A Passion For My Own
My introduction to the love of another woman came on a
warm spring evening very recently. I find myself
confused about what it means, afraid of the emotions
the experience has unleashed. And yet I cannot rid
myself of the glow of that one breathtaking adventure.
Until it happened I had always regarded myself as very
straight. Sure, there were opportunities in college,
where I knew a few lesbians. But I had always been put
off by them, by their butch mannerisms. Perhaps in my
revulsion I was just hiding some inner truth about
myself? I never thought so until now.
As for men, well, I liked them and they sure seemed to
feel the same toward me. I never regarded myself as a
classic beauty, but I do have a fine figure. The
numbers tell part of the story, if I do say so: 5'6"
tall, maybe 120 lbs. I'm in good shape, too, thanks to
jogging and squash. Men also seem taken with my large
light brown eyes and my knockout smile.
And, like I said, I've always taken to men -- or, at
least, the male physique. There's something wonderful
about a tight pair of buns and, lets face it, a stiff
cock can satisfy some very animal urges. That delicious
sense of fullness as it stretches me that pressure of a
man's pelvic bone against my clit, have always left me
deeply satisfied.
In fact, I was so fond of the male version of the
species that I had decided last winter to marry my
steady just after I finish business school this year. I
happily wore the diamond engagement ring he had given
me at the time.
On the other hand, I guess there are aspects of men I
can do without. I've been to my share of encounter
sessions with other women and we all agree that, where
most men are concerned, a nice penis is about all they
have to offer. Otherwise they're clods. Even during
sex, when it should be special, they are always in a
rush to get off. My girlfriends and I used to joke that
"romance" and "foreplay" must seem like a foreign
language to most of them. My fiancé was better than
most; still, I wondered sometimes if he was worth the
trouble.
These secret doubts would have remained buried inside
me were it not for the events I am about to describe.
It all began during a conversation with a woman I'll
call Jackie, who is also in my business school class.
She seemed upset and distracted. Because we're close
friends, she decided to confide in me -- she had just
had her first lesbian affair with a woman in our class
who was known to be gay. Jackie was consumed by her
passion for this woman and felt her world suddenly
coming apart.
I listened sympathetically. Inside I was both
fascinated and repelled. Jackie seemed so feminine,
with her dark brown hair framing her face in gentle
curls, her pretty dark eyes, her delicate features. She
resembles me, I thought. And then suddenly I began to
feel very strange indeed...
For if Jackie could harbor such desires, what about me?
I began trembling and fought to steady myself. When she
asked me whether I had ever had any interest in another
woman, I said no rather too insistently. Reassuring her
that we would still be the best of friends, I excused
myself as soon as I thought polite.
I tried hard to put Jackie's confession and my own
curious response out of my mind. I might have
succeeded, too, had she not called a couple of days
later, on a Saturday afternoon. I was home cleaning my
apartment, which I share with another female classmate.
Sheepishly she asked if I would do her a large favor.
She had learned of a lesbian bar here in Boston, but
she was too shy to go alone. She wondered whether I
might accompany her, on a strictly platonic basis,
until she had a chance to decide that she really
belonged there. Besides, she said, the place was
reputed to have great dance music, and I do love to
dance, with anyone at any time. Before I had a chance
to think I found myself accepting.
Well, not very much cleaning got done the rest of the
day. I was unnerved and anxious. Fortunately, my
apartment-mate Kirsten was away for the weekend
interviewing for a job or I might have blurted out the
whole story to her. At least a dozen times I started to
phone Jackie to back out, but I couldn't figure out how
to do it without sounding prudish. That's what I told
myself, anyway.
Night came and I suddenly realized that I had to get
dressed for our expedition. What does one wear to
another woman's seduction? Nervous though I was, I
could still find some humor in the situation. A heavy
trench coat ought to keep their attention off me...but
you can't dance in a trench coat. It was a warm night,
so I thought I'd be casual, and settled on a clingy
blue t-shirt and white short-shorts, topped off by a
rakish broad-brimmed hat.
Stepping in front of the mirror, I took note of my
slender legs, still tanned from my last vacation, my
modest but very shapely breasts, and my innocent eyes.
Just what men like, or women, I realized with a start.
The thought wouldn't leave me.
I was beginning to feel funny about the evening. I had
to admit I was a bit excited. And then I did something
I can't explain: I put my engagement ring back into the
drawer. I don't know why. I still wore the pretty
silver watch my fiancé had given me.
Before I could make sense of my emotions Jackie was at
the door. She had chosen rather more demure attire.
"I'm not sure which of us is looking to score tonight,"
she joked. "No one will notice me." We hopped into her
car and scooted off.
The club seemed like any other disco/bar, except, of
course, for the absence of the opposite sex. Couples
were cuddling around dimly-lit tables or dancing in the
back -- only both partners were female. My old
prejudices seemed very out of place. Most of the women
were about our age, early twenties, and quite pretty.
As we made our way to the bar, I could feel many eyes
upon us. I noticed one attractive woman with very dark
eyes and a butch haircut who kept staring at me in
particular. We made small talk with several women over
our drinks. Jackie whispered to me that maybe I should
dance, so she could get better acquainted with a
stunning blonde dressed in black leather who had just
struck up a conversation.
When it comes to dancing, I am absolutely uninhibited.
The music was bouncy and hot, and I caught the beat and
began to release my tensions by shaking my hips and
wiggling anything that would wiggle. All around me were
lithe female forms twisting and writhing. Women move so
much more sensuously than men! The atmosphere was
incredibly erotic.
Finally I had to catch my breath. Returning to the bar
I discovered that Jackie had adjourned to a small booth
and was sitting very close to the blonde. I was on my
own.
"May I buy you a drink?" said a soft voice behind me. I
turned around to meet the gaze of the dark-eyed lady
who had been admiring me before. "My name is Amy. I
really like the way you dance." I began stammering that
I was there with a friend, that I was getting married
soon, that I had never been in this kind if a place
before, and... Something in her eyes just stopped me.
"Relax," she continued in a reassuring tone, "I just
wanted to find out if you're as nice as you are pretty,
and you are very pretty." I smiled at the compliment.
As we talked over drinks she continued to stare at me,
those amazing eyes of glistening coals seeming to reach
down into my soul. My mind was spinning; I felt weak in
my knees. She's seducing me, I thought to myself, and I
want her to.
Then it happened. Amy leaned forward and placed her
hand on my bare thigh, caressing it ever so gently.
"It's late, but I'm enjoying this. Would you like to
come back to my place?" Her eyes were but inches from
mine and I just melted beneath their intensity. "Look,"
she went on, "we all have a first time. I think I can
teach you a few things about yourself."
She took my hand, her fingers interlaced with mine, and
guided me toward the door. Jackie noticed us and
flashed me a knowing smile. I just smiled back,
blushing a little, and Amy and I left very much
together.
Back at her place, Amy put on some romantic music. "I
didn't get to dance with you in the bar," she said.
"This is more my speed." She encircled my hips with her
hands, I placed mine around her neck, teasing her short
red-brown hair with my long nails, and we swayed slowly
across the floor. Our eyes locked again and
I suddenly felt I had no secrets from this
extraordinary woman. Her lips brushed mine, once,
twice, and then we were kissing deeply, tongues
swirling together, teeth nibbling. It felt so right! I
threw my head back in absolute delight as Amy ran her
tongue down my neck and bit fiercely. Oh, there would
be marks to explain to my roommate the next day! Her
hands roamed my body, tracing the contours of my bottom
and the outline of my breasts. My panties were drenched
with the evidence of my arousal. Sensing my excitement,
she hurriedly drew me into the bedroom.
When it comes to undressing a woman's body, I
discovered, four female hands are quicker than two. In
moments I was naked except for my watch, which gleamed
in the soft light. As I stood before Amy, I hoped
desperately that she would be pleased with what she
found. Her eyes devoured me. Then she removed her
blouse and slacks and tossed her panties aside, and it
was my turn to admire. She had small, well-shaped
breasts and slender hips. I marveled at her perfect
muscle tone and at her skin, invitingly smooth and
luminescent.
Our bodies came together again on the bed, Amy on top,
very much the teacher she said she would be. Her lips,
so astonishingly soft, found mine in a kiss that seemed
to last for hours, building in intensity to a peak I
never dreamed possible. And then, finding my breasts
with her tongue, she teased my nipples until they were
deliciously hard, at the very point of pain. All the
while she kept her hand cupped on my mons, her palm
working in magnificent unison with her tongue. For me,
at that instant, nothing existed beyond my throbbing
clitoris and erect nipples.
But though I was on the verge of ecstasy, Amy had much
more to show me. She paused in her manipulations as I
moaned in frustration. Shushing me with another
lingering kiss, she moved her head down between my
thighs. Her tongue traced the outline of my vaginal
lips. Then, having parted my labia with two gentle
fingers, she laid siege to my exposed clitoris. Her
tongue darted close and danced away, refusing to
embrace it and release me from my growing sexual heat.
I twisted and lurched to make contact with her tongue,
but she held me too firmly. I was completely at her
mercy and loving it as I had never loved sex before.
"Turn over," she instructed, and I obeyed. Placing a
pillow under my abdomen to raise my behind, she parted
the cheeks of my ass and began licking my crack with
the flat of her tongue. I felt warmth radiate from the
spot to my face and ears, my entire body tingled, and I
squirmed about the bed in absolute heat.
Her oral explorations focused more and more around my
anus, and then, as I gasped, her tongue was probing my
tight nether hole. It seemed to open of its own accord
and Amy tasted a part of me that I had always -- so
foolishly -- held forbidden. The tingling turned into
fire. Please, I thought, please, my darling, let me
come. At that instant, as though she could read my
mind, her hand found my clitoris and I was gone.
My body clenched in one great spasm and seemed to
explode in a thousand directions at once. Great waves
of electric sensation cascaded over me. I cried out as
I flew, soaring into the heavens, then tumbling back
into a deep, dark abyss.
Gradually I became aware of the room again, the bed,
Amy's warm body pressed against mine, trying to still
my trembling. I was weeping softly. She stroked my hair
and face and kissed me gently. How could she understand
so well? "We all have a first time," she whispered.
There were more lessons that night. I learned to savor
the taste and aroma of woman in passion, stunningly
pungent yet sweet. I learned that a dildo can do the
same wonderful things a hard cock can do and never come
too soon! And, overcoming the last inhibition, I got to
do to Amy's ass what she had done to mine and to
experience the thrill of her wrenching orgasm. Dawn was
breaking over the Boston skyline as we drifted off to
sleep, arms and legs entwined. When we awoke we started
again, and, believe me, it was as fresh and
exhilarating as the first time.
It was Sunday night before I got home. The phone rang
as I came through the door. I dreaded the thought that
it might be my fiancé. But it turned out to be Jackie.
"Where have you been all day?" she asked, laughing. So
I told her my story and she told hers. It had been
quite an evening all around.
My life is different now. I know I won't give up this
new world of pleasure. I want Amy again and I want
other women too, surely lovely Jackie and I are fated
to be more than friends. The ring is still in my
drawer.
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