Chapter Twelve

Sarah was on time. I was early. Call it nerves.

Ever since Ash had left, I had been replaying the events from the previous night. Sometimes it was me and Sarah … and sometimes Sarah was replaced by someone else … and I don’t have to tell you who that was.

She took me to a café in the heart of Manchester. It was trendy, and students from the university surrounded us. Conversation once again came easy, as we talked about what our futures would hold. Sarah wanted to go into Social Work and I was leaning towards that field too, although I also knew I would change my mind many times before settling on a career.

Before we knew it, it was ten o’clock and we were being ushered out of the door. I have to admit it … I’d had a good time. Relaxed … casual.

On our way home, I could see Sarah keep sneaking looks over at me. Excitement burred inside my gut at the expectation of kissing her again, although I did feel weird getting my knickers in a twist at the prospect of kissing another woman. Doubt vied for dominance. This wasn’t right. Wanting to kiss someone of the same sex wasn’t right … why did I have to be different to everyone else? Why did I have to want something different to everyone else?

Apart from Sarah. A snigger held itself behind my lips and waited to be freed. Not tonight … that snigger was staying put.

Once again I had missed Sarah asking me a question. I just said the first thing that popped into my mind. ‘Whatever.’

And this led to a very interesting evening. A very interesting evening indeed.

Good job I hadn’t been listening, right?

                        **************************************************************

The question must have been ‘Would you mind going somewhere else before I drop you off?’ I doubt I would have said yes if I had been listening, so … in retrospect … I’m glad I have the attention span of a fruit fly.

I watched in fascination as she manoeuvred her car down the dark country lane that led to the Vale, a nature reserve that was reputedly the high spot for couples. Anticipation guided my thoughts as she pulled up underneath a tree that blocked out the last vestiges of light from the night sky.

The car was strangely silent, and I am sure I heard a pin drop somewhere outside. The squeak from her leather seat made me start, and I turned to face her, barely making out her features, just her shape.

I felt her hand take mine, cool, yet slightly shaking. Her thumb brushed over the top in much the same manner as she had done the previous night at the pictures. My breath caught in my throat and I wanted to reach forward and kiss her again.

The moisture in my mouth was beginning to form, just as it was between my legs. I must be gay … must be. I had been in situations like this with boys and all I felt was boredom … nothing in comparison to this wild, unchained feeling that decided to make itself known to me tonight.

Her voice whispered to me in the darkness, sending messages to all parts of me that needed to hear it. Soft, smooth, alluring, enticing. The words she said were nothing spectacular just ‘You know I really like you, Lou?’ But to have a woman say them to me … phew.

My tongue poked out and wet my lips. She mimicked the action, making me want to do it all over again just to see her repeat it.

She leaned towards me and I followed suit. This was it. The kiss I had been anticipating all afternoon, all night …

Her lips slipped onto my own as if they had always known the way. And I melted …

Slow movements at first, but they gradually began to build and build and build. Our breathing was getting heavy, panting, unrestrained. Snuffling noises matched the sloppiness and wetness of two mouths thoroughly engaged in combat. Tongues were slipping in and out … touching and caressing swollen lips. Hands began to tangle in hair and I felt Sarah pull me into her, and I went willingly.

God I was horny. She was horny. We were both so horny … so fucking wet. I felt her hand sneak down the side of the seat, and before I knew it, the chair was reclining, taking both of us down.

She was above me, her lips never leaving mine. Her body was hovering slightly over mine and I could feel a rhythm starting within her … her hips were moving up and down … up and down, trying to find purchase on something.

And I should know, because I wanted the same thing. God … the ache building up within me was crazy … agony … bliss. I lifted myself up from the seat, a mammoth task in the space provided, and attempted to slip one leg between hers.

Her mouth left mine and began to kiss my face before moving down my throat, her hot tongue tracing a line down the overheated flesh. A groan left my lips, which was shortly followed by a moan from Sarah … a moan that travelled along my skin, between my breasts, down my stomach and straight into my groin.

Hot lips suckled my neck, and I could feel Sarah’s fingers fighting with the buttons of my top. Pop. Pop. Pop. Slip. Stroke. Stroke. Fuck me … the sensations rattling around were becoming overbearing. Sarah was pushing the suffocating material away to expose my bra, which by now only half covered my breasts. Wetness enveloped my nipple, bringing it to attention even more than it already was. Jesus … it was … oh God …

Sarah’s lips were in control. I felt as if my whole body was taken over by a greater being … a greater need. And I didn’t care … God no.

My breathing was laboured, my heart was working so hard I felt the vestiges of delirium take me. My fingers were in her hair pushing her face into me … wanting her to eat me whole … eat me alive. Hips were pumping against legs … jeans chaffing my need, hoping for something more … something solid.

A fleeting image of Ash’s face flickered in front of me, and I felt a tinge of shame. Whatever would Ash think of me if she could see me now? Surely she would think this was wrong … this unnatural act between two women. Wouldn’t she?

A pause. Only briefly, as I attempted to dispel this emotion. Sarah didn’t notice and began to caress the other breast, and I pushed it into her hand in attempt to recapture the magic of seconds before.

However hard I tried, the feeling of shame gripped me. What was I doing? This wasn’t right.

My hips stopped, and I gently untangled my fingers from her hair. Sarah started to slow down, as the realisation dawned on her that I wasn’t as into it as I had been, and lifted her face to look into my own.

Concerned eyes, darkened by the night, searched my face for some rhyme or reason. I felt my heart crack just a little when she asked, so softly, so beautifully, so tenderly, ‘Lou … are you okay?’ A weak smile trickled onto my face, and I nodded. ‘Am I going to fast … I know … well … I think I know … this … erm … is your first time, right?’

I nodded again, and found difficulty looking into her eyes, which I believed had the power to read my mind … don’t ask me why. ‘God … Lou … I’m sorry … so sorry.’

With that, she lifted herself up from over me and plonked down back into the driver’s seat. She stared straight ahead of her into the blackness. I lay there, sprawled backwards on the seat, my legs spread, my breasts exposed. The cool air whipped around the exposed nipple, causing the wetness to feel like ice, yet dry it off at the same time.

Slowly I sat forward, fumbled at the base of the seat to bring me back to sitting position, before popping my breast back into my bra, and, with unsteady fingers, began to button up my shirt.

It was totally quiet. I honestly believed I could hear the buttons pushing back through the material.

Sarah’s fingers were gripping the steering wheel, and I could see her head dropping forward, her eyes scrunching up … her lips twisting into a grimace.

What if she didn’t want to see me again? What if she thought I was frigid?

Panic shot through me. I know, I know … one minute I was so turned on I didn’t think anything could stop me, the next shame, then fear. In hindsight, it was probably the most natural feeling in the world for the newly discovered lesbian … well … not even just for lesbians …

‘I’m sorry, Sarah … ‘

I didn’t get the rest out.

Sarah’s head shot around so quickly, I had to refocus my eyes. ‘No! I’m sorry Lou … God … I really like you … really like you. I’ve blown it haven’t I?’

Huh?

‘Huh?’

Her hand came out and gripped my own, her face panicked. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t know what got into me … God … I went too fast didn’t I?’ I tried to say she hadn’t, that I wanted what she had wanted, but she didn’t give me chance. ‘I promise, I won’t do it again … you mean too much to me … too much. Can I have another chance? Please?’ I could hear the pleading tone in her voice.

To say I was startled would be an understatement. To say I was touched would be redundant. So, I did what any right minded girl in my position would do.

I leaned over and kissed her.

Hard.

                        ***************************************************************

An hour later saw me at home, dishevelled and smiling like a Cheshire cat. I didn’t even notice that my shirt was buttoned up completely wrong, and only got an inkling when I saw my Mum look down at my now ruffled top.

Good job it hadn’t been Jo … as she wouldn’t have been as forgiving. The ultimate twenty questions would have been well underway less than thirty seconds of me closing the front door. Thankfully, she was staying over at ‘a friend’s house’, or as I knew it … her boyfriend’s. But my parents, bless them, were truly ignorant of their children’s nocturnal meanderings.

After making them both a cup of tea (with mutterings of ‘personal slave’), I feigned tiredness, trundled upstairs, performed my ablutions, and slipped under the covers.

Images of what had transpired between Sarah and I danced about my head. We hadn’t progressed past the kissing and breast fondling stage, but boy … we were both panting before Sarah put the brakes on things.

I just wished she had told my libido that it wasn’t getting anything else. My groin was throbbing with unrequited need and I knew sleep would be a long time coming.

Especially if I didn’t find some kind of release.

I lay there in the darkness thinking of Sarah’s kisses, her smile, her lips, her mouth, her tongue … on my breast, and I felt a surge of desire scoot southwards. A thin line of sweat formed on my top lip, and I licked it off enjoying the saltiness that greeted me, enjoying the sensation.

God. I was dying here. I was being consumed by a need that far out weighed anything I had ever experienced before. Unconsciously, my backside pressed into the mattress, pushing my wetness into something firmer. It felt good … not exactly enough, but a start.

Inquisitive fingers slipped underneath my t-shirt and grazed the underside of my breast. Now … that felt good … but still not enough.

A little more boldly, I ventured to the centre, only to be stopped by a very aroused and taut nipple standing waiting for some company. With the tips of my nails, I flicked it from side to side, whilst quickly holding the gasp within my mouth. My eyes fluttered closed. This felt good … really good.

Using my index finger and thumb, I casually rolled the nipple around, causing a fluttering to concentrate in the area, causing a pooling to congregate between my legs. Hips had decided to begin a dance, as I pressed and released my hips from, and into, the mattress. I crossed my legs and glorified in the contact as I squeezed the limbs together.

Obviously, still not enough.

I needed more. Definitely … something more.

Using my free hand, I brushed the outside of my shorts, above the throbbing, and stifled a groan. Before I knew it, my hand was inside, fingers combing through the soft downy hair before venturing lower.

Much lower.

A solitary finger dipped between the folds and was greeted by a wetness.

And it felt wonderful.

I pushed down even further, and pulled the lonely digit back up to nestle in the hairs again, sighing at the same time.

A second finger joined the first, and they both slipped, effortlessly, between the folds, straddling my clit, just adding enough pressure to make the tingles turn into to sparks of light.

And back up.

And down …

And up …

The moisture was becoming thicker and more needy … or was it me becoming more needy?

I had set a rhythm up …slow pushes … slow pulls … slow pushes … slow pulls. But this was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up. The hand fingering my nipple was increasing the tempo, increasing the pressure, so therefore … harder pushes … harder pulls … quicker pushes … quicker pulls … hard quick pushes … hard, almost grasping, pulls. Hips joined in, aiding the pace, the mattress was a good battleground for the fight in my hand … my increasingly wet hand … the hand that was becoming progressively more frantic with this growing desire within me … this raging desire that threatened to knock me unconscious …

But … I was loving it … loving the friction this hand, this mattress, these fingers could inflict on my unspeakable need … my growing delirium.

Nipples were forgotten as I grasped the whole breast in my hand, and squeezed and rubbed. The hand down my shorts was increasing the pace and I was panting unrestrainedly. I was clenching my legs around my hand … falling deeper and deeper into this sensation.

In my state, I imagined blue eyes in front of me … like they were part of this experience. The image only made me pump harder with both hands … my breast was loving the attention, but not as much as my wetness. God … it was loving it … I was loving it … loving being loved …

I was staring straight ahead, enraptured and captured by the blue gaze … the crooked smile … the twinkling blue gaze … twinkling … twinkling … twinkling …

‘Fu …uh …uh … uh …ck!’ It came out as a hiss, as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me shaking … leaving me wanting … leaving me craving those blue, twinkling eyes.

The eyes of Ashley Richards.

Not Sarah’s blue eyes … as it should have been … but Ash’s.

I turned onto my side feeling an emptiness fold over me like a blanket. I should have been ecstatic. But I wasn’t, obviously. I should have felt the droplets of sleep envelop me. But I knew sleep would be a long time coming. I should have been content with what I had with Sarah. But I wasn’t.

She wasn’t enough for me, although I wished she was. Because the person who could fill this ache didn’t think of me that way. And it was something I had to live with.

Ashley Richards.

Now … she would be enough …

                        *************************************************************

Chapter Thirteen

Tuesday night eventually crawled around and stood languidly at my door, saying in an off hand manner ‘Whatever.’ I must have lost weight, as my appetite plummeted and every thing I put in my mouth tasted, and had the texture of, cardboard.

Sarah had called just before I had left and asked if she could see me that night. I didn’t even feel bad when I told her I had made other arrangements, but when I heard the disappointed ‘Oh … right’ and then the silence, I suggested Friday. I could hear her smile down the phone. Jo had been watching from the doorway, feigning reading the back of the newspaper, but I knew by her stance she was ear wigging.

As I placed the receiver back down, her eyes popped over the top of the page and I could see a question forming. But then … nothing.

It was just that brief look that put me on my guard. I felt exposed all of a sudden, well … all of the time, and believed everyone could see what I was up to … how different I was to everyone else. Sadness washed over me so quickly, only to disperse like a sprinkling of water on a summer’s day. The urge to tell her rose to the surface, and I had to physically reign it in.

I loved my sister … still do … but I didn’t know how to tell her I wasn’t who she thought I was. Deep down I thought she would be fine, and help me make the right decision. But there was still an area of doubt, which played with my sensibilities. What if she thought I was a freak? What if she disowned me … told me I was an abomination? I couldn’t bear to think of her thinking of me that way … You could say I always tried to be what she wanted me to be … whatever that is.

For two days, I had been a bag of nerves. Don’t ask me why … I couldn’t tell you … well apart from the fact I was infatuated with one tall, dark haired beauty who still thought of me as her six year old friend. And apart from the fact I was suppose to be involved with another woman … a woman … Jesus … a woman.

I digress.

I met Ash at Granada Bowling in Belle Vue. Quite out of the way, but definitely worth the trek on the 317 bus with all the people who were going into Manchester for the evening. I did feel a little out of place, sitting on the top deck with all the smokers, watching the world go by. But I didn’t care … I was going to see Ash. And that made me smile like an idiot out of the window.

I had always … and I mean ALWAYS … been shite at bowling. I was definitely ‘Miss Gutter Ball 1984’. Every well meant lob with the excruciatingly heavy ball (with the sticky holes), ended up rolling complacently down the side and into the gutter. I did manage to scrape a 36 in the first game, which I was quite proud of. I ignored all the well-laid advice Ash told me … I think it was more out of embarrassment than thinking I knew better.

Eventually I caved. Ash, my saviour, took it upon herself to teach me how to play. Her first move was to change the weight of the ball I had been brandishing about from a 14 to a 10.

Secondly … and this is the point I liked the most … she stood behind me, manoeuvring me into position of the arrows. The feeling of her standing so close behind me: her body pressing into my back and side; the smell of her filling my nostrils like an enchantment.

Whatever she said, I can’t tell you. Whatever she did is a blur. All I could concentrate on was the feeling of her hands moving over my arms and back … even the view of the top of her head bewitched me as she knelt down in front of me moving my feet into position. I could see her lips moving but I couldn’t hear a word. I was deaf … and mute by all accounts. I just nodded like the proverbial village idiot and grinned vacantly.

Ash was a good player … well in comparison to me anyone was. But to put it into some kind of real perspective, she scored 186 in her first game. And I think I put her off … trying to hold in all that laughter … yeah … sounds about right.

Obviously, with all my free tuition, my game escalated to a grand score of 92. To Ash’s 179 … I was getting better and she was going down, which I held great delight in ribbing her with. Mutterings of ‘I’ve gone up fifty six and you’ve lost seven points.’

She just smiled, that crooked smile, but the rest of her face said ‘You wait lady.’

But I was flying by this stage. Not because of the score … not by any stretch of the imagination. It was just being with her … her and me … Lou and Ash … Ash and Lou. My heart was singing, I was floating, and my blood was bubbling like a wild stream rushing down the side of a mountain.

Yep. That corny. But that’s how I felt … corny. My blood was doing Julie Andrews impressions and I was loving it.

Until the third set.

I should have quit whilst I was ahead.

I should have plucked off those freaky stripy shoes, jumped on the 317, and gone home whilst I still had any credibility left.

But no.

I stayed and took it like a man … woman … teenager … whatever.

Ash was relentless in her heckling. I thought she was trying to help me, not make me fuck up more than usual. Just as I was about to throw the ball down the alley, she would cough, sneeze, mutter something obscene (which I quite liked) … generally, she was out to teach me a lesson.

After the fourth consecutive gutter ball, Ash jumped out of her seat, raced over to me, and as I was nearly fully around, threw her arms around me to deliver a bone-crushing hug. My feet lifted off the floor as she swept me in a circle, the room spinning around me but not because of the movement.

It was the kiss on the cheek that was my undoing. A full smacker right on the left cheek, the onomatopoeic slap on the skin informed me it was slightly wet, as I had no sensation left in any part of my body … apart from the places where her body encountered mine. Skin pulsed and grew hot under hers and once again, I was totally lost in her …

I didn’t even realise I had done it. I felt such a fool … but I couldn’t help pushing my face into the nape of her neck and inhaling her scent. She smelled perfect … perfect … perfect … and I was lost into her for those brief seconds before she lowered me back onto the ground. I missed the closeness of her, but she didn’t let me go straight away. I looked up into her face and a small splodge of air slipped out from my mouth.

Her eyes were slightly hooded, and the cock sure smile she had sported had vanished, only to be replaced by a look of confusion … of indecision. Lips slightly parted in wonder: the fullness mesmerising. I wanted to stretch up onto my toes and just … brush my lips across them.

Just the once … and I would be contented.

Just the once.

But no. Reason gripped me before I made an even bigger fool of myself than I already had, and I pulled out of the encirclement of her arms. I watched them fall limply to her sides and she looked a little dishevelled … but beautiful.

Obviously.

‘Your turn.’ Was that my voice? Small and distant? I felt like a ventriloquist’s dummy, the mouth moving but the noise coming from another person.

She nodded, but stood there for a few more seconds, before she walked past me, picked up her ball and threw it down the lane without even focusing.

And she still knocked down nine pins.

And I lost … miserably … 49 to her 198.

I think it was all the touching … or the thoughts of touching that made me lose the plot big time.

It was worth it though.

                        **********************************************************

After the games, we sat in the café area sipping coke in polystyrene cups with straws. What is about drinking coke through a straw that makes you feel like a kid? Or maybe it was sitting with Ash that made me feel like a kid … who knows?

We chatted as if nothing had happened, although my mind kept on drifting to the feel of her arms, hands, body … the smell of her … the longing to taste her however briefly.

What was wrong with me? Couldn’t I just have her friendship?

The internal struggle was trying to choke me … I wasn’t concentrating on what she was saying, and before I knew it I was agreeing to bowling lessons every Tuesday. Not that I minded seeing her every Tuesday, but … bowling? My arm was throbbing as it was … Jesus … I’d look like a one armed weight lifter before I even hit the hundred mark.

But I would see Ash … definitely see Ash … once a week. I could feel the smile sneak up from a dark place inside me and trickle onto my face.

Now … that was definitely worth the pain.

                        ************************************************************

Stephen picked us up from outside the Bowling Alley. It saved me clambering on the bus by myself, as I didn’t really fancy travelling back on my own … buses at night were not the safest of places for a young girl to be. Plus the fact Ash would have been getting on a different one.

And … this way, I got to spend just that extra bit of time with her.

Thankfully, Tracy was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t deal with her glaring looks … and no one mentioned her absence, which gave the indication she was still in the bad books.

I felt like gloating.

Ash insisted sitting in the back with me, even though the passenger seat was empty.

Now that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The smile I sported could definitely be defined as a gloating one.

                        **************************************************************

Chapter Fourteen

The next few weeks were filled with a seesaw of emotions. On one end of the seesaw was my growing relationship with Sarah, whilst at the other my definite attraction for Ash.

Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t just see Ash when we went bowling. No. We saw each other quite often at college, had lunch or a coffee, and we did see each other at least one evening over the weekend.

Well … most weekends anyway.

Every time I saw her, this innate need to be more than what we were would fill me up, and I found it more and more difficult not blurting out how I felt. This lead to a rising sexual frustration that could rival any teenage boy’s … that I can guarantee.

Evidently, these hormones, these wild wonderings of my sexually befuddled brain were tantamount to agony, and the only cure I had was Sarah.

Poor Sarah. Poor sweet Sarah. I really liked her … honestly I did. But she wasn’t … well she wasn’t … Ash.

But being filled with these raging hormones, hormones that needed avenging, what else could I do but to try and get some satisfaction from the only person I could. And that wasn’t me … as I had nearly grown hard patches on my right hand … my left hand … my fingers … you get the drift?

So Sarah it was.

And …

I did feel bad …

… but I also felt incredibly horny too.

Evenings with Sarah had developed into something more carnal that I had anticipated from the first night at the cinema. I was still wary about who knew … and nobody did … but I was finding the deceit difficult to conceal, especially when I would flush beetroot every time somebody mentioned either of their names, even though I wasn’t involved with Ash.

We hadn’t had sex as yet, but it wasn’t for the want of me trying. Our explorations had increased in pace, but not below the waistband. The upper halves of our bodies were explored thoroughly, with hands fingers, mouth, lips and teeth. But the achingly wet part went without.

Sarah was cautious … a little too cautious. I think she was still wary about frightening me off, although me trying to shove my hands down her pants should have convinced her otherwise, not to mention my begging her to let me touch her … for her to touch me.

It was just before Christmas that I got my wish.

After a very sexually frustrating afternoon drooling over my unobtainable friend, I met Sarah nearly panting. She had to physically drag my hands from her groin at one point.

As I sat there breathless, willing my throbbing need to behave, she asked me a very simple, but extremely promising question.

‘What are your plans for Saturday night?’

Not much of a question, I hear you say. But I haven’t finished yet …

‘Would you like to stay over at my house … my parents are away for the weekend?’

Now … I imagine you are thinking I whooped for joy, or jumped her bones, or screamed out ‘Yes!’ into the darkness.

But no. I sat there and stared at her … mute … stupid … silent … stunned.

It was here. At last. My chance to relieve this tension, and I couldn’t respond. Inside my head I was screaming ‘Tell her you idiot … say yes!’. But on the outside I looked like a statue, completely rigid: emotionless.

Only with Sarah’s movement … her nervous movement … the slight shaking of her hand … did I break free from the spell that had befallen me. My eyes moved at first, as I watched her gingerly take the steering wheel in both her hands and slowly increase the pressure. She was facing forward by this point, her eyes digesting the night sky, trying to appear nonchalant, but coming out pensive instead.

I lifted my hand slowly to her cheek and brushed my fingers down her face, past her jaw, down her throat, until they rested on her collarbone.

Blue eyes dipped to take in her hands before turning their gaze into my own waiting green eyes. It was not until I knew I had her full attention, did I utter those three little words … softly and tinged with promise.

‘I’d love to.’

The smile that rained over her face could have melted the ice caps in the Antarctic.

We had a date.

And my aching need couldn’t wait, although my heart wasn’t too sure.

                        **************************************************************

Saturday night came around.

Eventually.

My shattered nerves said ‘About bloody time,’ as seven thirty arrived, and so did Sarah. And I had only left her two hours before.

My parents didn’t say a word about me staying out all night at ‘a friend’s house’. I hadn’t told Jo, as I had only seen her briefly. I had walked in from work, and she had been on her way out to meet her boyfriend at the ice skating rink in Altrincham.

Not that I could have told her anyway … I couldn’t lie to her about what I was up to … and why I had to stay over at Sarah’s house when there was a perfectly good bus service running from her house to mine. And she may have got her boyfriend to pick me up, as they would have to pass Sarah’s to get home.

I’m procrastinating aren’t I?

Okay … I’ll skip the journey … the offer of a drink … the desperate need to use the bathroom every two minutes … the polite conversation … every thing up until the part I know you want to hear.

The consummation.

The deed.

The act.

The bountiful display of the beast with two backs.

The event that changed my view on life, love and sex. The event I believed kicked out the last clinging vestiges of heterosexuality.

The event that spliced open the bare longings of a sixteen year old girl in lust.

I knew it was on the cards … I knew tonight was going to be the night … I knew I was shitting my pants …

But I still didn’t expect it, if you know what I mean.

We were sat on the sofa listening to an album Sarah’s Dad had brought back from his trip to the States. Bruce Springsteen’s gravelly voice had just emitted ‘Hey little girl is your Daddy home’ when she made her move. Her hand came out and caressed my thigh, and I nearly dropped the glass of wine I was nursing.

 

‘I got a bad desire’

 

Tell me about it Bruce.

Sarah leaned over and gently released the glass from my death-like grip, placing it on the table at the side of the couch.

                        ‘I can take you higher’

Her face came closer to mine and her lips brushed against my mouth in a butterfly kiss.

I tasted her lipstick, and leaned forward to capture those lips once again. A little harder this time. I could feel her pushing back into me, and slipped backwards onto the sofa, taking Sarah with me.

The kissing was getting more heated now, and my heart was fit to saw through my chest and scream into the night.

                        ‘At night I wake with the sheets soaking wet’

Like my underwear. Definitely soaked.

My hands were on a mission, and were definitely going under cover.

And as her tongue slipped into my mouth, the last thing I heard was …

                        ‘Only you can cool my desire

                        I’m on fire.’

 

Oh yeah … bring it on.

The kissing was passionate to say the least. All my inhibitions had packed their bags and headed for the airport. I was on a one was trip to Satisfactionville, and Sarah was the driver. And God … could she drive …

Drive me to the brink of want … of need … of desire. Drive me to the insanity of a yearning to be touched that belied rhyme or reason.

God … she was hot … and I was dying … she was so fucking hot … and I was squirming underneath her trying to purchase my hands onto her bare flesh. Her fingers fumbled on the buttons to my shirt, nervous fingers struggling with the smallness of the shiny adornments, trying to force them out of their slits, her lips digging deeper into my own.

Cool fingers slipped underneath my cotton shirt, and tentatively stroked below my nipple, which was already ready and waiting for contact. Her thumb pushed the material down and rubbed the nipple flesh on flesh. But like the impatient child, I pushed my breast into her hand, wanting her to take it all … move things along.

My hips were pushing upwards, craving to introduce one wet need into something firmer. And then back down. And back up … down and … up … constant … rhy … thm … up …staying … and … pull … ling back.

The contact of her thigh felt wonderful. The feel of her hand on my breast, divine. The pressure of her mouth on mine … bliss.

But this wasn’t enough. I needed more … God … how I needed more. I gripped her backside, such a firm, rounded backside, and pulled her into me.

Still not enough.

One of my hands snaked underneath the base of her bra and cupped her soft breast, and squeezed. Tracing my thumb across the erect bud, almost expert in this field by now.

Her moan filled my mouth, so I squeezed harder. Another groan … well more like a moan. I broke my lips from hers and rained tiny kisses over her chin and throat. She raised her head to allow me access, which I took gladly, sucking and teasing the skin between my lips, silently begging for her to strip me naked and ravish me.

‘Jesus … Lou … god …’ I kept on kissing her throat, ‘I need … we need …’ I know … tell me about it. ‘We need to go upstairs …’

My lips pulled away, realisation dawned on me.

I was just about to go upstairs and have sex. With a woman. First time … with a woman … or anyone for that matter.

I didn’t know what to do.

Don’t get me wrong … I knew what I wanted to do … just didn’t know how to do it.

My face must have said it all. I actually felt my jaw drop and my face slacken. Sarah pulled herself away from me and ducked her head down to capture my gaze. ‘What’s up, love?’

I couldn’t answer her, but I did close my mouth … nothing more of a sexual turnoff than a gobsmacked expression.

Sarah looked at me intently, concern radiating from her. She thought I was backing out … that I didn’t want this. ‘It’s not you …’ more concerned looks, and I hastily added ‘I just … well … I …’

Confusion scrambled onto her features, suddenly to be replaced by a growing understanding, then a smile … a reassuring smile that warmed my belly and made me feel a little more in control. ‘Don’t worry, honey … you can leave that up to me.’ I didn’t know if I liked the sound of that, and my expression said so. ‘I mean … well … I’ll show you … guide you … and it’s a case of doing what feels right …’

That was better. I planted a soft kiss on her lips, and nodded my head in acceptance of what was to come.

Without a word, she took my hand and kissed the palm as I curled my fingers around her chin.

And from a distance, I could hear my voice saying ‘Let’s go.’

                        **************************************************************

Nervous? You bet. Scared? Granted. Excited? Well … I think that’s a given.

Sarah had led me upstairs to her room, her thumb brushing the back of my hand reassuringly, taking shy looks over her shoulder as we neared the place where I would soon lose my innocence, and hopefully this ache in my gut, chest and groin.

Her room was like any other student’s room, but I could tell she had tidied it up for my visit, as the smell of polish still clung in the air. The lamp next to her double bed was on already, and the corner at the top of the duvet was folded back in invite.

I heard the door close behind me and then felt Sarah come up behind. I closed my eyes and waited for her touch.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Her hands slipped onto my shoulders, and she gently caressed them. My eyes fluttered … it felt good. Her body came closer to mine and I could feel her breath hitting my neck in short gasps. Then her lips … tentative in their quest … hovered over the nape of my neck, making all the short hairs at its base quiver.

I could feel her push herself into me, her breasts against my back, her hands slipping down my arms in one long stroke only to snake around my waist and up the front, to cup my breasts.

Nipples strained … I pushed into her hands … the butterflies in my stomach transforming into something more carnal … more wanting … more … just more.

Before I knew what was happening I was naked. Sarah had slipped my clothes from my body … and I allowed her, completely unresisting under her hands … her lips … her mouth … her tongue. My knees were beginning to weaken, all my energy concentrating on the building up of sensation that was crawling over me like a rash … a very … nice … rash … a very … demanding rash … an erotic rash … a consuming rash …

I turned in her arms and cupped her face to stare in her eyes. I don’t know what I was looking for, but for a split second I felt the rush of disappointment, as what I had been searching for wasn’t there. But … I carried on anyway. She turned her face and planted a delicate kiss onto my palm, reassuring me with her eyes.

Her lips were moist and inviting. Her flesh was pliant and warm. My hands were nervous … shaking … trying to fulfil a need that I knew would kill me or drive me mad.

I undressed her, marvelling at her body; the body of a woman; the body of the woman I was going to sleep with.

Well … not exactly sleep.

The bed was soft yet firm as I sat on the edge. Sarah sat opposite. Touching. Stroking. Caressing the fears and anxieties from me.

Desire was building and forcing the fear below … and down … and away. Mouths sought mouths … tongues sought tongues. Nipples were licked and nipped. Stomachs were treated to tentative fingers searching southwards. Southwards to the pooling wetness of want that had collected around my now dominant need.

Fingers parted lips and pushed down to the core of this moisture … this rising flood … this pit of delight. And like a good student I followed her actions, to be greeted with a short gasp from her parted mouth, the air rushing against my face.

I could feel myself falling backwards … in slow motion, the movements sure and steady … a complete juxtaposition to how I was feeling.

A hot body covered my own … smooth and supple and ripe for the taking. Skin brushed against skin, the sweat mingling in a growing sense of neediness … the rhythm becoming erratic.

I pushed my thigh between Sarah’s leg and she clamped her own around it, capturing our foraging fingers inside, and her hips picked up the tempo, her breathing hoarse and fast … my breathing keeping pace … my hand rubbing her clit with growing confidence. I was mimicking her actions … nothing was truly me … nothing was what I had thought of myself … just a copy.

But that didn’t stop it from feeling good … from feeling incredibly good.

I looked into her face … grimacing with promise … her teeth biting her bottom lip as she thrust herself into me … onto me … her hand becoming more confused. I knew she was close.

‘Fuck me, Lou … for god’s sake fuck me!’ But … I thought I was? I was doing everything she was doing … ‘Fingers … God … fingers … inside … now …’

Ah!

I lowered my hand to her entrance, and waited outside, revelling in the feel of her juices dripping down before pushing myself into her … just one finger … slipping effortlessly … ‘More …’ Just the one word, which was gasped out into my neck, her own hand raging with tension on my craving desire.

A second followed, then a third. I could feel her pushing down and swallowing them inside, the tightening of her walls crushing my fingers. A low keening moan broke free from her. I knew she was cumming … and I forgot my own want and watched her … watched her … mesmerised by the agonisingly rapturous expression distorting her beautiful face as she came … falling forwards … her mouth open on my throat … the wail of her orgasm bouncing off my skin just before she sucked on my flesh.

Then I felt her smile, her lips twisting in the post-coital smile of the satisfied. Teeth nipped my neck and travelled upwards, along my jaw line, until they reached my mouth, where they covered my lips in a wet, contented kiss … soft and consuming.

Her hand came up to my breast and teased around the edge, slowly, until expert fingers rolled the nipple around, gently pinching at the same time. A spark of adrenaline rushed from all parts of my body to dissect itself and charge to my breast or a more southerly region. Both were ready. Both were willing. Both were stoking a fire of expectation.

‘Your turn, love.’

With that, Sarah began her descent … kissing and nibbling all my exposed skin along the way, building and prepping the fire burning below decks; the once smouldering heat was turning into something a little out of control.

And it felt good. So fucking good.

Fingers reached their destination before her head, and began to slip through the waiting wetness before moving to one side as her mouth lowered and … a tongue … licked …

‘Jesus…’ The sensation was mind blowing. Tender yet perfectly pressured along my clit. Just the tip of her tongue slipping with practiced ease along the top. My backside pushed upwards, forcing my want into her face. She just pulled back and kept the same amount of pressure.

I felt a flicker at my wetness, shortly followed by a moan as she dipped at my opening. I wanted to spear myself onto that thick, wet muscle, allow her to sample the juices I had conjured just for her. The flat of her tongue rested at the base until it began its ascent, coating my clit in an unbearably slow movement that was … just … right.

And then she went down again … then up … then down … up and down … slow and sure … then a little quicker … and harder … and my hips joined in the dance of the mouth and the tongue … making a threesome of rhythm … a glorious rhythm … a tempo leading to the upcoming crescendo.

Her hands grasped my hips and pulled myself into her face, making the contact exquisite. Lips covered my clit and sucked and I could feel the orgasm raging … racing … ravaging through me like a stampede … unstoppable … dangerous … I watched her head bobbing up and down; saw the whitening of her knuckles as she gripped my pelvis stopping me from meting out my desire in panicked thrusts.

Then it all changed. The image I mean. The dark brown hair seemed black in the light; the rounded cheekbones looked chiselled … the eyelashes darker … the arms more toned and longer. She flicked her eyes to meet mine and I saw them lighter … I saw them twinkle …

FFFFFuuuuuuuccccccccckkkkk yeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss!’ I was over, my hands tangled in her hair, fingers twisting the thick locks into a frenzy of knots … hips grinding into her with a need to satisfy. My eyes were tightly closed, and they were begging my brain to keep the image of those cheekbones … those eyelashes … those eyes, as I rode out my cumming on someone else’s face.

God I felt alive. I felt every nerve ending stand up and scream ‘YES!’ as I dragged out all the sputtering sparks that had helped me to reach my goal. Blood pumped to the key spot and collected, swelling the bud that was safely captured in Sarah’s mouth. My breathing was erratic and my chest heaved in labour.

But my heart was empty. I felt as if I had sold myself for a quick fix … sold out my heart for an orgasm. I felt shallow.

Sarah lifted her eyes to meet mine and a stupid grin covered her face. And my heart ached with guilt. I had used her. Used her. Used her to forget my attraction to Ash.

I felt awful.

My smile was weak to say the least, but I don’t think Sarah noticed … just thought I was weak from my climax. She clambered up my body, placing soft, wet kisses along the way, until she reached my mouth. I could taste myself on her lips … musky … a little sweet … different.

And evidence of what I had just done.

But it didn’t stop me licking around her lips trying to capture the taste of my traitorous body.

I think Sarah wanted to go at it again, by all the soft stroking, kissing and nuzzling she was doing, but I just couldn’t … not then. My kisses became more chaste, intermittent with shy smiles and tentative strokes, until she finally accepted there was going to be no round two … well … not right away.

She slipped to my side and pulled me over to her, my face pressing into the dip of her throat. It felt comfortable lying on my side being held by her. Not fantastic, or that it filled me with peace or completeness … just comfortable.

Deft fingers stroked my arm, calming me for some reason, lulling my eyes closed … chasing away the demons of doubt … allowing me to doze off …

And that’s how the evening ended. Me in Sarah’s arms, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted.

Although, the exhaustion came through the depletion of emotions that had ravaged my body, the guilt, the yearning … the longing for something else … something different … someone … different.

And the knowledge that that someone could never be mine.

                        **************************************************************

Dawn found me lying on my side with my back to Sarah. She was spooned up behind me with her arm draped over my stomach, and I could feel her breath on my skin. It was pleasant, but not the all-consuming emotion I had been expecting after making love for the first time.

I liked Sarah. A lot. She had introduced me to the part of me that was so well hidden I would have needed an archaeologist to uncover it. I liked kissing her, touching her … making love to her. I liked the sensations her mouth, tongue and fingers brought out in me. I enjoyed the orgasm … the first one I’d experienced with someone else other than myself.

But I didn’t like the fact it wasn’t Ash.

And I didn’t like the fact I had used Sarah to fulfil the constant craving I had for my friend.

What to do?

Did I tell Sarah? Tell Ash? Go without sex? Rely solely on my right hand for comfort and contentment?

Or did I play the game … accept what I had with Sarah and just carry on.

Thoughts whirled around my head, thoughts of Ash versus Sarah … and although I really wanted Ash to win, reason made me go with Sarah. The old adage ‘Better the Devil you know’ was the only thought I could muster.

A sigh escaped, and I felt Sarah’s arm tighten around me.

Here goes nothing … or everything, depending on how you looked at it.

I turned in her embrace and began to kiss her throat. A contented whimper broke loose from her and I could feel her fingers trailing themselves along my spine, down to my arse to cover the flesh with goosebumps.

The fire began once again … at first a flicker … then a flame … and then control was given over as I fell into her and her desire for me. Hungry kisses, touches and whispered words spewed forth into this fire.

I just had to be careful I didn’t get burned … or burn Sarah along the way.

                        **************************************************************

part 5

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