A hot lesbian sex encounter with a twist in the tale
We’d returned from our date but we were both still hungry. Not the type of hunger which was more than sated by the meal; this hunger had been stoked by weeks of suggestive, teasing online chat and late night sexts.
It had been too long since I’d touched her, even if that was just hugs and kisses. I felt ready to strip her naked as soon as we had both feet in the door but I knew I had to play it cool. Over eager would never do, but neither would lack of confidence. Cool, calm, collected. The opposite of how I actually felt.
How did she feel? It was so difficult to tell with women. I’d always found men much easier to read in that way, and let’s face it most men wouldn’t turn down the kind of plans I had in mind for this evening. Girls tended to play their cards close to their cunt; no tell-tale rising bulge to signal arousal and need. It’s not like I could slip my fingers straight down her panties and feel between her labia to seek out her slippery wetness. I sighed, inwardly. Stop with the distractions. You’re meant to be playing it cool, remember?
We weren’t alone. The boys were present, aware of plans talked about but not yet fulfilled and quite obviously alert but nervous. The internal struggles played out so obviously on their faces. Tired but not wanting to miss anything. Aroused but obedient to any instructions. Anxious about the emotional torment that lay ahead.
The TV provided background noise so we didn’t have to fill the quiet with chatter. As the time passed I moved from the armchair over to the double bed that was in the same, cosy living room. She was already laid on top of it, and I sat next to her on the bed, both of us propped up by pillows with our own thoughts as we gazed at the TV. I can barely remember which shows we watched over that hour or so. The comedy show babble interspersed with riotous laughter from the audience was drowned out by the ponderings of my mind.
She’d said she wanted to get together tonight. Like that. She’d talked about having sex. She’d said she found me sexy and couldn’t wait. Was it different now? Why wasn’t she making a move? Do I have to make the first move? Was she in the mood? What if she’s not and I make a move and she gets offended? It will be embarrassing. I’ll have to leave.
I risked moving closer to her on the bed, and she turned to face away from me.
Shit. She’s not in the mood at all.
Her hand reached round to pull my arm over her waist, pulling me closer to her so I was spooning her. Her fingers interlaced with mine and she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. OH. Right.
The TV faded even more into the background and I risked a big silly grin to the back of her head. I wiped it off just in time when she turned around to say something.
“We’ll send them to bed after this.”
“Good idea,” I replied, my heart suddenly thumping fast.
We watched more of the TV, or rather I fixed my eyes on the TV screen while the mixture of anxious and excited thoughts raced through my mind. After a time, she turned to face me. Expecting her to say something else, I was taken by surprise when she leaned in and kissed me.
Girl kisses always seem tender, but still overflowing with passion. Her mouth is so dainty, her lips soft and full. No coarse manly stubble or beard to contend with, no masculine musk to the kiss. 100% girl. I was aware I must taste like the glass of wine I’d sipped earlier, whereas she tasted of… girl. Just delicious, enticing, intoxicating girl.
Completely dazed and kissed off guard, I was thankful I didn’t make any of the typical kissing mistakes. Somehow I managed to enjoy her kissing me, as she was definitely the one kissing my mouth, without clashing teeth, banging noses or either of us drowning in saliva. So far, so good.
The TV show ended and we broke from the kiss for air and to decide the next step. The boys were sent to bed and we were alone in the room. This was it. Now or never. As I knew she wanted more, wanted me, my confidence was bolstered. Even though I just wanted to fuck her and make her orgasm I knew I still had to take it slow. Not just for effect but to enjoy the journey to mutual satisfaction.
We kissed like we wanted to actually devour each other through mouths alone. She was on top of me, hand in my hair the other on my waist, then I was astride her, tongue exploring her mouth with more passion than the gentle fumblings on the bed minutes before. We’d tested the water and now we dived in headfirst.
Her fingers pulled at the bottom of my tee, and it was up, over my head and on the floor. No bra so I was topless on top of her and she saw my breasts nude in real life for the first time. Not that she perved them for too long before her fingers and mouth were on them too, licking and nipping and teasing. I gasped and moaned, then tugged at her top. I wanted to tease and taste more of her.
Chucking her tee to the floor to join mine, I couldn’t disguise the sexual hunger I felt as I admired her gorgeous breasts. Perfect shape, size… and her small pink nipples already hard and puckered. I lowered my head as she raised hers and took one of her nipples between finger and thumb, rolling it gently between them, as my tongue swirled over the bumpy areola of the other. The flat of my tongue first, then the tip flicking quickly for maximum sensation. Then swapping sides and rolling her now wet nipple between my fingers as I sucked and lapped at the other. The moans she was emitting above me were spurring me to continue, but she wanted to taste me too.
The tussle continued on the bed. Two topless girls with puckered, sucked hard nipples, spoilt for choice between deeply kissing each other’s mouths and playing with each other’s sensitive breasts. Her on top of me, then me on top of her, both giving as good as the other. I was sopping wet by this point, with no underwear beneath my trousers, so a slippery damp patch betrayed my arousal – to me at least. There was no chance for her to notice as we took the sex play ever further. We both tugged at her waistband, peeling both trousers and knickers off in a frenzied, desperate bid for more stimulation.
A quick glance at her to make sure she was still ok, and I spread her puffy labia with my fingers, noting the wetness of her arousal leaking out on to my fingertips. I’d waited for so long and I was finally able to taste her. Lowering my head I silently offered a quick prayer to nobody in particular that I’d be good enough, then my tongue tip flashed over her clitoris while my lips sealed a circular kiss around the edges. Not content with giving just clitoral stimulation, worried it wouldn’t be enough, I slipped first the tip of my index finger inside her cunt, then my middle finger alongside it. Slowly and gently at first, I finger fucked her while my tongue danced over and around her clit.
Her hand touched my other arm and she was reaching down… I locked the fingers of my free hand with hers and squeezed to reassure her. This seemed to be the sign she was waiting for, and she let herself go over to the pleasure. Her hips rose from the bed and I followed the rise and fall with my mouth, fingers still buried deep inside her. She was openly groaning now, especially when I flicked the tip of my tongue over the side of her clit, alternating with tongue tip and the flat area, and the finger fucking increased in pace. The noises her beautiful mouth made above me, combined with the squelching of fucking her cunt with my hand, made it impossible to wear my own trousers any longer.
I let her go.
“These are entirely unwearable, and it’s all your fault.”
“Sorry,” she smiled at me, with a hazy look of pleasure on her face.
My trousers were the last item of clothing to join the rest on the floor, and I went to continue fucking her but she wasn’t going to let me. We were both completely naked on her bed, in the soft lamplight, and my enthusiasm for fucking her must have boosted her confidence. Indicating that I should lay on the bed, she spread my legs and looked at me with such intensity it almost hurt. Unsure of her experience with girls I bit my tongue against the desire to offer her a way out, to reassure her that she didn’t have to reciprocate, there’s no obligation.
I didn’t get the chance to utter a word even if I’d wanted to. Those dark eyes left mine and her face turned downwards to the business of pleasure. Her fingertips brushed gently over my hairless, smooth pubic mound, down to my vulva and spread my glistening pussy lips. Bending my legs I automatically raised my hips slightly to welcome her attentions. Her stimulation mimicked mine to her; fingers gently inserted in my hungry cunt and her tongue teasing circles around my erect clit.
If she was inexperienced, it didn’t show. She licked and fucked me like an expert, a woman who had done this hundreds of times before with success on every occasion. Her delicate, slender fingers slid over my G-spot while her lips sucked on my clit, complemented by the almost tortuous flicking and lapping of her tongue. I couldn’t help it, my hands were down between my legs and tangled in her long, dark hair.
The night continued with us taking turns fucking each other with fingers and mouths, kissing each other and tasting each other’s cunt on our lips and tongues. Fingers mauled each other’s full breasts and hard nipples, and the tops of our inner thighs were slippery with escaped arousal juices. I lapped at her pussy entrance, drinking every leaking drop down as if it were the finest champagne, and she thrust her tongue inside me at the same time in 69, rotating her thumb pad over my slicked clitoris so my body bucked against her and I lapped at her even more urgently.
We both knew it wasn’t the be-all and end-all, but I wanted her to climax at least once and I knew she wanted to give me an orgasm too. I find it difficult if not mostly impossible to orgasm through manual stimulation alone, without vibration, and she admitted to stage fright. I had stage fright too. To be honest it’s difficult to reach that required level of selfish pleasure when you’re so focussed on ensuring your partner is enjoying every moment to the full.
There was only one thing for it. Doxy.
A guaranteed orgasm for me, Doxy has what it takes to push through any amount of stage fright and make me cum regardless. It’s sheer jackhammer power in a mains powered vibrator. She plugged it in by the bed and put it against me, telling me I’d probably have to give her a hand if it wasn’t quite right.
It was perfect. She lay next to me, holding the Doxy against my clit while I helped keep it in position, and her mouth was on mine giving reassuring kisses – delicious intimacy without the pressure of eye contact. In just a couple of minutes my stage fright had been vanquished and I mumbled against her mouth that I was going to come… and then the world exploded into stars and glitter as my body succumbed to the incredible stimulation from all sources.
The balance had to be redressed, I so wanted her to orgasm. The Doxy was put to the side for the moment as I rose up and spread her legs, positioning myself between them to attend to her gorgeous cunt once again.
“Like this,” she said, as she crooked my first two fingers and pushed them down for me to reinsert them into her insanely tight pussy. “Then pull up, and do it fast.”
I followed her instructions, after all she knew her own body best. Grateful that she’d been able to communicate exactly how she liked being stimulated, I leant over her with my fingers bent inside her and fucked her as hard and ferociously as possible. My exertions were interspersed with kissing her face, her mouth, her breasts, as she twisted and bucked against my fingers.
“I’m not stopping unless you tell me red.”
She understood. Her mouth was then free to give in to all the nos, stops and pleases that she’d been holding back, and still I didn’t stop. She thrashed more powerfully on the bed, and her hands were on my wrist, trying to control the intense stimulation. My eyes were on hers. Not until you say red. An appreciative glint of understanding in her eyes. Someone unafraid to fuck her hard, not asking if she’s ok, only stopping if she safes.
On and on I fucked her with my hand inside her, hearing her gasp and forget to breathe at times, the whine of the overstimulated but greedy for more, while my fingers struggled to keep the pace and my arm was sore from the efforts I exerted on her behalf.
Fuck, fuck, harder, harder… then eventually…
I stopped, almost grateful for the relief to my arm. She’d worked me hard, but I’d worked her hard too. She was shaking from the sensations and I collapsed next to her on the bed.
A quick drink for both of us, our throats and mouths parched despite the amount of juices we’d both licked and sucked.
Her turn – I wanted her to come, properly, hard, in my arms. I grabbed the Doxy and she didn’t put up a fight. Setting it to low, I placed it to her red, fucked raw pussy and suddenly realised this was a new thing.
“I haven’t done this to someone else before,” I confessed.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll help.”
The Doxy is large and heavy enough when using it for masturbation, but when you’re applying it to someone else it’s all different angles, then there’s the fact it’s not your own clitoris you’re applying it to. My arm was aching from having fucked her as hard as she wanted, and now the Doxy… There’d be time to worry about muscle recovery and healing the next day. I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.
Snarling as gently as a Doxy can, the rumbling vibrations seemed to be doing the trick. I had been top to tail with her, to see where I was putting the sex toy’s head, but I switched round to lie next to her as her journey to orgasm continued.
Pressing the button to up the power another notch, her breathing quickened to an almost alarming rate. Her moans and whines reached feverish pitch, and I knew she was on the home straight. Lifting her slightly so she was in my embrace while my other hand kept the Doxy in position, she kissed me hard then shuddered, turned her face to bury it in my breasts and came with a long, loud squeal and full body trembling as I held her close.
It felt magical.
We lay together in that naked post-coital embrace for some time, Doxy wire tangled with our legs and perspiration beading on our worn out, fucked raw bodies. It was only once we both returned to earth, our breathing calm and the ability to talk rediscovered, that the wire was untangled and the Doxy was dropped to the floor by the bed besides the pile of clothes.
A kiss, a cuddle and we fell asleep exhausted just before the sun rose.
Above us, the boys struggled, cuckolded in their chastity devices. Their torment had no doubt been exacerbated by their proximity to our loudly audible sexual satisfaction in each other, while the keys to their freedom were safely around our necks the whole time.