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Young and Horny: 10 Gay Erotic Short Stories

Page 9

by Matthew Rettenmund


  ZiZi gestures to a large woman behind the counter in a tight-fitting waitress uniform. I didn't notice her before.

  "I'm off. Claudia's here. Let's leave, 'kay?"

  We are in ZiZi's apartment. It is a lot like I'd imagine a lesbian's apartment. There is a poster of Catherine Deneuve that defies description, a stack of gay political magazines on the coffee table, and some free weights. She is embarrassed by the poster.

  "That's my roommate's," she blushes.

  "It's okay," I am saying. "I've always loved 'The Hunger.'"

  "Me, too, but..." she trails off. "But it's so, so...expected. Like walking into your little friend's apartment and finding a Pamela Anderson poster."

  "Let's not talk about my friend," I warn, still stiffly standing near the door. "And he's actually my boyfriend."

  I am now getting queasy. If I run, I will look a fool. If I stay, I may be in for more than I've bargained for. Can I really kiss a woman? Touch her breasts? Can I put my tongue in a woman? These questions have me enflamed, superhot. I feel like I'm wearing a raincoat in a room where spaghetti is being boiled, a sensation I've actually experienced.

  "Look," I say, showing my hands, no-tricks-up-my-sleeve. "I came here with you because I find you very attractive, and I've always wondered..."

  Her brows only flicker, but their cosmetic arch makes it look like she's shocked. "Oh, my God!" she exclaims softly. "A virgin?" She sucks in her cheeks, and comes over to me, hands on hips. "No, it's okay," she whispers. "I was wondering about you, too."

  And then I am kissing her, and it is not like kissing myself, it is like kissing another woman, and I'm tasting her lipstick and feeling her soft tongue tickling my lower lip, and then I am holding her narrow waist to get better leverage so I can fill her mouth with my tongue. It feels similar to kissing Tony, except I am the one doing the kissing, and her lips are soft and pliant, like my sister's when we kiss hello. We are, in a way, kissing hello.

  I feel like I'm holding a firecracker inside me, like it's slowing burning itself up and that I will explode within seconds. But I don't want to stop feeling that, so I push the envelope. I raise my palm to cup one of her small breasst and she sighs through my lips as I find her hard nipple. I roll her nipple through my fingers, just her nipple, not her breast. I tug it lightly as I kiss her more deeply than I ever knew I could kiss.

  She is pulling my shirt up over my head, firmly feeling my shoulders and running her fingertips over my pale chest. She touches my nipples through my bra, working them until they are as hard as hers. When that is accomplished, she holds my breasts in her hands and carefully unhooks my bra. My breasts always feel vulnerable in the hands of a man, but now they feel powerful, like a soldier's stout chest when told to stand at attention. I thrust them out and she trails pink-stained kisses all over them, making loud smacking noises that turn me on. When her tiny lips encircle my left nipple, her teeth gently nibbling the tip, I begin talking.

  "So good," I murmur. Then, "Suck them."

  She runs her tongue over my sensitive buds until I am high-pitched panting, then buries her face in my breasts, rubbing her smooth cheeks against them, over them, around. We wind up on the sofa, her on top of me, my breasts in her attentive hands. "I just love your tits," she says earnestly, giggling, and there is a difference between that and saying, "I am a boob woman," which I am so very glad she didn't say.

  We strip her of her T-shirt.

  She holds my hands back over my head and straddles my bare leg at mid-thigh. I can feel her wet panties on my skin, and can see her breasts jutting toward mine. I discover that, with effort, I can arch my back to rub my breasts against hers, my spit-soaked tips like slick rubber against her areolas.

  She is grinding her pelvis into my thigh, the damp friction so close to my own aching twat. Twat. I am thinking dirty now, something I only do when I'm in a fuck-frenzy. I have to feel her touching me there soon, or I'll die.

  As if on cue, she places her hand on my crotch, manipulating my lips right through my panties.

  "Oh, God, yes!" I say, thrusting toward those nimble fingers. She is pulling my lips and applying pressure to my hole, pushing the tip of her pinky into me right through the fabric.

  "Play with me!" I bark. "Touch it!"

  She reaches inside my panties and deftly spears me with her fingers, spreading me pleasantly apart so that her thumb can manipulate my clit. I feel like a total slut right now, in a very good way. I spread my legs so far apart that my hips are sore from the strain. I want to feel her whole face in my pussy, eating my pussy.

  "I'm hungry for you," she says, sliding down to do the deed. I am in heaven now, because oral sex is my favorite thing on earth.

  Then I am blacking out. I think I'm starting to pass out, and my vagina feels so sore and then so itchy and then I feel like something has popped inside my head, a warm light, a bag of seeds spilling over my pelvis.

  I have just orgasmed! Just at the the thought of ZiZi eating me out. I can't believe it, and in my shock I have almost missed the fact that her tongue is now teasing my lips, skin on skin.

  "Eat me..." I moan, my hand on her head. Seeing my white fingers against her orange hair is arousing. I am thinking about her lips and mine, joined.

  She is lapping at me like a dog, but deftly avoiding the clit, getting me hot and bothered but keeping it under control. When at last she nudges my button with the tip of her tongue, I am thrusting against her face. I can here her cooing, "Mmmmm," but only barely, because I am moaning and begging her to keep going. She sucks my clit with horrifying precision, and I see stars. No, I see sunflowers. A Fruitopia commercial is being filmed behind my eyes, and my pussy feels like it's being used for what it was intended, for the first time since I've been alive.

  I cum again, almost crying with the pleasure of it.

  Before I'm recovered, she is standing next to me, pulling down her soaking panties and tossing them into the kitchen. What if her roomie returns and finds us vacuuming each other's rugs? I'm hoping she does. At this stage, I'm prepared for my first lesbian three-way on the same day as my first lesbian two-way.

  She puts her left foot on the couch just above my shoulder, flashing me her shaved pink pussy. I've never seen a hairless one before, except on a toddler, when I wasn't really interested in looking. It's fascinating, so clean and so pure. "Do me, now," she says, and squats so that she's just above my face.

  With no hesitation, I run my tongue up and down her hairless slit, savoring her musky smell and the tangy taste of her juice. It reminds me of those moments when I have tasted my own finger after plunging it inside myself, except this is much better. The folds of her vagina are much better, and much sweeter to my taste.

  "Oooh," she says softly, girlishly, "I like that. Lick-me-lick-me." I thrust my tongue inside her, deeper and deeper until I am tongue-fucking her ferociously. I place my thumb firmly on her clit and massage it in sync with my thrusting and I know she loves it because she is squeezing her own breasts and is resting the full weight of her body on my chest, too weak to stand. I rub my face in her pussy with abandon, wanting to eat her like she's never had it before, like neither of us has.

  Finally, the hottest thing: She sits on my chest, my feet behind my ears and leans back on her hands, forcing her twat apart and into my mouth. The position is so lustful I am at peak arousal again, and am uninhibited as I fold her apart and make tiny circles inside her with both of my index fingers, stretching the muscle to make it burn for her, just a little. I am thinking I would like to lick her asshole, too, but I am scared. Will she be shocked and knock my face away, like I'm some pervert? We can explore next time, I hope.

  It isn't necessary. She cums, screaming at the top of her lungs, and honeyjuice slides down my fingers to coat my palms. I've never imagined such a wet orgasm. I kiss her there one last time before going slack, allowing my neck to rest. We are both panting and have beads of sweat scurrying crookedly down our sides like baby spiders.

  She falls
back on me, lying on top of me so that I can still see her splayed sex, shining with stimulation. She starts to giggle and so do I, as if we are innocent girls who mistakenly think they have done something wayward...except we really, really have.

  "Oh, my God..." I whisper, between giggles.

  "Yeah," she says, gently rolling off me and shaking her head for comic effect.

  "I've never so much as kissed a girl before," I say.

  She cocks her head and smiles devilishly. "Well...now you have."

  I am such a total lezzie. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.

 

 

 


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