An April Night (mm,ff,bisex story)

An April Night

Synopsis: Monica confesses to her husband that she's always had desires for other women, desires that drive her crazy with wanting at times. He agrees that she should pursue these desires. The problem is, who will she pursue them with? Her desires must remain a secret. The search takes awhile but finally fate seems to smile on her, or does it?

It was one of those evenings when the sex was particularly good between them. After ten years of marriage it still delighted them that they could enjoy evenings like this. They had started off in the living room, after the children had gone to bed for the night. Roger had found an adult movie at the rental place that appealed to both of them - something with lots of steamy sex scenes and some semblance of a plot. They drank a bottle of chilled white wine while they watched and gradually their fingers began to probe under clothing, to grasp at slippery and erect parts. Soon the movie was completely forgotten as they shed their garments and moved to the floor next to the couch.

Monica Benton was 30 years old on this night. She sighed in contentment as her husband moved his mouth down across her neck and onto her bare breasts. They were C-cups, neither too large nor too small, a perfect handful for his fingers, the nipples a perfect size to fit between his lips. He suckled her gently, sending tingles of pleasure up and down her body. He kissed his way further south, across her ribs and down to her stomach. The flesh here was smooth and baby soft. The few stretch marks from her pregnancies only added character to it. He ran his tongue back and forth across her tummy, paying particular attention to the belly button. Finally he moved his head even further down. Her legs opened to accommodate him, her sex swollen and wet, the dark brown bush of pubic hair damp with her fragrant juices.

Her legs slid up and down his bare shoulders as she waited for him to put his mouth upon her. He hesitated teasingly, picking up the wine glass that he had been sipping from. It was still half full of chardonnay. He moved it until it was just above her pussy lips.

"What are you doing?" she said breathlessly.

"Just flavoring my meal a bit,' he answered teasingly.

"Don't you dare spill any of that on the carpet."

He didn't answer. Instead he tipped the glass slowly, letting a small stream of the liquid spill out onto her sex. She moaned as she felt the cold wine on her lips. He lowered his head and put his tongue to her, licking up what he had spilled. The contrast of cold and hot made her cry out in pleasure.

He ate her for more than fifteen minutes, drawing two sharp orgasms from her body. Finally she demanded that he fuck her and that he fuck her hard. He was only too happy to oblige. He climbed atop and slid his hardness deliciously inside of her.

They rutted on the floor for another fifteen minutes, their bodies becoming sweaty and slick, their odor rising into the air, their hearts beating faster and faster. Monica came two more times before Roger spilled his seed within her, blasting her cervix with wet warmth.

Afterward, they lay together on the floor, side by side, the ceiling fan slowly revolving above them, sending a draft down to dry their sweaty skin. Monica felt content, fulfilled, but at the same time, she didn't, at least not the way she thought that she should. Something was missing from her life, something that she craved like a drug and always had, something that had bothered her ever since her adolescence.

She looked over at Roger. He was staring upward, a relaxed expression upon his face. She wanted to tell him her secret, had been working herself up to the confession for weeks. Now it was time. The circumstances for the telling could never be better.

"Honey?" she said softly, feeling her nerves clench up, wanting to abort the confession before it even started. She had no idea how he would react. But at the same time, she had to tell him, had to get it off her chest before it tore them apart.

"Yeah?" he said, almost dreamily as his fingers played idly with her thigh.

"I have something that I need to... uh... tell you."

His eyes opened a little wider at her tone. His head turned to look at her. "What is it?" he asked slowly.

She took a deep breath, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Her mouth refused to open and say the words. God, she couldn't really say this to him, could she? What would he think of her? Would he divorce her? Would he try to take the children away from her?

Alarmed at the way that a pleasant evening had suddenly turned so serious, he rolled up on his side and put his hands on her shoulders. "Honey," he said gently, "what is it? Why are you crying?"

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head, feeling herself chicken out. This wasn't the right time to bring it up. It just wasn't the right time.

"I can't never mind now," he said, all sorts of evil possibilities going through his head. Was she having an affair? Had she met someone else? After all, their relationship had been a bit strained over the last few years, strained in some way that he had never quite been able to put his finger on. They fought over the littlest things at times, with no underlying reason readily apparent. They seemed on different wavelengths much of the time and he had no idea why. Was the final hammer about to fall here? Was she about to confess some terrible sin to him? "What is it? What do you need to tell me?"

"Oh god," she said, breaking into sobs.

He held her to him, feeling her skin against his, feeling her tears on his bare shoulder. He caressed her with his hands and whispered soothing words into her ear. At last she calmed down once again, allowing him to gently probe at her to reveal her secret, whatever it might be.

"I have a problem," she said at last, trembling, wishing that she'd never brought this up. Roger was going to hate her. She just knew it.

"A problem?" he said. "What kind of problem?"

"A problem with... with... with... you know... women."

He blinked. "With... women?" he asked. "I'm not sure I'm following you here hon."

Another deep breath. "I uh... like women," she told him. "You know? Like them."

"You mean that you're attracted to them?" he said slowly.

More tears fell. She felt the sobs coming back. "Yes," she managed to choke out. "I'm attracted to women. I like looking at them. I can't help it! I've tried to not think about it and I've tried not to... you know... be like that. But I can't! And I can't pretend that I'm not like that any more!"

His face remained expressionless. His hands slowed in their comforting strokes upon her shoulders. "You're telling me that you are sexually attracted to women?" he said at last.

"Yes," she said ashamedly. "That's what I'm telling you."

He swallowed a few times. "How long have you... uh... been like this?" he asked.

She wiped a tear from her face. "Since I was a teenager," she admitted. "Ever since I started to get boobs and have my period. It's always bothered me that I feel this way but I can't help it. I just can't help it!"

His face flushed a little. "Do you uh... I mean are you still attracted to me? Were you ever attracted to me?"

"Oh god yes," she assured him quickly and truthfully. "I'm not a lesbian. I like looking at guys just as much as girls. I love you and I'll always love you and I love... you know... having sex with you. It's just that I also have this... this... craving for women too." She shook her head miserably. "I can't help it. I really can't!"

He nodded thoughtfully, many things suddenly becoming clear about his wife in an instant. The clues had been there for him their entire relationship; he had just never bothered putting them together before. He had always known that Monica was different than the other women he had dated in his life, different than the wives of his friends. Monica liked to watch pornographic movies with him, had actually bought them herself on occasion. And hadn't she always seemed more than passingly interested in the female-female scenes in such productions? Hadn't she, in fact, once bought a movie that consisted entirely of such scenes, claiming that she'd done it by accident? And hadn't she watched that movie with him anyway, fucking him afterward with an enthusiasm that was rarely matched? And the computer they owned. Wasn't he always finding adult web sites in the history folder? Web sites that featured big breasted women? Web sites that he knew that he himself had never visited? And then there was the way that she looked at other women. Hadn't he noted on occasion that it seemed a little more than the casual competitive glances that most women gave one another? Hadn't it seemed that she was almost ogling them at times?

"Honey?" Monica said, her voice breaking pathetically. "Do you... do you... hate me?"

"Hate you?" he asked, genuinely shocked that she would think such a thing. "No. Why would you say that?"

"Well... because I just told you that I'm some sort of pervert. I'd understand if you hated me. Really I would. I just..."

He shook his head strenuously. "You're not a pervert babe," he assured her. "It sounds like you're bisexual. That occurs through no fault of yours and it doesn't make you a bad person." He cleared his throat a little. "To tell you the truth, this whole discussion has kind of turned me on."

"Turned you on?" she asked, shocked, thinking that he was putting her on. And then she looked down at his cock, which, despite the fact that he had just spent in her, was now well over three-quarters hard once again. Yes, he was definitely turned on. It wasn't often that he recharged that quickly. "Why would that make you excited?"

"Baby," he said sincerely, "you have just told me something that every man dreams of having his wife tell him. I am far from offended."

"Men want their wives to be bisexual?" she asked, astounded.

"Hell yeah," he said with a lascivious grin. "We love that whole woman on woman thing. It's hot. Even those religious fanatics that scream about it probably whack off thinking about two chicks going at it." He looked at her pointedly. "Have you ever... you know... done anything with another woman?"

"No," she said. "I've always tried to keep this buried. It's just in the past two years that it wouldn't stay buried anymore."

"Not even a little kissing or titty squeezing?"

She laughed for the first time since initiating the discussion, realizing that she felt much better, as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Nothing had changed of course, but at least her secret was no longer a secret. "No, not even a little titty squeezing," she told him.

He seemed disappointed by this revelation but quickly shrugged it off. "But you want to though, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied, "I want to. I won't of course, but I feel better just..."

"You won't?" he interrupted. "Why not?"

"Well... because it would be cheating on you," she told him. "I would never do that."

He turned serious again. "Listen babe," he told her. "If you were to go out and screw some dude, then I would consider that to be cheating and I would respond appropriately. But if you were to go out and have sex with another woman..." he shook his head, "... it's just not the same thing. I have no problem whatsoever with you doing that. In fact, I will actively encourage you to do that."

She wasn't completely sure that she was hearing him right. "You... want me to go have sex with another woman."

"Yes," he replied. "I want you to be happy. If that's something that you want to do, I'm all for it. All I ask is that you don't hide it from me. I want to know when you do it."

This was all quite overwhelming for her. She had started this discussion with the idea that her husband might be kicking her out of the house when it was done. Now he was telling her to go ahead and do what she had always wanted to do, what she had always fantasized about. She didn't know how to respond.

He convinced her however, that he was serious about what he said. They stayed up for two more hours, discussing the ramifications of what had been learned and what was being suggested. They finished another bottle of wine while they talked of what kind of woman she would like to make love to and what she would like to do to her. Twice during the discussion they became so excited that they screwed like animals right there on the floor.

In the end, she happily agreed that she would pursue such a relationship if the opportunity presented itself. From that point on, their marriage took a subtle but marked change for the better. Honesty had a way of doing that.


More than a year passed. Though their marital relationship still had its ups and downs, as any such relationship does, much of the strain that had marked the previous year had evaporated now that her secret was out. She had accepted the fact that she was bisexual and with the acceptance much of the shame and embarrassment evaporated as well. She was no longer afraid to admire the smooth forms of women. She was no longer afraid to discuss her feelings about this with Roger. In fact, they now had great fun comparing notes with each other about who was attractive, who wasn't, who the other would like to get their hands and/or mouth upon.

The only problem was that she had still not been able to act upon her desire. She wanted to make love to another woman with all of her heart and, thanks to the discussions with Roger, she was reasonably certain that she could do such a thing without affecting her marriage. The problem was finding the right woman to make love to. This had turned out to be much more of an obstacle than she ever would have thought.

It wasn't that she didn't know any lesbians. On the contrary, as a nurse in St. Vincent's Hospital Emergency Room, she frequently came into contact with many women who enjoyed the fair sex. Many of the female paramedics who brought patients to her day after day were lesbians, as were a few of the nurses and even one of the doctors. One of the paramedics, Sydney Redding of Medic 8, had even come on to her a few times, seeming to sense the desires within her. But all of those women were very butch. Even Sydney, who was perhaps the most feminine of them, had short hair, bulging muscles, and tattoos. Monica didn't want a butch lesbian; she wanted a soft, cuddly female to sleep with. In specific, she wanted a tall, feminine woman with large breasts and nice legs. She wanted someone who looked like her.

She knew that all lesbians and bisexual women could not possibly be of the bull-dyke category. It just seemed that all of the ones who openly advertised themselves as being of that orientation were. There had to be a woman of the sort that she desired somewhere, within reach. There was just no easy way to identify them and to hook up with them, not without revealing herself as a bisexual anyway, something that she was loath to do in the close-knit emergency medical community in which she worked or in the even closer-knit world of law enforcement wife that she lived in.

Several times since confessing her desires to Roger and being given the go-ahead to pursue them, she had thought that she was receiving signals from women that she came into contact with. One had been a temporary billing clerk in the emergency room, a thin, exquisitely fit woman who had made a point of touching her arm, her shoulder, her back whenever circumstance allowed it. Another had been the girlfriend of one of her husband's cop friends at the Sheriff's Department Christmas party. This woman had actually danced with her out on the floor, close enough for their breasts to rub together through their clothing. Yet another had been one of the single mothers at her children's elementary school. They had drank lattes together for several weeks running after dropping off the children and the woman had made a point of mentioning how sexually frustrated she was since her divorce.

All of these women she would have slept with in an instant had she been given the chance. But none of them had given her quite enough of a hint that sexual contact was what they were after and Monica, inexperienced at this game of female-female love and very cognizant of her reputation, had been unwilling to take the chance and provide a hint of what she would be willing to do.

"You want to be seduced, don't you?" Roger had asked her after one such relationship had failed to come to fruitation. It seemed at times that he wanted her to consummate her desires as much as she did.

"Yes," she'd agreed. "I think that's what I need for this first time. I need the other woman to make the first move, to let me know exactly what she wants from me. I want her to be the aggressor. I don't know how to do it."

"Someone will come along," he told her encouragingly, his hand caressing her bare breast. "God will provide."

"I just hope that he provides soon," she pouted. "I'm walking around with my panties wet all the time thinking about it. If I don't do it soon, I think I'm going to explode."


April Wilson began working in the emergency room about a month later. She was very tall, nearly six feet in height, though reasonably well proportioned for her stature. Her hair was a lusciously dark shade of brown, cut to shoulder length and carelessly curled in a fashion that was curiously attractive. Her legs were long and lean, or at least they appeared to be beneath the baggy scrub pants that she wore on duty. Perhaps most impressive about her were her breasts, which were well above the average size. The first time that Monica laid eyes upon her she felt a gush of moisture flooding her sex as she imagined those beautiful breasts bared before her, as she imagined those long legs wrapped around her back while her face was buried between them. The attraction was so powerful that she shuddered a little. She was actually tongue-tied when Mandy, the charge nurse, introduced her to April and asked her to help orient her to the department.

It took only eight hours of working with her for Monica to figure out that there was some sort of electricity between the two of them. It was a current similar to what she had felt with the husband's friend's girlfriend, with the billing clerk, with the school mother, similar but more powerful, more defined. By the end of that first day together they were chatting like lifelong friends, sharing intimacies with each other that even best friends sometimes withheld. They had lunch together in the cafeteria during their shift and they stopped at a nearby bar after it for a drink. By the time she got home her panties were so wet that she feared the odor of her arousal was leaking out. The moment she went through her front door she stripped off her clothing and virtually attacked Roger, who had been dozing off in the bedroom.

"You must've met a new woman today," he grunted as she swallowed his semi-hard cock in her mouth and began sucking him to a full erection.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked between licks and sucks, as her hand played between her legs.

"Let's just say that I've come to recognize the signals," he told her between moans as she devoured him.

She sucked up and down until he was nice and hard and then slid up his body, so that she was straddling him. Taking his wet cock in her hand she put it against the swollen, dripping lips of her pussy and sank down upon him in one quick motion. She fucked up and down enthusiastically, rubbing her aching clit against his pubic bone with each downthrust. Soon a powerful orgasm went rippling through her. Roger's seed blasted into her body shortly after.

"So tell me about her," he said later, as they lay atop the covers, basking in the afterglow.

"Her name is April," she said dreamily. "She just transferred to the ER from upstairs somewhere. She's been divorced for a year and has two kids."

"I don't care about that crap," Roger said with feigned exasperation. "What does she look like? And does she like eating beaver?"

She slapped at him playfully. "You have such an eloquent way of terming things, you know that?"

"Yes, I do," he replied seriously. "So give. What are the vital statistics? Let's hear the story."

And so she told him about the shift that she had just enjoyed in the company of her new friend. She admitted that there had been no overt discussion of sexuality or even any innuendo in that direction. But all the same she felt that there had been something firing between the two of them.

"That's bitchin baby," he said encouragingly. "Maybe this one is the one you've been waiting for."

She soured a little. "Maybe," she said, doubt creeping into her voice. "I'm still stuck with the same old problem of how to pursue it though. I mean, I might be wrong about her, probably am in fact."

"Just feel her out a little... uh, so to speak anyway. See if she drops any hints. Maybe drop a few of your own."

"That's where it all falls apart though," she complained. "If I make some sort of pass at her and I'm wrong, do you have any idea how humiliated I would be? Everyone would know about me then. Everyone."

"Maybe she's having the same problem," he suggested. "Maybe all of the women that you've met were having that problem."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "I just need the other woman to make the first move. That's the only way I'm going to be able to do this. I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about what they want from me."

"Well, see what develops," he told her. He yawned and then began to drift off to sleep. Soon he was snoring away. Monica lay awake for a long time after, thinking about April and what she would like to do with her.


Monica continued to orient April to her new job for the rest of that workweek. As the days went by and she showed her the ropes of working in a busy emergency room, the two of them became closer and friendlier with each other. They ate their lunch together in the cafeteria each day and they went by the bar for a nightcap when the shift was over. As they spent more and more time together and as they talked of their lives, their hopes, their children, Monica found herself growing increasingly infatuated with her new co-worker. She had to fight to keep from staring at those large breasts as they moved from one place to the other and as they cared for the endless stream of patients that filtered through the department. She wanted to touch those breasts with her hands, feel them and squeeze them between her fingers, tweak the nipples. She wanted to taste them with her mouth, lick them and suckle them and feast upon them. At times it seemed like her mouth was watering from the sight of them, particularly when they moved patients from one bed to another, which would cause April's scrub top to fall away from her chest and allow her a tantalizing view down the front.

Never, during any of this time, did April give any indication that she might be interested in a sexual interlude with Monica. Though she made no secret of the fact that she hadn't enjoyed a man's company in well over six months, she gave no hints as to whether or not she would enjoy a woman's. Monica, in keeping with her policy of maintaining a low profile regarding her own desires, made no such hint as well. She behaved only as a friend, not as a woman who lusted after someone. Each night when she got home she mounted Roger with her wet pussy and ground herself to a semi-satisfying orgasm to relieve the tension that had built up over the course of the day.

"So are you getting anywhere with her?" Roger asked her on Friday night, as they lay in bed after the latest act of sexual frenzy.

"Not really," she admitted. "She hasn't given me any sort of clue that she even swings the other way. Maybe this magnetism that I'm feeling is just in my head. Maybe it's just because I want to... you know... do it so bad. My mind might be playing tricks on me."

"I suppose that's possible," Roger told her analytically. "But if nothing else, I'm surely reaping the benefits of this thing. I've been laid every night for a week."

She grinned affectionately at him. "I guess she does have a rather powerful effect on me. I hope you don't mind me using you as a vibrator when I get home."

"The vibrator's at your service," he told her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Well," she said as she snuggled up to her man and prepared to drift off to sleep, "let's see what happens next week. I have one more week to orient her. If nothing else, I'll come home horny every night."


The next week went pretty much the same as the one before it. They worked side by side all day, had lunch together in the cafeteria, and then had a nightcap together after the shift ended at 11:00 PM. Their conversations remained on the typical female-female level, never inching into anything else. Monica continued to ogle April's breasts whenever she could get away with it and continued to come home with wet panties every night. The magnetism that she sensed from her friend however, seemed to persistently flow between them, making it hard to convince herself that it was all in her mind.

"I swear I caught her checking out my boobs a few times," she told Roger on Thursday night as they lay in bed. "Believe me, as someone who always checks out other women and pretends not to, I know what it looks like."

"So make a move," Roger prompted her, not for the first time. "Drop some sort of hint to her and see what she does. Make it something that you can pass off as a joke if she takes it the wrong way."

She shook her head strenuously. "I just can't!" she complained. "I couldn't pull it off. You know me. I can't lie worth a shit."

Roger had to agree with her there. She couldn't lie worth a shit. "Well, maybe something will work out," he told her. "And if not, at least you get to stare at her tits all day."

It was Friday, the last day of their workweek, that something different happened. They were in the cafeteria, eating the hospital's version of chicken enchiladas, when April told Monica that she would have to bow out of the after-work drink that night.

"Really? How come?" Monica said, hiding her disappointment. The late evening stops at the bar - with its intimate, non-workplace environment - were when she enjoyed April's company the most.

"I have to go to the gym tonight when I get off," she replied with a sour face. "I haven't worked out since my transfer became effective. I hate doing it, but I have one of those metabolisms that makes me plump right up if I don't keep up with my exercise."

Monica nodded knowingly. "I have the same thing," she told her. "I guess our bodies are pretty similar."

"Very similar," April agreed, seeming to run her eyes quickly up and down Monica's form. And was there a hint of appreciation in that look?

"I usually go to the gym in the morning before I come to work," Monica said next, feeling tingly all over from the possibly imagined scrutiny she had just undergone. "Do you go to one of those twenty-four hour workout places?"

"Yes," she said. "Riley's gym over on Azevedo Avenue. It's really cool going there at 11:30 at night. Hardly anyone is in there, it's quiet, I don't have to wait for any of the machines, and if I want to swim, the pool is usually empty too."

"Really?" Monica said. "I never thought about that. Maybe I should look into joining up there. I'd much rather work out before I come home instead of before I go to work. That way I wouldn't be sore and tired all day."

"If you want," April offered, "you could come with me sometime as a guest. Then you could check it out and see if you like it there or not."

"Sure, I'd like that."

"Well how about tonight then?" she asked her. "Think you could handle two workouts in a day?"

Monica smiled. "I think I could handle it. I'll have to run home first and get my clothes."

"No problem. You said you didn't live too far from here, right?"

"Just ten minutes away."

"Cool. I'll just wait out in the parking lot for you then. It'll be nice to have someone to work out with for once."

"Yeah," Monica said, feeling a fresh gush of moisture flooding her as she thought of April dressed in spandex. "It really will be."


They pulled into the parking lot of Riley's 24 Hour Workout at 11:50 that night. They were able to park up front since there were only two other cars present. April led Monica inside the building where they signed in with a bored looking employee who was watching Jay Leno on a small television set. After passing through the foyer they entered the main part of the gym itself, with its rows of exercise machines, treadmills, stationary bicycles, and weight machines. Only two of the machines were currently in use, one, a bike, contained a middle-aged man who was pedaling away, the other a treadmill where an even older woman was marching off miles. Carrying their gym bags in their hands they walked to the entrance of the female locker room and went inside.

Rows of lockers took up the bulk of the room, a long bench stretching between each row. On the far wall were a series of private shower stalls. April led Monica to the center of the room and her assigned locker. She dropped her bag onto the bench, opened the combination lock, and swung the door open. The inside of the locker was empty except for a few bottles of water and a box of tampons.

"You can stash your scrubs in my locker while we work out," she said, opening her bag and pulling out her workout clothes. "You brought clothes for afterward, didn't you?"

"Uh... yes," Monica said, looking at the spandex shorts and sports bra that her friend held in her hand.

"Good," April told her, offering a slight smile. "Let's get changed then."

Without any further ado, she pulled off her scrub shirt and dropped it to the bench, leaving her standing in a white cotton bra that confined her large breasts tightly. She reached behind her and undid the clasp, letting the bra drop free and exposing those huge mammaries to the air. April saw that the nipples, which were the size of dimes, were partially erect. She had to restrain the urge to lick her lips.

Realizing that she was almost staring at her friend and that in a moment her actions would begin to seem inappropriate, she began fumbling with her own clothing. She kicked off her shoes and then pulled her shirt over her head, setting it down on the bench. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that April, her chest still bare, had dropped her pants, revealing a slinky pair of purple panties that were almost brief enough to be considered a thong. They were also somewhat translucent, allowing her to see the dark shadow of her friend's pubic hair - which looked as if it had been trimmed into a narrow strip - showing through. Again she fought back the urge to sigh, to lick her lips, to make some gesture of appreciation at the partial nudity before her.

"Are you all right?" April asked as she unfolded her sports bra and tried to find the proper alignment for donning it. "You look a little funny."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Monica told her dismissively, although she felt a blush rising to her face.

April either didn't notice or pretended not to. She played with the sports bra for another few seconds and then pulled it over her head and down her chest, finally tucking her breasts into it and hiding them from view (although a very nice cleavage was left behind). She then reached down and picked up her black spandex shorts, which she stepped daintily into and pulled up her long, lean legs.

"Your legs are really nice," Monica couldn't help but say as she dropped her own scrub pants, leaving her standing in only panties and bra. "You must work on them a lot."

"That's where I put any extra weight," April replied. "There and in my butt. That's why I do toning exercises for the glutes and the thighs and the calves." She looked up and down Monica's body for a moment. "Yours are in pretty good shape too. You must do your workout on the treadmill."

Monica blushed a little deeper under the gaze. "Yes," she said. "I try to do three miles. All my weight goes in the same places as yours."

She smiled, pulling a half shirt over her head and settling it on her torso. Now her chest was covered but her tight lower belly and navel were still exposed. "We're just two peas in a pod, aren't we?"

"I guess so," Monica said, a hint of nervousness now entering her voice. Had there been something in the way that she had said "two peas in a pod"? It seemed that there had been, but again, maybe she was wrong. She was on unfamiliar ground here and had no idea how to proceed, or even if there was anything to proceed to.

"Well?" April said, raising her eyebrows a bit.

"Well... uh... what?" she asked.

"Are you going to finish getting dressed or are you going to stand there in your bra and panties all night?"

"Oh," she said with an embarrassed giggle. "Sorry."

"You do look cute in them," April told her, her voice softening a bit. "But I really think that the staff would prefer you get dressed before you use the machines."

Monica swallowed, feeling the color go rushing into her face again. She had told her that she looked cute! What did that mean? Did it mean that she was attracted to her? Or was it just innocent, friendly talk? And if she was attracted to her, what did that mean? Could it mean that her dream was approaching reality? Or was just dealing with unconscious flirtation? This was all so complicated!

"Earth to Monica," April said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Are you still with me?"

With a start she realized that she had been just standing there and blushing, her mouth agape, for an unknown length of time. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head a little. "Just a little... uh... tired I guess."

"You don't have to work out tonight if you're too tired. I won't be offended if you want to call it a night."

"Not at all," she said, putting a smile on her face. "I was just spacing out a little. Won't happen again." With that she reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. She let it drop, revealing her own medium sized breasts. April seemed to take an appreciative glance at them as they were bared, a glance that might have been imagination. With trembling hands she picked up her own sports bra and put it on.

A minute later their gym bags were stashed in April's locker and they were out on the floor. They worked out for nearly an hour, April utilizing the weight machine to work her legs and then mounting the ski machine for aerobic exercise. Monica used a treadmill and ran a quick two miles and then went and grabbed a stationary bike next to April's ski machine. They chatted about neutral things until they were both breathing too hard to carry on a conversation.

As she pumped the pedals of the bicycle and drove her heart rate into the mid-hundreds, Monica took every opportunity to cast surreptitious glances at her companion. Whether she was misreading the signals or not, whether there were even any signals to misread or not, April still looked stunning in her workout outfit. She watched her boobs jiggling up and down with each clank of the machine, watched the rivulets of sweat track down her face and her neck and soak into the cotton of her shirt. She watched her long, firm legs pulse and contract, the skin glowing red from the exertion. God how she wanted her, how she longed to lick that sweat from her face, to stroke those legs with her hands, to suck those breasts like a nursing baby!

Several times April glanced over at her and seemed to notice her looking. She would smile in a friendly way each time, the smile that one friend gives another out of camaraderie when communication is not possible. She hoped that the expression on her face during these times was not as hungry as it felt to her.

Finally, after a cool down period, their workouts came to an end. They drank from their water bottles, rehydrating themselves, and then headed back for the locker room.

"I'm glad I did this tonight," April said as they entered the empty room once more. "Now I don't feel guilty anymore."

"I feel double unguilty," Monica said, following behind her and admiring the backs of her legs. "I worked out twice today now."

April laughed, leading her friend to her locker and opening it back up. She pulled out Monica's gym bag and handed it to her and then pulled out her own. "Let's get showered up and get out of here," she said, pulling her damp shirt over her head. A second later the sports bra followed it. A moment after that, the spandex and the panties went as well, leaving her completely naked.

Monica undressed slower, her eyes continually returning to appraise April's body as she dropped her own clothing. Her friend was so beautiful, so desirable standing there like that! Sweat glistened off of her skin, giving her an erotic sheen. Her breasts hung invitingly down, the nipples now fully erect. And she could now see her pubis. Her dark brown pubic hair had indeed been shaved into a narrow, vertical strip about an inch and a half wide. The vaginal area itself however, was completely clean-shaven, as bare as the proverbial baby's butt. Monica could plainly see her pussy lips puffing out at her. She could also smell her friend. The wet, musky odor of fresh perspiration. She felt her own lips becoming wet again, knew that they were probably swelling open in arousal.

"You're looking at me," April said softly as she noticed Monica's gaze.

Monica was instantly mortified. She had been caught ogling another woman! Not just looking at her, not even staring at her, but actually ogling her like a teenage boy who finds himself in the women's locker room. She felt the sexual excitement that she had just been experiencing begin to swirl away, shame and embarrassment swirling up to replace it. "I'm sorry," she stammered out. "I was just uh..."

"It's okay," April told her with a smile, her hand coming out and giving a light stroke across Monica's cheek. "I don't mind."

With that she turned and walked towards the showers, a towel flung carelessly over her shoulders, her naked buttocks swaying sexily. She opened one of the stalls and stepped inside, the door closing behind her.

Monica stared after her, unsure if she had heard her friend right, unsure if the entire episode had really just happened or if it had been a figment of her imagination. I don't mind? What did that mean? What was she trying to tell her?

She continued to gaze at the closed shower door, her mouth hanging open, her bra half-removed, her spandex shorts lying on the tile floor. She heard the sound of the shower starting up from behind it. Finally she finished removing her clothing and picked up her towel out of her gym back. She padded across the floor in her bare feet and stopped just outside the door, staring at the handle, wanting to reach out and touch it, turn it, walk inside. What would happen if she did just that? Would April scream out? Demand that she get her perverted ass out of there that instant? Or would she invite her in?

Her hand reached out towards the knob, the fingers trembling. She didn't touch it. She walked to the next stall and went inside, closing the door behind her and shutting herself in, alone. Her pussy was absolutely dripping with secretions, so much that it seemed they were running down her legs. As the warm spray hit her body she put her fingers between her legs and stroked her swollen clit a few times, knowing that if she kept this up for a minute or so she would have a powerful orgasm. In the end, she didn't quite dare to do this either. She soaped up, rinsed off, and then shut off the water. As she toweled herself dry her nipples continued to stick out before her, as rigid as stone.

When she exited the stall, her towel wrapped around her breasts and groin, she found April standing before the lockers once again. She was still nude and was patting herself dry with her towel. Her leg was resting up on the bench and her body was turned slightly towards Monica, which served to display her hairless crotch for her viewing pleasure. Monica's breathing stopped momentarily as she saw the puffy, reddened lips. They were shiny with moisture and the clit was standing out prominently. They were lips that looked ready for action, ready for a mouth and tongue to ravage them. And oh how she longed to have her lips and tongue be the ravisher.

"Good shower?" April asked, seemingly unaware of what she was doing to her companion.

"Yeah," Monica responded with a mouth that was suddenly dry. "It was... uh... nice."

"Those private stalls are cool, aren't they?" she asked, dabbing at her right breast a little with the towel.

She could only nod in agreement, her eyes still feasting on the sight of April's pussy.

April looked at her face for the first time and smiled as she noted where her eyes were aimed. "I see you're checking out my shave job," she said.

"I'm sorry," Monica said, blushing again. "I've just never... I mean I haven't... I mean..."

"It's okay," April told her soothingly. "I told you. I don't mind being looked at. I've been keeping it trimmed down like this for the past couple of months. What do you think? Do you like it?"

"It's uh... uh... very pretty," she managed to say.

April beamed. "Thank you. I think the shaving makes it look much more appetizing if you know what I mean."

"Appetizing," Monica heard herself say as her tongue unconsciously reached out to lick her upper lip. "Yeah."

"Of course I was afraid that shaving it would make the skin around it rough like a man's face," she told her next. "It didn't though. Not when I rub baby oil over it a couple of times a day."

"Buh... buh... baby oil?"

"Uh huh," she said with a matter-of-fact nod. "I just put some in my hands and rub it all over the lips and the skin around it, let it sink in."

Monica was now trembling with lust, no longer caring that she was unabashedly staring at another woman's pussy and that the other women knew she was doing it.

"It keeps it nice and soft, just like a pussy should be, huh?"

"I uh... guess," Monica said, swallowing with a gulp.

"Here," April told her, reaching out to her. "Let me see your hand."

"My hand?" she asked.

"Yeah," April said, reaching out and grabbing her right hand in her left. "Check this out. Feel how soft it is."

With that she pulled her hand forward, putting it between her legs. Monica felt her fingers touching the soft, silky skin of her bare vulva. It was damp and radiating an exciting heat. She almost moaned at the contact, her first touch of another woman's nether region.

"You see?" April said, gently moving Monica's hand up and down over the outside of her pussy, allowing her to feel the slippery lips, the nub of her clitoris poking out. Wetness from her juices smeared all over her fingers. "That doesn't feel like a man's face now, does it?"

"No," Monica gulped, her breathing now irregular, her body tingling with lust and excitement. Unable to help herself she slid her middle finger upward, sliding it between the swollen pussy lips. The tight muscles surrounded her digit, clenched at it.

"Mmmm," April sighed at the intrusion, doing nothing to stop her. "I like that. You have nice fingers."

Encouraged by her friend's reaction, Monica inserted her index finger as well. She then slid them deeply inside, past the second knuckle. She could hardly believe that she was doing this, that she was actually standing in a gym locker room with her fingers up another woman's vagina. But there was no denying the reality of the situation, no denying the clench of those membranes against her.

"That's right," April whispered to her. "Finger fuck me. Fuck me with your hand." She reached out with her own hand and began stroking the side of Monica's face once again.

Monica emitted a small moan, unable to formulate any words as her fingers drove in and out of that slippery chasm, as the fragrant juices ran down the back of her hand. April's fingers tracked across her face and over her mouth, her middle finger probing between her lips. Taking the hint, she sucked the finger in and began tonguing it, treating it like a small cock.

"You're an eager one, aren't you?" April whispered to her, leaning closer, so that her breasts were rubbing against Monica's upper arm. "You'd eat me out right here in this locker room, wouldn't you?"

Monica trembled, her body wracked with forbidden desire, her mind still trying to convince her that this was really happening. She moaned a little but said nothing.

"Wouldn't you?" April repeated, more forcefully.

"Yes," Monica told her, giving in to the decadence of the situation. She would drop to her knees in an instant and suck that clit between her lips if April told her to. She would suck her to orgasm right here on the floor, where anyone could come walking in any moment.

April pulled her finger out of Monica's mouth and leaned forward. She reached out with just the tip of her tongue and touched it briefly to Monica's upper lip, just enough to leave the smallest dab of saliva. She then pulled back just a bit. "Not here," she whispered. "Not for the first time. Let's go back to my place where we can do things properly."

Monica gave one more particularly hard thrust with her two fingers and then reluctantly slid them out of April's pussy. They came away soaked. She put her hands to her side and looked at her friend, her body trembling all over in wanting and confusion.

"Let's get dressed," April told her, reaching for her gym bag. "Quickly."


Five minutes later, still in a haze of lust, she was following behind April's car through the mostly deserted suburban streets. The odor of their encounter in the locker room was still clinging to her fingers. She smelled them every few seconds, just to reassure herself that the incident had really happened. She could not believe that she had just fingered April, had just told her that she would eat her on the gym floor. She had just had sexual contact with another woman! And she was one her way to the woman's house now to have more! Mixed with the black desire that she felt were the inevitable doubts and the inevitable guilt. Was she really sure that she wanted to do this? Was she really sure that she could handle the consequences afterward?

In desperation she used her cellular phone to call Roger at home. The grogginess in his voice told her that he had been asleep but he quickly perked up when she told him the reason for the call.

"You did what in the locker room?" he asked, unmistakable arousal evident in his tone.

"I fingered her pussy," she said, tingling all over at the memory yet feeling shame at the admission that she'd just made. "She took my hand and put it between her legs and I just slid them in there."

"Are you making this up to fuck with me?" he asked.

"No," she said, feeling simultaneously aroused and on the verge of tears. "I'm not fucking with you. I really did that and now she wants me to go back to her place and do more. She wants to have sex with me Rog!"

"Then have sex with her," he told her. "Isn't that what you've been wanting all this time?"

"Yes... no," she blabbered. "I don't know. Oh god, I'm so confused. I'm not sure if I really want to do this!"

"Isn't this what you've been fantasizing about for the last year?" he asked. "Isn't what you've been having dreams about? For god sakes hon, this is your chance to do it. Go do it!"

"But... but..."

"Honey," he interrupted, his voice calm and reasonable. "When you were... you know... fingering her pussy. Did it feel right to you?"


"Did it turn you on? Were you getting off on it?"

She sighed a little, going over the episode in her head and shuddering again. "Yes," she said. "I was very turned on. It felt very right."

"Then go finish what you've started," he told her. "This is your chance. Go do it."

She remained silent for the longest time, feeling the wetness that was still seeping from her slit, feeling the rubbing of her hardened nipples against her shirt. Finally, in a weak but determined voice, she said, "Okay. I'll do it."


April's house was a small Victorian in the old part of downtown Heritage. It had a driveway that led to a detached garage in the back. April parked her car in front of this garage and Monica, who had been tailing her the entire trip, parked just behind it. They met each other between the two vehicles, in the dim glow of a motion-activated porch light.

"Home sweet home," April said, showing her sultry smile. "Shall we go inside?"

"Uh... sure," Monica said, a tremor in her voice. Was it too late to back out of this? Could she still gracefully get away? She thought that she probably could but she made no move to do so.

April, who had changed into a pair of red shorts and a sleeveless blouse back at the gym, led her up the walkway to the front door. She used her key and opened it open, revealing a tastefully decorated entryway. A beeping emitted from an alarm box just inside. She absently punched a code into it and turned, motioning Monica inside.

Monica was expecting that there would be a few preliminaries before anything happened. She thought that maybe she'd get a tour of the house - which had to be close to a hundred years old - and then that maybe they would sit down and have a glass of wine or two first. No such thing happened. The moment she stepped through the doorway and the door shut behind her April took her by the shoulders and pushed her almost roughly against the entryway wall.

"What..." Monica had time to mutter before April's mouth was pushing against hers, her tongue driving between her lips. Reflexively she kissed back, sliding her own tongue against April's so they were swirling together, darting in and out of each other's mouths. Her hands came up to April's waist, feeling the soft curves beneath the cotton.

April slid her tongue out and nipped at her lip, almost hard enough to hurt. "I've wanted you so bad ever since the day I met you," she hissed at her, licking at her lower lip. "And tonight you're mine, aren't you?"

"Ohhh," Monica moaned, feeling the tremors start again, wanting this woman like she'd never wanted anything before.

"Aren't you?" she repeated, taking her upper lip between her teeth and sucking forcefully on it.

"Yes," Monica told her. "I'm yours."

April smiled a predatory smile. "Of course you are," she said. She stepped back a step, taking her hands of Monica's shoulder. In one quick motion she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra was a front-fastener. She pulled it off as well, baring her beautiful, huge breasts once more. She reached out and took Monica's hands in hers and placed them on the warm orbs, so the palms were covering the turgid nipples. "Feel them," she commanded her. "Play with them. Do what you've always wanted to do with them."

A whiny moan came from her mouth as she squeezed and palpated those glorious tits, feeling over every square inch of them. They were so soft, so sexy, so feminine. They were completely unlike anything found on a man's body.

"That's right," April said, grinding her shoulders to increase the contact. "Be rougher with them. Don't be afraid of hurting me. I like it when you're rough with them."

She squeezed harder, squishing the pliant flesh forcefully, tweaking the nipples between her fingers, pinching them. Soon they were red and almost glowing.

"You're just a little bi girl aren't you Monica?" April asked her, covering her hands with her own, helping her to squeeze and tweak. "I knew that about you from the start. You've always wanted a pair of tits like this in your hand, didn't you?"

"Yes... oh god yes," Monica nearly panted, her legs rubbing together now she was so turned on.

"Put them in your mouth," she was told. "Suck on them. Suck my big titties."

She hesitated a second, doubt trying to force its way back to the front of her mind. But April was having none of that. She put her hand to the back of Monica's head and pulled her to her chest, mashing her face directly between those huge lumps of titflesh. Her head was pushed this way and that until one large nipple slipped between her lips. She latched onto it instinctively and began to suck.

"Oh yesss," April groaned ecstatically. "I love having a girl suck on my tits. I fucking love it. Suck harder baby. Suck it like you mean it."

She sucked it like she meant it, the doubts pushed easily to the back of her mind once more as she tasted the exciting feel of hard nipple in her mouth, as she tongued up and down the ridges and bumps. She sucked and licked that breast until the nipple was engorged and angry red. She then switched to the other, feasting upon it, attacking it, unable to get enough of it.

Finally her head was pushed away. She stared up into April's face and saw features that were almost demented with lust and desire, knew that those features were a mirror image of her own face.

"Get down on your knees for me," April told her, putting her hands on her shoulders once more. She pushed on her, compelling her to do as she commanded.

Monica dropped to her knees on the entryway floor, finding herself facing the crotch of April's shorts. She was panting in desire, staring at the material covering the beautiful pussy that she had touched earlier.

"Take them off," April said.

With trembling hands she reached forward, grasping the button and popping it open. She slid down the zipper, revealing the pair of blue panties that she had donned after their games in the locker room. She hesitated again.

"Go on bi girl," April said. "You want to know what its like, then I'm going to show you. Take them off of me. Let my pussy out. She wants to see you again."

She reached into the waistband and pulled downwards, drawing the shorts and the panties down her legs in one motion, baring that neatly trimmed pussy to the air once more. The lips were even more swollen than they had been in the locker room. They were wet and slick, drenched in juices, the clit standing up like a sentinel. The musky smell hit her nose the moment it was exposed, filling her with a hunger, upping her arousal by a factor of ten. When the shorts hit the floor April raised her feet one by one, allowing her to pull them free.

"You like my pussy, don't you?" April asked. "You want to lick it and suck it, don't you?"

"Yes," Monica moaned, in a fever now. "Oh yes."

April's hand came down to the back of her head and pulled her gently forward. "Do it," she told her. "Eat me right here. Make me come on your mouth."

She had no time for second thoughts this time. She found her lips mashed against a tangy wetness, felt the slippery membranes rubbing all over her face, felt the bulging clitoris pushing against her nose. With a last moan of surrender to her impulses, she stuck out her tongue and lapped at the juices, licking up the outside of one lip, tasting the essence of another woman for the first time in her life. It was sharp tasting, sharper than her own juices tasted on her husband's mouth after he'd eaten her. It was a taste she would always remember, that she knew she would always long for now.

"Yes, that's it," April told her, her fingers twining through her hair. "Eat me. Lick my pussy raw."

She licked up and down, from bottom to top and then from top to bottom. She plunged her tongue in and out, driving it between those swollen lips as far as she could make it go. She ground her face around as she licked, pushing on the clitoral area with her nose. At times it was difficult for her to get a breath. She didn't care. She ate and ate, utilizing the same techniques that Roger used on her, doing the things that she knew would feel good, would build up to a powerful orgasm. April grunted and moaned her approval at each lick, at each suck. She brought her leg up onto an umbrella stand, opening herself up wider for her.

"You're a natural baby," April panted, her pelvis now thrusting outward. "Eat me raw. Just eat me raw!"

Monica's hands came up and grabbed the smooth cheeks of April's ass as she ate. She squeezed them between her fingers as she had done to her breasts earlier. April responded by rotating her pelvis around and around, pushing and pulling and forcing more pressure. Finally Monica took her clit into her mouth and began to suck on it, knowing that this was what Roger did when he wanted to push her over the edge. It had the same effect on April. She screamed out in pleasure and grabbed the back of Monica's head once again, driving her face forcefully onto its target.

"That's it," she grunted. "Oh god that's it. Suck my fucking clit. Suck it. Suck it. Make me come on your mouth!"

"Mmm hmmm," Monica returned, humming out the words as she continued to savage the little nubbin.

April came a moment later, her legs buckling and nearly causing her to fall to the ground as she screamed out her pleasure to the empty room. It went on for some time, well over a minute. She thrust involuntarily back and forth while juices ran down the front of Monica's face, over her neck, and onto her shirt.

When she finally pulled her face away it was soaking wet and the odor of April's pussy was burned into her brain for all time. She looked up at her lover, smiling at her accomplishment, already anticipating having the favor returned.

April reached out her hand and helped her to her feet. She came up willingly and opened her mouth when April leaned in for a deep soul kiss. They swirled tongues for almost a minute before April broke the contact and looked at her.

"You're such a naughty girl," April told her. "You made me come with your nasty little mouth, didn't you?"

"Yes," Monica agreed, kissing her cheek, the side of her neck, lapping at her with her tongue.

"And you loved it, didn't you?"


"Is this your first time?"

Monica nodded. "Yes."

April smiled. "Good," she said, dropping her hand to the swell of Monica's breast and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I've always wanted a virgin. Let's go upstairs."

She took Monica's hand and led her through the darkened house to the stairs. They ascended to a hallway, walked past a darkened bathroom, and entered through an open door. April flicked on a light switch, revealing a moderately large master bedroom done up in shades of girly pink. An old-fashioned four-poster bed was the centerpiece of the room, a frilly pink comforter neatly pulled across it. At the foot of the bed April stopped and turned around, so she was facing Monica once more. She reached out and caressed her shoulders for a moment, gently, in a massaging motion.

"I'm going to love eating you alive," she said, sliding her fingers down to the buttons of Monica's blouse. "You're going to come like you've never come before."

Monica stood silently, her body shaking in arousal and fear. April removed the blouse and then reached behind her to pull off the bra. She ran her hand over the erect nipples for a moment, barely making contact, making them tingle.

"You have the most beautiful tits," she told her. "I almost attacked them back at the locker room you know. I almost couldn't help myself."

"I know the feeling," Monica said as she pushed her shoulders forward, trying to increase the contact.

"I was hoping that you'd join me in the shower back there," she said, sliding her hands down across Monica's stomach, until her fingers reached the snap of her shorts. "You wanted to, didn't you?"

"I almost did," Monica admitted as she felt her shorts opened. "I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"I would've made sure you were nice and clean," she told her, pushing at the shorts so they fell to her feet. "It's probably just as well that you didn't. I suspect that we would still be in there right now."

Monica stepped out of the shorts and kicked them a few feet to the right. She now stood only in her panties, which were so soaked in the crotch that they were transparent.

"Lay on the bed," April told her. "I want to take them off of you while you're lying down."

She lay on her back atop the comforter, watching as April looked up and down her body, blushing under the scrutiny, hungering for more of it. Her lover leaned over the edge of the bed and reached forward, grabbing the waist of her panties. Slowly, infinitely slowly, she drew them down her legs and off, leaving her nude. She let her legs fall open submissively, baring herself.

"Beautiful," April said, reaching down and taking one of her legs in her hands. She slid her hands up and down the calf a few times, stroking the skin. She then climbed atop her, putting her soft body atop Monica's. Her large breasts dangled downward, the nipples sliding over Monica's smaller orbs, tracing circles in the flesh. She leaned down and kissed her, slipping her tongue in her mouth once again. Monica kissed back eagerly, sucking greedily on her tongue.

They kissed each other for what seemed forever, just making out like teenagers in the back of a car while their naked bodies pressed together. Monica slid her hands all over April's back, enjoying the silky soft feel of female skin, enjoying the gentle curves at her waist, palpating the robust roundness of her ass cheeks. She pulled the other woman against her, grinding her congested crotch upward, desperate for some sort of contact on her clit.

Finally April began to move downward. She did it with excruciating slowness, first kissing her way around Monica's neck, licking and tonguing each side before moving onto the shoulder blades. Monica sighed as she felt that wet tongue and those full lips on her skin, as she felt the occasional gentle nip of teeth. She felt her arms pushed upward, so they were extended above her head, and then she felt that wet tongue settle in her armpit.

"Ohh..." she squealed in pleasant surprise as April proceeded to make love to her armpit. It was an erogenous zone that she'd never realized she'd had before. Her sucking mouth sent tingles of electricity radiating up and down her body. She basked in the sensation, twisting this way and that as it flirted with the border of tickling and pleasure.

She kissed her way across the top of her chest, staying well clear of the swell of her breasts, and then tongued out the other armpit, leaving it a wet, glistening mess when she was finally done. At long last April worked her way to her breasts, deliberately avoiding the nipples as she nipped and sucked every other part of both of them.

"Please," Monica pleaded, actually feeling her nipples ache with wanting. "Suck them. Suck my titties!"

"Since you put it that way," April answered with a smile. She leaned down and took the right one in her mouth, drawing it in and imparting a delicious friction to it.

April worked the longest here. She sucked and licked and bit and manipulated each nipple until it was engorged and rock hard. Each suck of her soft mouth sent jolts of pleasure directly to Monica's clit until it seemed that she was on the verge of orgasm just from the mouth action alone. She groaned and moaned as she was suckled, her fingers running through her lover's hair, her crotch continually thrusting upward now.

After nearly ten minutes of stimulating Monica's breasts, April finally moved on, sliding further down her body and trailing kisses across her flank and over her heaving belly until she was kissing and licking the flesh of her upper leg. Monica's legs, in an involuntary action, opened wider, as wide as she could make them, so that her wares were displayed in a manner that was almost obscene.

"I can smell your pussy now," April told her, her tongue stabbing out and making quick contact with her inner thigh, with the crease between crotch and leg. "It smells like heaven to me. Do you know that?"

"Ohh," Monica moaned, thrusting up at her, desperate for her to have that wonderful mouth upon her being.

"You want me to suck your pussy bi girl?" she asked her.

"Yes!" Monica said eagerly.

"You want me to put my head between your legs and eat you out? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, oh please," she pleaded. "Do it to me. Eat me!"

"Eat what?" she teased.

"My pussy!" Monica nearly screamed. "Eat my pussy! Please, please, please! Eat me!"

April smiled one more time and then slowly put her head forward. A second later Monica felt that tongue sliding softly, slowly up her swollen lips. It reached her pulsating clitoris a second later and captured it, immediately starting to suck.

"Ohhhhh!" Monica screamed as a powerful orgasm immediately exploded within her, taking her by surprise. She writhed and rolled on the bed, her body bucking up and down like a fish out of water. Never in her life had a climax hit her with such speed, with such power. Her breathing momentarily stopped as the waves of pleasure had their way with her.

April continued to suck her clitoris until the last vestiges faded away. She then began licking up and down her pussy lips again, stimulating the lower nerves, cycling the pleasure back around for another release. It went more slowly this time, with April taking her time at her work, licking methodically up and down her slit, drawing the pleasure out, occasionally plunging her tongue inside like a small penis. Soon however, she was bucking up and down once more, her long legs wrapped around April's torso, her hands pawing at April's breasts. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it any longer, April took her clit in her mouth once more and sucked another orgasm from her, this one even more powerful than the first, strong enough to make her scream out in sheer pleasure.

April stood up, her face dripping wet, a satisfied smile upon it. "Did you like that?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh my god yes," she cried, her legs still spread across the bed, her pussy still swollen open and gaping invitingly.

"Does your husband eat you pussy for you?" she asked.

She nodded. "Yes," she panted, still feeling tingles in her groin. "He's actually pretty good at it. But it never felt like that before. Not even close."

"Men can be taught to do a decent job of it," April told her. "But they can never compare to a woman. Not one that loves to eat pussy as much as I do."

"How many times have you done this?" Monica asked, for the first time curious about her new lover's previous experience.

"Ten or twelve times," she told her. "I'm like you. I primarily like men in my life but I also love the feel of something... oh... softer against me when I get the chance. There's nothing quite like it, is there?"

"No," Monica said. "I've never had anyone do to my body what you've done to it. I've never come like that before."

April smiled. "I like to think that I've perfected my technique over the years," she said. "But we're not quite done yet my dear."

"We're not?" she asked, excited at the thought of more.

"Not by a long shot," April said, strolling over to the bedside stand. She opened a drawer and pulled out a pink, eight-inch dildo. It had nylon straps attached to the back of it.

Monica's eyes widened as she looked at it. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked nervously.

"Uh huh," April said, bringing it down to her crotch and settling it just over the top of her pussy. She ran the strap around her waist and beneath her legs, fastening it in the back. "A strap-on baby. Now I'm going to fuck you."

"But..." Monica started.

"No buts," April said, shushing her. She walked over to the side of the bed, the phallus hanging lewdly out in front of her. "It's not often I get to use my toy the way its meant to be used." She stopped right next to Monica's head and thrust forward, so the tip of the dildo was inches from her face. "Suck me," she commanded.

"April," Monica said, "I..."

April grabbed the back of her head, not harshly, but with enough force to let her know who was in charge of the show here. "I said suck me," she repeated. "Get it all nice and wet and then I'm going to fuck you with it."

Surprisingly, at least to her, she became excited by having the thing stuck in her face, excited by being ordered to suck it. Obediently she opened her mouth and put the tip in. It tasted of latex with a faint undercurrent of April's vaginal juices. She licked and slurped on it, wetting it with her saliva.

"That's right baby," April encouraged. "Suck my cock for me. Suck me like I'm your man."

When it was glistening wet and dripping with her saliva, April eased it gently from her mouth and climbed back onto the bed, so she was kneeling between Monica's legs. She took a leg in each hand and placed them on her shoulders and then scooted forward, until the tip was just touching between her still-swollen pussy lips. She looked intently into Monica's eyes.

"I'm gonna fuck you now," she told her. "I'm gonna fuck you until you come on my cock."

"Do it," Monica said eagerly, already thrusting her hips forward, trying to force the tip inside of her.

April moved forward, slowly but steadily putting the slippery dildo inside of her. It was big, both longer and thicker than her husband's cock, and it made her feel incredibly full as it penetrated her. She moaned again, her hands reaching out and pulling on April's ass to help her.

"You like that?" April asked her, bottoming out and then slowly withdrawing.

"Yes," Monica told her. "It's so... big."

"It's not as warm or as nice as a real cock," she said. "But it's got its advantages, doesn't it?" She thrust back in, a little faster this time. "It's a nice substitute for those times when there's not a real one around, don't you think?"

"Uh huh," she grunted as it slid back out, almost completely out.

April put it back in and then pulled it back out and then put it back in. Soon she was thrusting with the speed of a man, a wet squishing sound emanating from their crotches with each stroke. She let go of Monica's legs, letting them go back to the bed, and then leaned forward, so her breasts were once more dangling against Monica's. She leaned forward and kissed her, stabbing her tongue into her mouth while her pelvis continued to move up and down.

"I like to kiss while I fuck," April said between slurps of the tongues. "I love to make love to your mouth with mine."

"Mmmm hmmm," Monica said, enthusiastically kissing back at her.

The pounding dildo in her pussy made her feel so full, so stuffed. That, coupled with the erotic sensation of April's soft body atop hers, her tits rubbing against hers, her smooth legs intertwining with hers, her wonderful mouth kissing on her, soon had her straining towards yet another climax. As she screamed it out to the room once more April just kept humping away, driving her through it and into the aftermath.

Finally she slowed to a stop, her strokes gradually easing up until her pelvis remained motionless, the dildo part of the strap-on still half inside Monica's body. They shared a long, luxuriant kiss with each other and then April rested her head on her new lover's shoulder. They cuddled together, not speaking, just softly stroking each other's skin, for the better part of a half an hour, until the sweat dried on their skin, until their bodies lulled into the dreamy afterglow.

At last April pushed herself up and slowly pulled the dildo out of its tight sheath. She rolled over on her back next to Monica and stared up at the ceiling for a second before turning her head to look at the other woman.

"How do you feel?" she asked her softly.

"Confused," Monica answered truthfully.

April nodded. "I remember my first time," she said whimsically. "I cried afterward. It's a very emotional thing."

"Yes," she agreed. That was exactly right. Different emotions, most of them conflicting with each other, were rushing through her head right now, bouncing back and forth like echoes in a canyon. Guilt, shame, arousal, fear, anger, longing, all competed for billing at the forefront of her thoughts.

"It gets easier," she offered. "If you decide you ever want to do this sort of thing again. With me or anyone else."

"Does it?" she asked, unsure if she wanted it to get easier.

"Easier, but no less erotic," she qualified. "But listen, if you want to forget that this ever happened between us, if you just want to go on as we were... I can do that. I loved having you as a lover - like I told you before, I fantasized about you from the moment I meant you - but I really liked having you as a friend too. I wouldn't want what happened here affect that friendship." She sighed. "A lot of times - most of the time in fact - it does, you know."

Monica nodded. "I don't want to lose you as a friend either," she replied. "I'm not quite sure what to make of what we just did but I'm sure about that. I like our friendship with each other. I'll try not to... well... I'll try to keep things in perspective."

April leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "That's all we can do isn't it? Keep things in perspective?"

"All we can do," she agreed.


She left April's house a few minutes later. Her body was sore, particularly her nether regions and her breasts, and her mind was troubled. She cried a little as she drove. A few minutes later she felt herself getting wet as she thought about what she had done, how April's body had felt against hers.

She parked her car in the garage and sat there for a minute, scared to go inside. She knew that Roger would be waiting up for her, eager to hear how her evening had gone. She would tell him the truth, omitting no details. She had already decided that. The question was: what would happen next? Would she be able to live with what she had done tonight? Would Roger be able to live with what she had done? Would she do it again?

With a sigh she opened her car door and stepped out, wincing a little as she bent the wrong way and irritated her inflamed vagina. She slowly walked to the door and opened it up, knowing that her life had taken a shift on its axis, wondering if it was a good shift or a bad shift.

Keys: mm ff bisex story

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