft slits as though awaiting something delicious, and this time her mouth parted to welcome my darting tongue. Her tongue swirled around mine and our arms moved naturally to embrace. I didn't let up in the kiss and let it linger and linger some more, until when we broke she commented breathlessly "your lips are so fucking soft....damn thats soft,' and I replied, "you like it don't you ?" "Yeah I like it," she reluctantly admitted. And as though it were a demand, "again!." It was a one word and barely audible request I obliged with with my hungry mouth, once again adding a palm against her firm breast, once again feeling her nipple springing to life in response to my touch. (end of chapter four)
Chapter Five
HER NIPPLES. Oh how the first moments I focused my vision on up close, felt between my thumb and finger, and especially the first moments of feeling her stiff nipple between my lips ...these are almost sacred moments to me. I had seen them quickly before in the revelations of her outfits, but fully excited, her nipples fully protruded at least a full inch, sticking straight out almost exaggerated and even (oh gawd I can't believe I will write this) cartoonishly long. But...NOT grotesque...not in the least. Just the longest nipples I ever saw counting Phys Ed showers and movies, and even though I've seen full, long and freakish nipples on the internet, until hers were so close to me, I never imagined such a thing as being something I'd experience. And it is the most exciting thing I ever felt and took me back to the first time I ever touched a throbbing penis or kissed a wet pussy, feeling her nipples respond and her body respond to the sucking and licking I gave them that day will forever stay with me and haunt me so.
When sucking her nipple, her body would quake gently, her excitement level unmistakably heightened with each original suck or lick or graze of my teeth. I am not a biter until I KNOW a woman wants that, but show me the signs or make the request and I will pinch them til they almost bleed if its what gets a woman off. But for Carrie, my ministrations towards her tits were passionate, but on the gentle side. My mouth is all over her breasts with the milky white skin and the wonderful dark pink confection I gobbled and slurped on to the delight of both of us. "Oh baby you are SO good at this," she gasped between breaths and soft moans while her fingernails gently dug into me at the neck and shoulders.
While this is happening the constant beat of my pulsating pussy has me grinding against her, and the knowledge that her own sweet clit was throbbing awaiting the warmth of my tongue and lips and was certainly already building to the first of her orgasms. I swirled my tongue on her nipple and around the areola, to the soft underside my mouth would wander while my hands grasped, squeezed and lifted, or alternately, fingertip stroked her skin and her other nipple. When I sucked on her left one and pinched the other one her body would writhe, her sweat soft high pitched moan would make me deliriously "sex drunk" , and when I could feel what I was doing to her in a given moment was really sending her, my own moan would accompany hers. While not stroking her side or other breast, my hand worked its way through her soft hair. Then, while it was almost a difficult thing to detach my lips from upon her tit, while I sucked and sucked like I could NOT get enough, I needed the kiss of her lips and the taste of her tongue more for a moment and rose up to meet her mouth, which kissed me so deeply and passionately that I fell with all my weight half on her and half on the bed. When breasts are against naked soft breasts, it is the most wonderful and delightful thing where each of us knows how good it is as just a zing of excitement and the knowledge of "I know what you are feeling" in both of our minds. But her stiff nipple protruding so sharply into my soft big breast, and then my own pointed nipple grazing against hers, and this happening by accident, or perhaps by soulmate fate, riled me head to toe. I then sought out to duplicate that feeling purposely, rising up to hang my boobs dangling onto hers, laying on her back, our eyes met and she gave me a mischevious "I know what you are about to do" look, and our nipples grazed, and bumped, and smooshed against one another. that feeling wasnt enough and so I grabbed my tit and guided it up and down. Her hand joined mine, first upon my tit, and then she grabbed and squeezed her own so sexy, and we rubbed our erect nipples against each other slowly, but wonderfully, in a way that I never had done before with a woman, and t admit that I have seen it done in sex vids and it turned me on would be an understatement, but I never saw women do it and enjoy it as long as we did, which was probably closer to three minutes than two. It felt so good I didnt want to stop and she was loving it too. Plus, doing this gave us a bit of a break from all my mouth wqas doing as it had been wandering from breast to neck to nipple to her sides and sometimes to kiss a hand, forearm, or even to suck on her finger. My mission was to drive her wild with my mouth, but truthfully, she had only been with men before, and men had mouths. But in this moment, we were doing a purely lesbian thing, and while my mouth rested my mind churned, plotted, and planned for her pleasure.
As I was sitting up over her with our tits kissing, I was loving her beauty, and loving seeing her so turned on. I knew my wetness was spilling and felt the first wet drop trickle out of me and down my leg...a typical response for me which I will write more about later. But as for this moment, it was seeing her chest rise up and down with her heavy breathing matching my own, neither of us knowing words to say, but saying everything. Her fear was still evident, but she was not only giving into me, but participating and truly having sex with me. Touching my breast a bit, feeling its pliability, looking into my eyes with a "don't stop" mentality evident, a "whats next" trust evident as well, and one more time I lowered my lips to her tit and sucked it good, with her moaning again under me, her hands grabbing onto my shoulders and back, and then on my own breast. I lifted my leg to over hers and mounted her thigh with my soaking cunt while opening my mouth as wide as could be for the deepest of french kisses where she gently sucked my tongue. Waves of electricity shot through me.
Now with all this play upon her incredible tits, and all the excitement growing, I had purposefully avoided her pussy. Why ? Deep down I know I wanted her to ask for it ..maybe even beg for it. As I grinded into her with my wet lips and stiff clit letting me know I was going to come if I pushed for it, I restrained and slowed down, and made our love sweet and slow. Her thigh met my gyrations and my thigh got into her mons and we started a rythm. Her moans were starting to gravitate towards the loss of control whimpers, and I was completely proud of myself. But I was also SO hungry for her pussy. And I was going to go down on her any second. But it wouldnt be the same story if she hadnt asked...hadn't begged....but ...she did.
There is a moment in Wizard of Oz when you are excited and you know its going to be good and everything is great and on its path, but its stll not what you came for. Then, Dorothy Gale opens the door after the tornado, and suddenly, EVERY COLOR APPEARS, and it is SO right. And making love with Carrie took that turn...when it seems the whole thing seems to change color.
Carrie took my right hand and squeezed it so tightly it slightly hurt, but a pain that I knew was her communicating to me in the throes of passion that she felt passion. I didn't think for a second she was going to stop me. And after she released the hard pressure with all her strenght in holding my hand, she pushed it straight down her body, over her left tit and still stiff nipple, and and put my hand on her soaking wet swollen lips, where I immediately found and gave my first stroke to her clit, her lips so moist they sucked my finger inside, and she gasped and sighed deeply, and when I heard these words come out of her mouth desperately but with both desire and most importantly, a command, it was like that moment in Wizard of Oz...everything changed in the sound of her words that will forever echo in my mind.
"Brenda....PLEASE," she wailed, "Please fuck me with your fucking tongue...NOW...Eat my pussy," she commanded and then acquiesced from her further restriction, "and I'll eat yours too."
Readers ...thank you for continuing to come to my site. I have now received more than 2 dozen emails asking when I was going to post another story. I have been working on several simultaneously ...and I have been trying to perfect my craft to consider the possibility of either publishing or , something completely different, self publishing in another way besides this blog. More than ever before I am going to ask for your feedback on my work. Here are the first two chapters of a lengthy story Ive been working on for months. It eventually gets VERY hot and steamy I assure you ...this is the introductory chapters. WHAT DO YOU THINK?? Do you want more ? Communicate with me by joining my twitter, my facebook, email me, or leave a comment here. Thank you again for appreciating and critiquing my work as it evolves.
by a kiss2desire
Chapter One
Here I was in her home. Two married women, and really polar opposites in almost any way I can think. A moment from tasting a tentative and ultra resistant lesbian kiss that would lead to the kind of all encompassing total abandonment sex that can never be portrayed in any porn or mainstream movie, nor even in this short story where I can only attempt to relate the universe of emotions, warmth and even love in the pussy to pussy pleasures we embarked upon the moment our soft trembling lips met. How we got there, ready to make love, with her first lesbian experience and my fantasy being fulfilled, is the once in a lifetime story of the mutual leaps of faith I triggered and she responded to commencing in the many earth shattering orgasms we'd share and a far more penetrating emotional passion as we bore into each others hearts and souls with our fingers, tongues, and trust.
Carrie was a living the simple life, "SEEMINGLY" (I would find out otherwise) happy in her marriage with no children "yet" and moderately active in our church 25 year old who doesn't have "Miss America" good looks by any means, but with a few freckles, and smallish at no more than 5 ft tall, half a foot shorter than me, and barely half of me in weight, it was her beautiful hair, obviously a bottle blonde with a soft feathery look, and her carefree, independent, "don't fuck with me," (especially with that NRA bumper sticker on her SUV) spirit that began to attract me.
I had seen her flirt as a married woman, with ogling men fairly openly, and with her husband deployed in the Middle East, there had been town cafe rumors and even a memorable veiled Facebook accusation that she had fucked around on him. I would later use this knowledge to my advantage. No question that she enjoys the lustful attention of men, and tries sometimes a little too hard to impress those around her, often to the point of when she begins to weigh in on a conversation, and I don't say this as anyone claiming superiority, shows a severe lack of education or information on the topics she so eagerly wants to comment upon, sometimes embarrassing herself and unavoidably, amusing me. I am among those who can't decide whether to correct her gaffs, of just nod along and say "riiiight." But it's nothing mean spirited on either side, just that one of her traits is that her country girl simplicity often portrays her more of a simpleton, all the while indignantly righteous in her beliefs and oblivious to the perceptions of her. One gets the impression that she is a little too trusting of Fox news.
Having said that, she knows more about the food channel and shopping than anyone does, or could it would appear. Carrie can on one hand talk about what bills she and her husband are unable to pay but still goes through what seems to be at least one designer handbag a month, about which she could do a infomercial for with her enthusiasm for the latest Thirty One or Miche or what have you. And with whatever her flaws, I had always sensed a huge, generous and giving heart with Carrie. She is first with a card for the sick, the plate of food for the mourning family, and the ability to turn a negative into a positive.
And I was attracted to her soul and her body. I fantasized for some time about kissing every one of those freckles on her face, and going in search of every freckle upon her body. As fantasies go, this was among the most unlikely to ever come true, so it was checked into the background of the noise of my constant lesbian sexual urges and crushes. Carrie is one of the most unique women I ever met, simple and I suspected she might be easy prey for men who sought to fuck her and tempt her with an affair, and maybe that was purposeful on her behalf. As I thought of her this way, and my lust smoldered beneath the surface of our many casual exchanges, and as our acquaintance turned to friendship, I began to wonder if a closet lesbian woman such as I might win a game of seduction that would culminate in pure pleasure for us both unlike any man she ever dreamed of .
And one other unmistakeable, but notable trait about Carrie. Something she knew, had been told of, and damn sure didn't care. It was that when she chose her clothes, from casual to church attire, it was loose and low cut, and if she bent over or even leaned forward, you were going to see Carrie's small but firm tits full on down to the pink puffy nipples. Her exhibitionist nature is something we can both stake common ground upon, as I too had chosen most of my clothes based not only upon beauty and comfort and sale price, but also for how much I could show of my 38D cups, an old habit that showed even though I had become more and more lesbian in my self perception in recent years, I still enjoyed the multitude of reactions, from shy and averting eyes to the direct stares my cleavage caused. .
But aside from the fact that I too am a bit eager to show off the puppies and for probably the exact same reasons as she with the exception that I wish it would be the LADIES that would notice, I am on the other hand, much different in body, mind, and style. I'm the tallish, 5'7" chubby. big boobed wide hipped girl who aside from trying to avoid the sands of time, is starting to show a bit of wear and weariness in both my body and attitude. In contrast to Carrie, I probably try a bit too hard to get people to like me, ever compromising, and overly willing to hide many of my true beliefs and feelings , most especially the fact that I live a completely small town straight life while in the body of a raging, dare I say nympho-maniacal lesbian who talks about almost anything else, but unceasingly thinks about sex while being unable to make the overtures towards almost any of the numerous women I come across on any given day. I constantly imagine what it would be like to elicit from each "mini-crush" screams of orgasmic joy. My combined circumstances of A) The joy of motherhood combined with B) The living hell of a husband that I haven't loved nor felt any sexual benefit from in so long it's embarrassing to relate, literally keeps the raging lesbian slut that lives within me in check so that I am properly portrayed as one of the "good girls" in our small community. I am the girl who gets the laughs from sarcastic quips, worries about everything and trusts almost no one. I'm the epitome of of Wal-mart sophistication.
One might wonder how Carrie and I could get along so well and our friendship be blossomed as I am such an opposite of her in so many respects. Carrie: the tiny, bubbly, carefree, outgoing, stringy haired bleach blonde with all her youthful energy. Me, Brenda :the taller, buxom, mid thirties, a bit reserved with people I fear could hurt me woman who keeps quite a few secrets, not the least of which is my closet , however full blown, and neccessarily publicly subdued lesbianism.
When our friendship went from casual acquaintance to something deeper, she, by her very nature, wished to keep no secrets from me, and so it became a matter of time before I would unleash my secret to her...or should I say ON her.
Chapter two:
We became more than just church acquaintances when she had taken note of how many times I had commented on her new purses. She put me in touch with a Thirty-One rep and soon we had matching purses to compare, and as I look back that seemed to be the ice breaker. We weren't on calling and texting terms but over the course of the next few months we were magnets to each other in a couple of casual gatherings, on Sundays where we both were more often than not in attendance at our small Baptist church, and one extremely drunken party, . With each conversation with her I realized I had a crush on her that was growing and I wondered if there would ever be an opening to let he know that, while pondering exactly how huge a chance taking revealing that secret to her would be. Would the major risk every outweigh the benefit? The bigger my crush on her got, the more I started to believe the answer was yes.
It was that drunken Saturday night that might have been the first time I could have walked through that door of saphic revelation. That was the first time the topic of lesbianism came up in conversation. The manager of the Food Lion whom we both know was there as well, and Carrie said, "You know shes a Lezzie don't you ?" "no...how do you know," I said, in the duality of wondering if I might have a chance with the girl I had known originally as the cute cashier, and wondering where Carrie retrieved that information from. She told the story as only Carrie can, beer in hand, with the ever present low cut top and every man and woman near her losing track of the number of times you could casually see her milky white tits.
"Well I was talking with her about a month ago when this great big black woman came up, huge muscles, over six feet tall, I can't tell you how fucking big this woman was...more of a man than any man here I'll tell you, and she says "hold on," and then they gave each other this big hug...REAL close and I'm thinking like "what the hell," but I didn't say nothing, and they're making eyes, she's hugging her around her waist and putting her head on her shoulders...I mean, this is at her WORK, and not hiding a thing. I'm thinking y'all need to get a room, looking like husband and wife...seriously...and it turns out the dyke woman...the butch...the great big black girl??? She's a cop! And she goes, "you know my girlfriend don't you," and then when she knew my jaw was on the floor after the black girl left, she said she'd given up on men and went gay. Thats a quote..."Ive given up on men and gone gay." I mean, whatever but you know there's old people in that there Food Lion that if they knew she was a carpet muncher they'd never shop there again right ?" Her comments and the way she told it sounded like a stand up comedy routine, and the alcohol didn't hurt, as we laughed at the way she told her juicy gossip. It really WAS a surprising thing in our little town to see anyone, at least anyone above a certain age, to act in such a non-conformist way.
I obviously let my lesbian lust enter into the thought process of her story. I couldn't figure out if she was ok with the fact that our friendly well known Food Lion manager was gay but just not that it was with a big black woman or what ? Did she use the slang terms to elicit laughs, or did she harbor true prejudice. Or was she in the mode of protesting so much about the situation that it revealed the topic of lesbian love was on her mind as much as many women who suppress the urge. My drunken mind considered a multitude of reactions, including attempting a crude joke or hinting that lady love was not a problem AT ALL with me, and furthermore wondered if I should drop some major hints at the newly outed woman in case things with the butchy black babe fell through. My contemplations of how to get to know the Food Lion manager better came to the forefront, but nothing came of that. Mostly, the rest of the night, I was dying to know more about Carrie. Trying to find out just what Carrie's thoughts about two women together ...something we all have thought of, but have differing results. Her eyes sure lit up when she told the story ...it was at the very least intriguing to her. It was like I could feel her adrenaline soar when she told that story, but I couldn't be sure if it was the sexual nature of the gossip, or just the fact that it was some VERY juicy small town gossip indeed. As it turns out, the very action of going over and talking to Sheila for a few minutes, without any sparks, allowed a seed to be planted for me and Carrie. " You didn't tell her I told you did you?" Carrie said to me after noticing my private conversation with the woman she had called a "carpet muncher." "Nahh...didn't tell her anything...but then again, I don't think I'm her type...and you DEFINITELY aren't" With the alcohol loosening my content filter, I did manage to stammer out, "She said don't knock it til you tried it," which she didn't really say, and the comment went seemingly unnoticed by Carrie in her own little world. However, I commended myself for sticking a toe into the water of revealing myself as someone not a bit averse to a little carpet munching myself.
Be that as it was, Carrie was creeping into my fantasies and the wheels of my mind were starting to formulate the possibilities with me weighing the pros and cons of risking our friendship and trusting her confidentiality should I be so bold as to just go for it. While I had enjoyed a few casual lesbian liaisons, eight to be precise, 6 of which were one night stands, or more correctly, one afternoon stands as being married and sneaking away made necessary, it had been since high school that I came on to a friend, and that experience hadn't ended well. In fact, it made me gun-shy to come out to anyone so close since, as it destroyed a best friend relationship, caused people to ask questions I couldn't answer, and sent me into a nearly suicidal depression. But as I more and more accepted my lesbianism as an irrefutable fact in my late twenties and more heavily in the past few years, I realized the moratorium on making passes at best friends wasn't going to last forever. And though Carrie just didn't give me the vibe some other women sometimes did, it was the way I looked at her, and the way she trusted me that kept me thinking I might not be able to resist. And, as any closet queer will tell you, as long as it's just fantasy, its safe. But, great was the number of times she'd be prattling on about something of little importance that my mind was wandering towards imagining the taste of her thighs and the feel of my tongue upon those perfectly alluring swollen nipples. Thoughts of her kept growing stronger and one late night I masturbated to orgasm using only Carrie as a muse, my pussy pulsating , throbbing, and truly letting go a deep and powerful one that had been building up as my desire for Carrie had been, ringing my ears I came so very hard, and I formulated belief that I had to know if something sexual or deeper was possible with us.
Chapter Three
And so it went until after a church service on a blue sky Sunday in April we lingered in the parking lot outside the children's swing set while my son played and laughed next to the sanctuary, and Carrie came over to say she was putting out a huge yard sale but if I had time I could come over and go through everything and get first dibs on anything I wanted. I know she considered it a favor because of my economic situation that lent itself to being adept at finding necessities as well as luxuries at yard sales. That week I had some expendable cash and was dying to spend it, and so we made a date for one weekday afternoon. Our friendship was growing, and this was the first time she had ever asked me to her house.
The day arrived and I dressed as close to a pure tramp looking to get picked up at the end of a bar as I thought I could get away with...what I always called my "Fuck Me" look. I drove up wondering if something might happen, that day or ever, with the two of us. But that first day in her home was a bust for my lesbian lust. I went to her living room, got the tour of the two story country home that I admitted to her made me envious, we drank iced tea, I spent around 100 dollars with her saying at every turn things like "well I was going to put that up for $20 but you can have it for ten" and by the time I was walking out the door she was GIVING me name brand, barely used things to take home. While we didn't make love, our friendship took a leap in many ways.
That day we sat in her living room and talked about alot, and it seemed we bonded in spite of some of our differences. As we talked about family, gossiped about people we knew, and shared childhood memories, we both became more comfortable and soon enough the conversation turned to sex. She simply had no filter when it came to any detail of her life when she talked to me...as she would say "Brenda, you are just so easy to talk with...I can tell you anything." That day I was already struggling with the need to put my attraction for her to the back of my "that will never happen" department of my mind. But as the subject of sex was discussed ..and discussed...and discussed at length for it seems for half an hour or better, she told me all there was to know about her marital and pre-marital sexual likes, dislikes, preferences and experiences. I LOVED it, and shared very little because she just kept going and going. It seemed she wanted to tell me everything, and quite a few details as well about her experiences, and she even dropped the bomb and admitted to the affair she had been rumored to have had. She made it seem so innocent. After all, what was a woman who loved cock as much as she claimed to to do while her husband wasn't there. The affair was with a much older gent, and to hear her tell it, she was just doing him a favor. A kiss had turned into making out, and her generous nature prevailed. "Well his dick was just so hard and I just couldn't leave him like that. He just HAD to have relief," she drawled, and how I nodded and went along with agreement of how I would have had to suck him off as well. My confessions were er mostly of that nature, as I confessed as much as I felt comfortable, but not nearly as much as Carrie continued to confess. She made filthy things she said sound sickeningly sweet. "Dontcha just luuuuv the preeecuuummm when it sticks to your lips and makes that string," and I laughed and confided how much I love and even just how very many cocks I've loved sucking over the years. A fly on the wall would have thought we were having a blow job symposium with the techniques and experiences we were sharing. But all through the conversation, I knew that I never had the chance to say anything of the sort, but my mind was shouting the words "PLEASE LET ME EAT YOUR PUSSY TODAY. " I guess she couldn't' read my mind. I was thinking so much of her in a sexual way that I was numb and unable to act in a bit of stage fright. The moment was clearly there, but I couldn't seem to find just the right opening to say something like "oral with a guy is great, but have you ever gone down on a woman ?"
But as the afternoon sun streamed into the room illuminating the dust particles that floated about in her quaint country home, over lemonade and her homemade cheese dip for crackers, how this long discussion og the most heterosexual of the female sexual experience, somehow it paved the way for the lesbian understanding we would eventually have as being so eager to please as lovers.
She talked about her husbands Tom's enormous size, girth, and how she knew how to give the best head in the world thanks to a cousin (cliche or not ..its true) who had instructed her at an early age. I freely shared some cock sucking techniques with her and our notes compared favorably. She would ask a question about my husband and I like "do y'all do anything kinky," for which I told her the relative truth that my husband and I just don't have sex much at all, but her real reason for asking would be that she wanted to share her kinky stories with me, which included quite a lot of outdoor fucking and sucking. "Give me a n a soft bed, " I objected and exemplified our differences, "....and sometimes in the backseat," I offered giggling. It was a randy, somewhat sisterly conversation that I truly loved and was entertained by. And anytime I I talk sex with a girl, even though I don't come right out and admit my lesbian desires and experiences, I try to leave a little bread crumb trail for someone to connect the dots if they are looking. I blush when admitting "the only sex partner I have had lately is my right hand and sometimes I cheat on that lover with the shower head," to which she replied enthusiastically "I've done that too," and then at some point when she talked about their dirty movies I confessed "I watch a lot of stuff on the internet ..its just filthy porn ya know ...but, actually, I enjoy reading erotica much more," She said "maybe you'll have to show me some of those websites," I replied "well...the sites I go to might not be for everyone," for which I didn't inspire a follow up question, so that one just laid there. Yet...connect the dots right ? Well, the picture wasn't in focus enough for us yet.
Lets just say that the first meeting with us was an icebreaker and in between the first meeting and the second, I pretty much made up my mind to take a chance and make a bold pass at her if the circumstances were right. It had been so very long since I had been with a woman that I was going crazy. Almost drunken with lesbian lust on a daily basis, my fantasies run free and the more I thought about Carrie, the more I thought it just might be a chance worth taking. Many risks, including being outed at church. But I masturbated daily thinking of Carrie, and the next time we set up a time to hang out at her house on a weekday afternoon, this time to watch one of my favorites movies she had on her DVR, it was like setting up a date. The movie was a silly one, "The Little Mermaid," of all things, but she said in her country accent "I have that movie permanently saved on DVR ..I know all the words," and I said "I do too," what followed was easy, "you gotta come over and watch it this week, what day are you off," as if she would not take no for an answer. I loved that she enjoyed our friendship to extend it to this slumber party like get together...but I was determined that it would be more, or nothing at all.
I headed to her home not 10 minutes away and down an unpaved road thinking and plotting and planning and wondering. I went from being bold in my thoughts and saying to myself," Just kiss her, just go for it," to completely chickening out with good reason in the knowledge that I truly had too much to lose if she didn't respond to me.
Back up to her home that afternoon, back in Fuck Me attire, back in her living room with the dust particles again in the air and the homemade snack straight from the kitchen of the would be next great Food Channel star, we chit chatted...we poured more lemonade, ...we talked about her beautiful plants and the weather and everything that's both interesting and boring at the same time. We took our places on her couch on opposite sides as the movie began and I was relaxed and feeling no pressure to make or move or not. I love this movie enough and to share it with someone who shared my enthusiasm for it was plenty of excitement for the day...if that were all that were to happen. And, I realized, if not today, perhaps another day. During the movie we shared a couple of crude comments that included "he likes her cause she's always wet," and some things like that made it fun to watch a childish movie with an adult mind. But there was a point where she said something like "Tom always says at this point that all women taste like tuna..he thinks that's so fucking funny," and I said "Oh thats just wrong," and laughed, "they do NOT," perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and then said as if trying to be cute, in a fairly frivolous little girlish voice came my BIG MOVE in saying "pussy tastes like rainbow skittles...nothing at all like tuna." We both laughed out-loud, the thought of what I just admitted out loud caused the shock wave that went through me. I had done it ..and now what would the reaction be ?
Well the earth did not immediately move off of it's axis.
A few more minutes of the movie went by while my mind raced as I made a decision based on attraction, opportunity, and horniness to be more bold. But the way to move in on her was (as it always is with me) a lost cause as my mind frantically searched for a way to turn it up a notch. Why did she not say ANYTHING. I knew damn good and well she was THINKING about what I said. It was obvious and begged a response of "how do you know."
"Hey Carrie, can we pause this a second, I gotta go pee," and as I excused myself from the other side of the couch as her I walked in front of her and admired her beauty again, looked into her eyes and said "ya havin fun with this ?" and when she said "sure, aren't you ?" Her voice was a bit nervous and quivery and I knew I was right...she WAS thinking about what I said. I picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze and said "It's not the most fun we can have," and stared right into her eyes waiting for a reaction. There was very little, just a blank stare that was as if to say "what are you up to," but after the few seconds of silence I let go of her hand and made my way to the bathroom. It was there that after I pee'd I checked my look and made sure my hair and makeup were the best they could be under the circumstances, I felt I had given enough of a hint for her to think about some things. One final check before re-entering the living room, I pushed up my boobs and straightened myself out, and walked out determined to change my life, and hers, forever.
Chapter Four
Back on the couch, as soon as she started the movie, I didn't ask permission, I laid down with my head on her lap, adjusted myself and got comfortable and noted her slight discomfort her saying "oooooh kay ?" and I am already getting wet cause perhaps I am the only one of the two of us in the room that knows where its going to end up, or at least hoping for it, but i am loving it and feeling empowered. Looking back I was wayyyy overconfident in my seduction, but it sure came out ok in the end.
My head on her thigh against the fabric of her jeans, a couple of times I lazily stroked her thigh, an act that didnt define a lesbian commitment yet, but opened the door to the maybe's in her mind. I felt her stroke my hair and complimented me on how soft my thick mane was, and as the tension mounted in the room my adrenaline was rising awaiting the moment I would reveal my intentions.
The credits rolled and I turned around to my other side, facing away from the TV and looked up at her, and she looked down at me and smiled, but was truly confused. Then I kissed the zipper of her jeans---kinda of quickly...but defitely kissing her pussy through her pants and looked up and went "mmmmm tastes like skittles," and she laughed uncontrollably. We giggled. I sat up but instead of going to the other end of the couch, I sat facing her directly, pulling my knee up on the couch, and looking her in the eye.
"Carrie...I gotta tell you something," and she smiled a friendly smile and drawled "Whut?" and in the few seconds that transpired the nervous smile she had evaporated slowly to a more serious "tell me" kind of look. I am pretty sure I built enough dramatic tension for her to realize I was about to drop a bomb on her. My left hand placed upon her thigh, my right arm raised until my fingers entwined in her golden bleach blond hair, I broke eye contact, looked downward and stated, "Carrie, it don't taste like skittles, and honey, I know about that more than you realize...I know exactly what it tastes like, and I LIKE it," I waited a few seconds, still looking down before raising my head to pounce upon her lips, so unexpectedly, but purposefully, so softly. She stiffened and resisted in such a way that I was kissing and feeling passion for her sweet, soft, small lips. But she was not kissing back, and a slight opening gave me a moment to slide my tongue inside for just a peck, and just as I felt her start to melt a bit, she pulled away. We shared the inevitable, stereotypical "what the hell was that" stare off into each others eyes.
"I ...." I stammered for a moment and for the right choice of the million words I had dreamed of saying at this moment, " I have been wanting to make love to you for a very long time. You are the most beautiful girl, and I just can't resist those baby doll eyes any more. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I want to make love to you and show you how much fun two women can have together...if you'll let me." and I squeezed her thigh formidably "will you let me ?"
No words came from her mouth, if not a horrified look it was certainly the look of surprise, I stroked her thigh and ran my fingers through her hair.
She was completely motionless, not daring to make a move...neither of acceptance, but most importantly, nothing of resistance. Not knowing what to do she was frozen, and then her eyes closed, she stretched out an arm to put it on my shoulder, inviting but maintaining plausible deniability, not willing to make a sexual gesture, but not putting up a stop sign. I tugged on her hair gently and moved down to stroke her shoulder, then downward towards her chest, and traced the V of her V-neck, knowing her skin was tingling at my touch, and then I lowered my head this time not to kiss her lips, but to open my warm mouth widely and gently begin to suck upon the nape of her neck. She teetered a bit towards me and I felt the first signs of her resistance begin to crumble, and I caressed her ever so slowly while tasting her skin as a delicacy to be savored.
Finally she uttered a thought aloud with bewildered indignance. "I didn't know you was a lesbian" she said in her thick country southern drawl. I laughed a little as a reaction, and continuing to kiss against her neck as I responded "Nobody knows but Carrie how can I resist how beautiful you are. You are so beautiful...so pretty..." and then opening my mouth wider to suck more passionately upon her neck, "...and you smell SO good..." and then pulling her closer to me and adding passion to my kiss upon her neck...."and you taste sooooo good...soo good Carrie I want to taste you alllllll over"
This time our mouths met with her permission. She tried kissing me back with her inexperienced mouth. It felt awkward...though not without passion or potential, but I could feel alot of hesitation and doubt in that kiss. She held back so much that I decided not to force the issue...at least not that moment. There was still so much fear in every moment between the two of us ..her fear because of the surprise of what was unfolding and how unsure of what was coming, and me in fear that something so delicious, so erotic and something I wanted so badly to continue could be taken away if she withdrew her fragile state of submission to the pass I was making at her. I realized I was in a bit of a competition with her mind, and perhaps even her perceived morals. I knew among the thoughts pinging back and forth in her brain that she was considering a multitude of factors and senses and history... not the least of which that this was both of us cheating on our spouses, that this was homosexuality, that this was something she had no idea was going to happen, and perhaps the most insecure thought that I realized was that if there even was a lesbian bone in her body, perhaps it wasn't even attracted to a woman like me.
I gauged every signal. Her rigidness, tenseness and inability to or refusal to relax were negatives I plotted to overcome with my mind racing to invent ways to simultaneously pleasure her and assure her while not losing the moment. I wanted to fuck her, not rape her. I wanted this afternoon to be the first of many times, not the only time. My mind screamed to say the words "I'll stop if you want to," but I did not dare actually SAY that, because I selfishly felt I was far beyond being able to stop and refused to give her such an easy way out if she was contemplating it. On the other hand, she was clearly letting me do as I pleased, and while not passionately responding, her breathing was unmistakeably aroused, her body trembled, and her lack of either verbally or physically stopping the music I was making on her skin encouraged me to further my mission.
Carrie knew me as her companion, friend, and movie buddy. But I breathed into her as a passionate lover, a knee jerk difference from anything she ever saw of me before, and might not have ever dreamed of, as I continued to persuade her with my mouth, hands, and moaning into her skin "I want to make you feel so good ...sooooo good Carrie...relax and let me love your beautiful body. "
When I make out with a woman, my right hand has this mind of it's own and can't resist gravitating towards a breast. I have noticed this trait over the years, in that I think I want to make out more and save some of those breast sensations for later, but almost involuntarily, my lips upon a woman and the right hand goes to encircle a breast and introduce itself to the nipple upon it. In Carrie's case, her left breast within the thin fabric of her bra veiled by the faded cotton university V neck T shirt she wore received my touch, a squeeze and gentle lift of her small but firm B cup, and as my thumb wiped over the nipple area, I felt the definite response of her nipple stiffening and previewing something my mouth would eventually come to know. She had enormously and unusually long nipples, and easily the most sensitive and responsive to touch. I was wildly turned on to feel this response from her body, her nipple jutting out as much as it did, and in that moment I felt her soften and the allowance of my intrusion to not only her body, but, her expectations as well.
There at exact moment of the first over her clothes contact with her breast as my lips continued to kiss and lick her neck, I received two verbal green lights to go from Carrie. The first was a rapid exhale that almost seemed combined with disgust, either in me or herself, but nonetheless had me ready to recoil should she back away, but then she said tensely and through gritted teeth "You just keep on going don't you. " She sounded like she was ACCUSING me of something hideous. "Mmmm yeah," I moaned into her neck. " You just ain't gonna stop ," to which I responded with a deeper moan with more tongue against her skin and another exquisite grasp more firmly of her breast. It was difficult for me to form words but managed "I want to make love to you so much...you re so beautiful." With her breathing unable to hide how her body was responding any longer, she panted, "If you don't tell nobody, (and she paused for around 10 seconds) I don't want you to stop ...but you gotta know something." I stopped kissing her neck and rose up to look int her eyes, my hand removed from her breast to gently caress her back and bring her body against me. She broke our gaze to look away, as if she thought she was disappointing me, her accent more pronounced, "I don't think I'm ready to eat your pussy" I thought to myself "So thats the holdup," but responded by pulling her close and saying "Oh Carrie, that is soooo not what this is about. I want to make love to YOU, understand ?" "But I'm not no lesbian," she said, determined to be able to deny the existence of our passion if she needed to for her souls sake, and I almost laughed in both amusement at her simplicity in the matter, and relief in that the game I'd been playing the last half hour to seduce her had been won. "All I care about is your pleasure ...nothing else matters," I reassured her, and pure joy swept over me in victory that went deeper than my desire to create her ultimate response.
All of this initial resistance is such a sweet memory to me. Because I always felt like there was a very sexual, sensual woman beneath the exterior she projected. The man crazy woman I had known was putting up a hell of a fight, but the woman she became began to be unveiled in the moments and minutes, in the throes of the multiple orgasms she was about to experience like none she'd ever known before, and the cries and wails and digging nails that followed that afternoon in the ultimate release of my sapphic seduction of her came to fruition.
As I approached her lips with my open mouth to kiss her once again, her eyes remained open as did mine, but they were as soft slits as though awaiting something delicious, and this time her mouth parted to welcome my darting tongue. Her tongue swirled around mine and our arms moved naturally to embrace. I didn't let up in the kiss and let it linger and linger some more, until when we broke she commented breathlessly "your lips are so fucking soft....damn thats soft,' and I replied, "you like it don't you ?" "Yeah I like it," she reluctantly admitted. And as though it were a demand, "again!." It was a one word and barely audible request I obliged with with my hungry mouth, once again adding a palm against her firm breast, once again feeling her nipple springing to life in response to my touch. (end of chapter four)
Chapter Five
HER NIPPLES. Oh how the first moments I focused my vision on up close, felt between my thumb and finger, and especially the first moments of feeling her stiff nipple between my lips ...these are almost sacred moments to me. I had seen them quickly before in the revelations of her outfits, but fully excited, her nipples fully protruded at least a full inch, sticking straight out almost exaggerated and even (oh gawd I can't believe I will write this) cartoonishly long. But...NOT grotesque...not in the least. Just the longest nipples I ever saw counting Phys Ed showers and movies, and even though I've seen full, long and freakish nipples on the internet, until hers were so close to me, I never imagined such a thing as being something I'd experience. And it is the most exciting thing I ever felt and took me back to the first time I ever touched a throbbing penis or kissed a wet pussy, feeling her nipples respond and her body respond to the sucking and licking I gave them that day will forever stay with me and haunt me so.
When sucking her nipple, her body would quake gently, her excitement level unmistakably heightened with each original suck or lick or graze of my teeth. I am not a biter until I KNOW a woman wants that, but show me the signs or make the request and I will pinch them til they almost bleed if its what gets a woman off. But for Carrie, my ministrations towards her tits were passionate, but on the gentle side. My mouth is all over her breasts with the milky white skin and the wonderful dark pink confection I gobbled and slurped on to the delight of both of us. "Oh baby you are SO good at this," she gasped between breaths and soft moans while her fingernails gently dug into me at the neck and shoulders.
While this is happening the constant beat of my pulsating pussy has me grinding against her, and the knowledge that her own sweet clit was throbbing awaiting the warmth of my tongue and lips and was certainly already building to the first of her orgasms. I swirled my tongue on her nipple and around the areola, to the soft underside my mouth would wander while my hands grasped, squeezed and lifted, or alternately, fingertip stroked her skin and her other nipple. When I sucked on her left one and pinched the other one her body would writhe, her sweat soft high pitched moan would make me deliriously "sex drunk" , and when I could feel what I was doing to her in a given moment was really sending her, my own moan would accompany hers. While not stroking her side or other breast, my hand worked its way through her soft hair. Then, while it was almost a difficult thing to detach my lips from upon her tit, while I sucked and sucked like I could NOT get enough, I needed the kiss of her lips and the taste of her tongue more for a moment and rose up to meet her mouth, which kissed me so deeply and passionately that I fell with all my weight half on her and half on the bed. When breasts are against naked soft breasts, it is the most wonderful and delightful thing where each of us knows how good it is as just a zing of excitement and the knowledge of "I know what you are feeling" in both of our minds. But her stiff nipple protruding so sharply into my soft big breast, and then my own pointed nipple grazing against hers, and this happening by accident, or perhaps by soulmate fate, riled me head to toe. I then sought out to duplicate that feeling purposely, rising up to hang my boobs dangling onto hers, laying on her back, our eyes met and she gave me a mischevious "I know what you are about to do" look, and our nipples grazed, and bumped, and smooshed against one another. that feeling wasnt enough and so I grabbed my tit and guided it up and down. Her hand joined mine, first upon my tit, and then she grabbed and squeezed her own so sexy, and we rubbed our erect nipples against each other slowly, but wonderfully, in a way that I never had done before with a woman, and t admit that I have seen it done in sex vids and it turned me on would be an understatement, but I never saw women do it and enjoy it as long as we did, which was probably closer to three minutes than two. It felt so good I didnt want to stop and she was loving it too. Plus, doing this gave us a bit of a break from all my mouth wqas doing as it had been wandering from breast to neck to nipple to her sides and sometimes to kiss a hand, forearm, or even to suck on her finger. My mission was to drive her wild with my mouth, but truthfully, she had only been with men before, and men had mouths. But in this moment, we were doing a purely lesbian thing, and while my mouth rested my mind churned, plotted, and planned for her pleasure.
As I was sitting up over her with our tits kissing, I was loving her beauty, and loving seeing her so turned on. I knew my wetness was spilling and felt the first wet drop trickle out of me and down my leg...a typical response for me which I will write more about later. But as for this moment, it was seeing her chest rise up and down with her heavy breathing matching my own, neither of us knowing words to say, but saying everything. Her fear was still evident, but she was not only giving into me, but participating and truly having sex with me. Touching my breast a bit, feeling its pliability, looking into my eyes with a "don't stop" mentality evident, a "whats next" trust evident as well, and one more time I lowered my lips to her tit and sucked it good, with her moaning again under me, her hands grabbing onto my shoulders and back, and then on my own breast. I lifted my leg to over hers and mounted her thigh with my soaking cunt while opening my mouth as wide as could be for the deepest of french kisses where she gently sucked my tongue. Waves of electricity shot through me.
Now with all this play upon her incredible tits, and all the excitement growing, I had purposefully avoided her pussy. Why ? Deep down I know I wanted her to ask for it ..maybe even beg for it. As I grinded into her with my wet lips and stiff clit letting me know I was going to come if I pushed for it, I restrained and slowed down, and made our love sweet and slow. Her thigh met my gyrations and my thigh got into her mons and we started a rythm. Her moans were starting to gravitate towards the loss of control whimpers, and I was completely proud of myself. But I was also SO hungry for her pussy. And I was going to go down on her any second. But it wouldnt be the same story if she hadnt asked...hadn't begged....but ...she did.
There is a moment in Wizard of Oz when you are excited and you know its going to be good and everything is great and on its path, but its stll not what you came for. Then, Dorothy Gale opens the door after the tornado, and suddenly, EVERY COLOR APPEARS, and it is SO right. And making love with Carrie took that turn...when it seems the whole thing seems to change color.
Carrie took my right hand and squeezed it so tightly it slightly hurt, but a pain that I knew was her communicating to me in the throes of passion that she felt passion. I didn't think for a second she was going to stop me. And after she released the hard pressure with all her strenght in holding my hand, she pushed it straight down her body, over her left tit and still stiff nipple, and and put my hand on her soaking wet swollen lips, where I immediately found and gave my first stroke to her clit, her lips so moist they sucked my finger inside, and she gasped and sighed deeply, and when I heard these words come out of her mouth desperately but with both desire and most importantly, a command, it was like that moment in Wizard of Oz...everything changed in the sound of her words that will forever echo in my mind.
"Brenda....PLEASE," she wailed, "Please fuck me with your fucking tongue...NOW...Eat my pussy," she commanded and then acquiesced from her further restriction, "and I'll eat yours too."
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