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Disclaimer: Everybody is 18 years or older; void where prohibited; some assembly required; not available in all states. Blah blah blah. Happy?
Characters are borrowed from my “Hero’s Life” series but I can only take partial credit for this story. It’s based loosely (there’s some substantial liberties taken here) on a fairly romantic girl-girl tale shared by a female friend from college. In fact, it’s written from her perspective in a conversational style as if she’s telling it to you over drinks in the way she did for me.
L.C., if you’re out there, this one’s for you. Hope you found the really good guy (or girl!) you deserve…
~~~** Part I**~~~
“Bubblegum.” It’s what she called me when we were alone. And I called her “Berry.”
I remember it like it was yesterday. We were playing field hockey. It was the beginning of the season. Our coach split the team in half and we were scrimmaging each other. I was on the A-team with the other first-stringers. Stacey had transferred into our school a year earlier but she’d been playing tennis before. When she switched over, she was automatically put on the B-team. The coach watched her run then put her at sweeper right away. Stacey could cover half the field. She was wild, fast, and free. Tireless too.
I was playing center forward so Stacey and I clashed a bunch. We were bumping, elbowing – the usual stuff. Nothing nasty, just good hard play. Until someone sent me a great pass and got a step ahead of her. It would be just me and the goalie.
Stacey lunged with her front leg and I think she twisted her knee to knock into my thigh. Anyway, all of a sudden my leg went out from under me. We’d been running full tilt. I fell sideways and we got tangled up as we tumbled down and across the grass. She ended up on top of me.
When we came to a stop, I was flat on my back and she was on her hands and knees above me, straddling one of my legs. I looked up at her. Stacey’s long, dark red hair covered both our faces. She was the only girl who didn’t braid or ponytail her hair when we played hockey. She liked it loose. Her wavy flaming hair bouncing around made her look crazy and I think she liked it that way.
Anyway, lying there in the grass, I didn’t have a chance to get mad because when she looked down at me I could tell she felt bad about what she’d done. “‘Sorry, really sorry,” she winced, “guess I got carried away there.”
But then… then something shifted. Inside her. I could see it in her eyes. She bent her arms a little to push herself off me and, for a brief moment, it brought our faces closer together beneath her hair. At the same time, one of her legs slid up against the inside of my thigh and one of her boobs pressed a little into mine. It made my breath catch and I smelled strawberries. She got this sort of curious, hungry look.
“Heather, did ya ever just get… carried away?” I was speechless; all I could do was nod. She smiled and rolled off me and I swear I felt a hand brush one of my boobs. She pulled me to my feet and even picked up my hockey stick and gave it to me.
“Here you go, ‘Bubblegum,'” she said softly. That’s what I smell like. She’d smelled me too. Then I just watched her jog away.
The whole thing took about four seconds but that was enough. It was the first time I was ever attracted to a girl. From there, it was just a matter of time. Stacey wanted me. And, honestly, I kinda wanted her too.
Lemme back up a sec, I didn’t mean to get into girls. I mean, I’m pretty good looking. I’m skinny and fit with blue eyes and wavy blonde hair that looks nice against my tan. I have a tiny, round little bubblebutt and big full boobs that look gigantic on my small body. Frankly, I get more attention than I want most of the time. The point is, I pretty much had my pick of boys at school. It’s not my fault most of them were dumb or mean or were obviously only interested in my body.
Same deal with Stacey I think. She was fair, fair skinned. Like ivory white. Her flaming dark red hair was gorgeous. She could do shampoo commercials. She was maybe an inch taller than me. We were pretty much the same size though. She had these amazing gray-green eyes, fairly big boobs too and she was even more fit than me. Girlie was toned and tight. So, yup, boys liked her too. She went on a few dates and she broke a few hearts. But that was pretty much the end of it. Other than that, like I said, she was a transfer. She kept to herself mostly. I felt bad for her. It was a small school and most of us had grown up together. It was hard to make friends.
So how did it start? Well, it started out real slow. We sort of seduced each other.
Stacey and I talked more and more before and after practices. Then we began saving each other a seat on the team bus. In the beginning of the season, when I was playing a lot more than she was, and I was really exhausted after this one game, she offered to rub my shoulders. Her hands were warm and soft. They felt soooo good. Then she was porno izle doing it after games without me asking. If it was a long ride home, she’d let me fall asleep on her shoulder too. I loved the smell of her hair. She only used the best shampoos. But underneath the shampoo smell, always there, were the strawberries.
By the middle of the season, Stacey got bumped up to first string too. She was a great sweeper so she was running even more than me. On the bus rides home, we’d both be tired. We’d rub each others shoulders. We both slept. It was getting later in the fall, colder, so Stacey and I would press together tightly on the little bus seat. I started throwing a leg over hers for more contact. More warmth. More closeness.
It got to the point where I hated home games. No bus ride meant no excuse to be that close to Stacey. It wasn’t enough to just see each other in the hall at school.
So we started going out together on weekends. Just the two of us. Shopping, movies, the usual stuff. We hung out at my house too. We played video games or watched TV.
We talked about everything. Sometimes we’d talk about boys. Stacey had weird tastes. She liked the freaky ones. The more tattoos and piercings the better. She said that one of the sexiest things she’d ever done was suck on the pierced nipple of this random hot guy she’d met at a concert.
I told her I liked clean cut guys. Sweet preppy boys who wore loafers and worried about which college they would go to. She called me a dork-lover.
The conversations eventually got to sex. What we’d done. What we hadn’t done. What we’d wished we’d done. What we’d wished we hadn’t done.
Fumbling Doug Ferguson fell in that last category for me. He had been a couple of years ahead of me in school. When he came back from college I thought he was so mature. We ended up in his parent’s basement after a party. Just kissing and dry humping to start. Then I let him push up my skirt. When he started kissing up my legs it felt nice. Then he pulled my panties aside and ate me to my first oral orgasm and it felt really nice. Much better than fingers.
But when he took off his pants and stuck his long skinny dick in me? Not so nice. Genius put the condom on inside out at first, then realized it, and turned it right side out and put it back on. I think most of the lube ended up on him rather than in me. He felt horrible going in. It felt even worse when he broke me open. I waited for it to start feeling better. It never really did. By the time I caught my breath he was coming already. All in all, it wasn’t an experience I thought was worth repeating. I avoided him for the rest of his break until he went back to school
Stacey’s experience was way crazier and I told her so, “You’re nuts! I can’t believe it, my best friend is a total pervert,” I teased her.
“You had to be there at the time. It just kinda happened,” she giggled. “And at least I enjoyed it.”
Stacey was a virgin. Technically. The guy at the concert with the tattoos and the nipple piercing that she sucked on? She later confessed that she let him do her in her butt. Yup, her butt.
I didn’t say a word while she told met the whole story. It was just too ridiculous…
“I was right up in front of the stage; dancing and screaming. I felt somebody bump against me from behind. I didn’t do anything the first time. We were all pressed in together like sardines. When it happened again, I turned around to tell them to back off. But I didn’t because he was gorgeous! No shirt. Tanned and ripped. He had, like, an eight-pack. He also had his left nipple pierced and big dragon tattooed across his chest. And he had the prettiest eyes.”
“I had to yell for him to hear me over the music, ‘Did that hurt?!’, I asked and I touched his piercing.”
“‘A little, but in a good way,’ he laughed, ‘wanna kiss it and make it better?'”
“He was flirting right back at me! I couldn’t think of what to say so I just did it. I leaned down and licked it then sucked it a little. Then I just laughed and turned back to watch the concert.”
“A minute later he pressed into me from behind and we started dancing together – grinding to the music. He put his hands on my hips. I was pushing back against him.”
“My skirt started working higher up between us. No one could really see because it was dark and everyone was packed in so tight. Soon I could feel the cotton front of his cargo shorts against my ass because I only had a thong on underneath. His pants felt rough and sexy rubbing against my butt. One of his hands on my hips slid down my front and he cupped my goodies. Okay, that was a little aggressive, but it was over my skirt and my undies. He started rubbing a little. We kept grinding. The combination was perfect. He kept me on the edge of getting off forever.”
“I was so worked up that when he pulled away for a sec and I felt his bare rod rubbing against my butt I just kinda went along with it. I needed to cum so bad. If he wanted to amatör porno get off too I didn’t mind. We kept grinding.”
“Then he pushed himself underneath me. His tip caught my thong, slipped under it, and skidded along my front. Whoa! I was not ready for that. I pulled away and he popped back up against my butt. I let him hump my buttcrack. That felt pretty good. We kept grinding to the music and he kept touching me. We were getting more and more slippery – sweat and guy stuff.”
“Then he angled himself a little and his tip pushed my little thong string aside and he caught the wrong hole. He knew it too because he stopped. But he also started rubbing me up front more, I was getting so close. I braced myself against the stage. I was going to cum any second. He pushed himself inside! By that time we were a slippery mess back there so, while it felt huge, it didn’t kill me. I just remember grunting out loud. Then he rubbed me harder. And he pushed in more. Then he pulled out. Then pushed back in. He was doing me in the butt I didn’t frickin’ care. He did it again and that’s when I came really really big. I felt him come too. I felt him spurt up into me and he leaned forward, brushed my hair aside, and sucked on the back of my neck. My knees were shaking like crazy.
“When he slowly pulled out of me, he put his lips to my ear and said, ‘Did that hurt?'”
“I looked back at him and smiled, ‘A little, but in a good way. Wanna kiss it and make it better?'”
“He laughed. Then he let go of my hips and I figured he was zipping his shorts back up. But when I turned around he was gone. My mystery stud had just disappeared into the crowd. I fixed my skirt and turned back to watch the concert with my butt all warm and slippery inside.”
When Stacey was done the story, all I could do was just stare at her with my mouth hanging open.
She tucked a little bit of her auburn hair behind her ear and a blush spread across her ivory cheeks. “I’ve never told anyone that story before. Please, please don’t tell anyone.” She sighed. “So, yeah, I’m a big ‘ol ‘V’. But I’ve done plenty of sex stuff. It’s just, I dunno, I never found the right guy to do the actual deed with.” Then she grinned wickedly. “How old is your brother?”
“Bobbie’s way too young for you, pervert!” I threw a pillow at her, giggling. I didn’t think any less of her. In fact, I was glad that she’d shared her wacky private story. I wished I could do something free-spirited like that. I got boinked by a dufus I didn’t really like in his parent’s basement on their musty old couch. She’d surrendered herself completely to a hot stranger in a stadium full of people. I wanted to be more like her.
Anyway, Stacey hung out at my house a lot. She quickly figured out that my dad’s over-sized recliner in the family room had a heat and massage thingy built in. When my Dad went to bed, she’d scoot over into it and turn the heat on. Then she’d wave me over. I’d squeeze onto it with her together. Sometimes side by side, sometimes in each other’s laps. Again, it was an excuse for more contact. More warmth. More closeness.
We were still just best friends. Best friends with zero personal space, but still just friends. We might have never gotten further if Stacey hadn’t asked me something. Her question, and my answer, were a kind of turning point.
I still remember it. We were sitting in the corner of a coffee shop on a Saturday night. Stacey was wearing her chocolate brown cashmere sweater – it was my favorite and I daydreamed about resting my head between the soft brown hills of her chest. We’d been talking about boys again. Then she asked me what kind of girls I liked. She’d asked it jokingly and sort of looked away. But she kept glancing back at me waiting for me to answer.
“I think… I think I like the you kind.” I remember my face getting hot and taking a long sip of my latte.
She smiled and nibbled her lip a little. “Huh,” her grey-green eyes were all soft and sweet, “what a coincidence.”
We didn’t say anything else. We didn’t have to. We went to the movies after coffee. When the lights went down, I tipped my head over the armrest between us and… our heads collided. She’d been coming towards me too. We both laughed. Feeling silly. Rubbing our heads where’d they bumped. Then each other’s heads.
But then nothing was funny. I couldn’t breath anymore. All I wanted was to kiss her big soft lips. So I did. I’d never kissed a girl before. Not once. Not even spin-the-bottle. I’d just never even considered it before Stacey. She kissed me back and I barely managed not to moan out loud. She didn’t just smell like strawberries – she tasted like them too.
We never saw a minute of the movie. We were kissing the whole time. When the lights came up, we pulled apart quickly – scared we’d be seen. Still, we held hands when we walked out to the parking lot and while I drove her home.
When she went to get out of my car, she just sort of naturally leaned over anal porno and kissed me goodnight. Like she would have kissed a boy who was dropping her off after a date. Then she smiled kinda funny and said, “G’night Bubblegum.”
“Bubblegum.” She started calling me that when we were alone. And I started calling her “Berry.”
~~~** Part II**~~~
We had our girlie sex talk after school one night later that week. Stacey and I were hanging out in my room. We alternated between doing Calculus and smooching. My door was closed and locked. I checked it a million times – paranoid that someone would walk in on us.
When I came up for air between kisses, I finally asked her, “Have you ever kissed a girl before?”
She frowned, “Yeah, but just one.”
“Who?!” It was a small town. I probably knew the bitch. I mean her.
“Relax, you don’t know her. I went to summer camp with her. We were junior counselors together.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Everything,” she looked at me steadily, not blinking. “We had a cabin to ourselves and half a summer.”
“Oh. But you still went back to boys?” I asked, feeling silly. I think some part of me was worried. If I went lezzie – full-on, carpet-munching, screw the dumb boys lezzie and not just kissing and snuggling my cute best friend – would I ever come back to guys?
“Yeah, I went back to boys. I kind of figured it was a one-time deal. I didn’t think I liked girls. I just liked her.”
“Huh. That’s kinda how I feel about you.”
She smiled and nodded then kissed me. Then she got up and went over to my dresser. In this funny, sort of theoretical way, Stacey was fascinated by the size of my breasts. Frankly, I don’t know why because hers were almost as big. When we hung out in my room, she’d dig through my underwear drawer for a pretty bra then hold it up to her chest. It was part of our routine.
~~~** Part III**~~~
It was later, about a month after we had our short, girlie sex talk and she was into my underwear drawer again. That time she was holding up a satiny dark gray bra. I finally told her, “You can borrow that if you want to.”
“No, it won’t fit right. I’m too small.”
“Bet you’re not. It’ll look great with your big ol’ gray-green eyes too. Try it on and see.”
“Sure. What’s mine is yours Berry, you know that.”
She smiled then turned her back to me shyly. We’d kissed and even started petting – in non-intimate areas like arms, legs, necks, or backs – but we’d never seen each other without clothes on. She pulled her shirt off. Her back was covered in the same smooth ivory skin as the rest of her. Then she took off her lacy white bra. When she slipped mine on, I caught a glance of side boob. Her breasts were super round just like mine. Then she walked up to the mirror to look at herself.
I could see her in the mirror’s reflection. She could wear the bra just fine. She just wasn’t popping out of it a little like I did. It meant she was on the lower end of a D-cup while I was on the tippy top end. Her belly was even more toned than mine though. I was flat and tight but Stacey, wow, I could see the faint lines of a six-pack even under her pale skin. I watched her look at herself, cup her chest, fluff her wavy red hair.
She caught me looking in the mirror. “Well?”
“How do I look?”
“Oh come on, you’re a super hottie.”
“Yup, I’ve got high standards. I only make out with super hotties. Regular girls just don’t do it for me.”
She giggled. “You’re laying it on a bit thick now, Bubblegum.”
I rolled off my perch on the bed and stood behind her. I reached my arms around her waist. She leaned back into me, smiling. I slowly lifted my hands up and touched her amazing, ripped belly with my fingertips. I traced a few lines of the toned muscles there.
“I like that,” she smiled, “you know, in case you were wondering.”
“Me too,” I just kept stroking her stomach.
I drew my hands up her belly, slowly, waiting for her to stop me because it was further than we’d gone before. She didn’t though. She just closed her eyes and leaned her head back onto my shoulder.
I gently cupped her chest through the bra and she let out the cutest little sigh. She turned her head and nibbled my earlobe. “I like that too,” she giggled, “in case your were wondering. Are you into boobs, girlie?”
“Maybe, I dunno. I think I’m just into you.”
She kissed my neck. “Take the bra off? Let’s find out if you’re into boobs.”
I pulled back enough to undo the clasp at her back. I pulled the straps gently from her porcelain shoulders. Stacey held perfectly still. She let me undress her, watching in the mirror. Even that was sexy. I pulled the bra away.
Her chest was beautiful – big round ivory spheres of boob. Her nipples were larger than mine, slightly puffy. They were also incredibly pale. Not quite as light as her skin. They were the palest, most delicate, barely-pink color. Their only flaw, not really a flaw so much as just different, was that they went inwards instead of out. Inverted. I’d never seen that before and I think I looked too long because Stacey shifted uncomfortably.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32