Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a matching bra and panty kind of girl,” Vivian says, running her nails along the silk of my underwear.

  “I’m not usually,” I admit, “but when you invited me over… I… I decided to wear the sexiest thing I own.”

  “Have you worn these for anyone before?” she asks, looking up at me, inquisitively.

  “No,” I confess. “Tags are in my trash can in my room.”

  Grinning wildly, she begins to remove my final article of clothing. Lying naked before her, I have no sense of insecurity, no sense of self-consciousness. I feel open and free, uninhibited and liberated.

  “Vivian?” I ask, directing her attention back to my face and eyes. “Can I… can I… see you?”

  She cocks her head, looks at me curiously. “I’m right here.”

  “I’m lying here naked… so naked, and I… I want… to see you,” I stammer, my eyes wide with hope and anticipation.

  “You just keep surprising me, Peaches,” she winks. I laugh. It’s been a while since she’s called me ‘Peaches.’ I didn’t realized how much I missed it.

  Standing up from the bed, Vivian whips her shirt off. She isn’t wearing a bra. My eyes must give me away. “Yeah, they’re pretty awesome. Aren’t they?” Vivian laughs.

  Awesome doesn’t quite do her breasts justice. I’ve always enjoyed women’s chests. Always. I know all women appreciate the size, shape, and different variations of breasts, but they have always mesmerized me. In gym classes, I would have to force myself to look away. I marvel at how beautiful and perfect they can be—and yet so different from my own.

  Vivian’s boobs are large, round, and high with a slight natural hang to them. They should be memorialized, made into copper, and plastered all over every Victoria’s Secret store on the planet. “Vivian, they’re incredible,” I announce, meaning every word of it. “I knew they were big, but I had no idea they were so… so… flawless.”

  “Marx family trait,” she says, doing a little dance for me.

  “Have you ever thought about—?”

  “Modeling bras? Bathing suits?” she finishes my sentence. “Who says I haven’t?” she asks, winking at me. Then, she slides her pants down and stands before me in a black and white thong. Her skin is pale and perfect, not a blemish to be seen.

  “On second thought… you should probably be modeling everything,” I swoon, taking in the beauty and elegance of her feminine body.

  Spinning once more for me, she then says, “Now where was I?” Crawling back onto the bed, she works her body between my legs and places her chin on my stomach. “Sarah, tonight has been wonderful.”

  “Are we done?” I ask, not able to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “Oh God, no!” Vivian barks out a laugh. “But in just a few minutes… neither of us are going to want to do much talking… so, I just… I just wanted to tell you that… you… are wonderful.”

  Tickling her shoulder with the tips of my nails, I smile and relish the feel of her bare skin on my fingers. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, because I’ve never felt so incredibly wonderful in my life. Vivian, I owe that all to you,” I reply, smiling at the beautiful woman before me.

  Vivian takes my hand in hers and kisses the back of my wrist. Sliding her tongue down my hand, she sucks my middle finger into her mouth. The intimacy of the seduction makes me gasp and catch my breath. There isn’t anything that she does to me that I don’t want more of—crave more of.

  My finger is damp with her saliva. She places it on my breast. “Get your nipples wet for me, Sarah. I want to watch,” she orders, her eyes blazing with lust.

  I trace the outline of my nipple, watching Vivian’s eyes go dark and lustful. I love that I can have this effect on her. It makes me want her and yearn for her even more. Her breathing increases, and she licks her upper lip. Smiling wickedly with her eyes on mine, she dips her tongue into my bellybutton. I squirm at the feeling it jolts through me.

  Working her way slowly down between my legs, Vivian covers every inch of my skin from my navel to my thighs with sweet, soft kisses, while massaging the flesh of my hips and thighs. Every part of my body is alight with desire, a deep carnal need that has never surfaced for me before. For the first time ever in my life, I can feel the damp, droplets of moisture trickle down my backside. I’m wet. I’m really soaking wet. And she hasn’t even touched me between my legs yet. This is my want and my yearning for her. This is all for Vivian.

  Moving my legs apart with her hands, she braces my thighs against the bed. “God, your scent drives me crazy… I can’t wait to taste you,” she moans, tracing the slit of my opening. Dipping a finger between my folds, Vivian pulls it out and licks the tip. “So good,” she marvels.

  Repeating the action, I’m on fire, wanting nothing more that for her to shove her fingers deep inside of me—pushing them in and out, over and over again. “Sarah, have you ever really tasted yourself?” she asks, sincerely.

  “Not really,” I admit as I shake my head, mortified at the notion. “Just a little on Kyle’s—” I stop, not wanting to talk about him now. He has no place here with us.

  Returning her finger to the center of my desire, she pushes it in further and draws it out slowly. With lust in her eyes, she places her finger at my lips, and says, “Lick it.” I do so. Her eyes blaze. A moan escapes me—not from my taste—but from the yearning in her eyes. I can do this to her.

  “Again,” I say, licking my lips, waiting for another taste.

  After the second time, she states, “I’m done sharing,” and kisses the top of my mound slowly, taking her time. I squirm beneath her, wanting her to work her way further down, but she resists me. “If you want something Sarah, then you’re going to have to ask… or tell me exactly what you want.”

  “Vivian… please,” I beg, gripping the bed and wiggling my hips.

  “Please what?” she says, kissing my inner thighs.

  “I need your mouth on me,” I plead.

  “On you where?” she asks, innocently.

  “Fuck Vivian,” I growl. “Please… please… eat my… eat my… pus—”

  Vivian doesn’t make me finish. Her mouth is on me—her tongue exploring every inch of my femininity. Holding me apart with her fingers, she dips her tongue deep inside, penetrating and licking her way back out, while her fingers follow the same movements. Vivian’s tongue circles around my clit and traces back over the tip. The pressure increases and then relinquishes back. She continues this dance.

  I’m driving straight to the edge, dangling over the precipice. Her movements are deliberate and masterful. She’s an expert of seduction and satisfaction.

  It’s intimate.

  It’s exquisite.

  It’s provocative.

  And real.

  This is real and what I’ve been waiting for my entire life. Feeling my insides fill with pressure, my body begins to beg for release. My actions are not my own. My desire and lust have taken over. I tangle my hands in Vivian’s hair and grind myself against her face. She moans at my forceful need for release. I lift my hips off the bed. She grabs my butt and lifts me closer to her mouth, devouring me and taking me as her own.

  “Vi… Vi… ahhh… Vi… Vivian,” I cry as I come undone, and my entire body convulses in satisfaction and release. I pant and try to catch my breath as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. Never—never in my life have I ever experienced something so euphoric and so right. So incredibly right.

  Kissing her way back up my body, she nips at my nipple. My body’s still heightened with intense electricity that every movement, very touch, takes my breath away. “Well?” she asks, snuggling into the crook of my arm.

  “Yeah, that… that… was… wow,” I say, not finding the words, shaking my head in disbelief at all I’ve been missing.

  “Pretty intense, huh?” she says, kissing me lightly on the lips.

  “Uhhh, that’s an understatement,” I exhale, blowing my hair out of
my face.

  Laughing, Vivian says, “Billy Joel was right, ‘Catholic girls start much too late.’ Wish you would’ve started sooner?”

  “Billy Joel knows what the fuck he’s talking about—and yes—so much sooner,” I agree, running my fingers through the back of her hair. “Should I? Ya know? Do you now?” I ask, not sure how this should go.

  “Give it some time,” Vivian says, lying on her back. “We’ve got all night. That’s the thing about lesbian sex, Babe. We can go all night—over and over again.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I admit, turning toward her, taking in the sight of her naked body. “Do you want me to wait, because honestly, I wouldn’t mind—?”

  “Sarah,” she says, facing me. “Whatever… or whenever you’re ready. I just don’t want to push you to do… or try… something you’re not ready for… or comfortable with. Going down on you… that… that… was pretty fucking awesome. I could die now happy.”

  “Well, shit, I want to die happy too, then,” I say, kissing her neck. Her skin is so soft, so smooth against my lips. She smells like vanilla with a hint of something more spicy and intoxicating—an expensive perfume with a splash of vanilla lotion or body wash. The combination is enchanting.

  I shift our bodies, so she’s beneath me. I stare down at her and am captivated by someone who is so perfect, so evolved, and so incredibly beautiful. Feeling nervous, my hand trembles as I cup the heft of her breast in my hand. Immediately, I can feel that familiar need between my legs once again. God, with each touch of this bewitching woman, I’m becoming more and more insatiable and needy.

  Pressing her breasts together, I take one of her nipples into my mouth, reveling in the feel of it hardening against my tongue. I suck it into my mouth, pulling it lightly with my teeth. “Sarah, harder, I like it harder,” Vivian orders. I do as she asks, nipping it harder and sucking with more force and purpose. “Oh God, yeah, that’s it… that’s how I like it.”

  Vivian pulls on my hair as I knead the flesh of her breasts and nibble against her nipples. I love watching her squirm beneath my touch. She’s so beautiful and strong. Everything about her is everything I’ve ever wanted. Just the sound of her voice makes my heart pound and mouth water. When she enters the room, all others dissolve away. She owns everywhere she’s at—all others cease to exist or matter. All that matters is Vivian.

  The need to taste her, watch her, and know her overtakes me. I kiss my way quickly down her stomach. Vivian wiggles beneath my kisses and fingertips, knowing exactly where I’m headed and what I’m about to do. Her moans and pants get louder with an anticipation of what is to come.

  Without needing to move her legs, Vivian throws her legs over my shoulders and pulls me close to her. “Eager much?” I ask, laughing.

  “So fucking eager—you have no idea,” she growls.

  “Ohhh, I think I do,” I say, running my knuckle long her bare triangular mound. “It’s so smooth,” I compliment.

  “Got waxed this week,” she replies, pulling me in closer with her knees.

  Taking my two fingers, I ease her apart—just as she did to me. Her scent nearly sends me back over the edge of desire. Darting out my tongue, I take my first taste of a woman—of Vivian. She’s delectable and suddenly, I’m ravenous for more of her. I dip my tongue further between her folds and am rewarded with a moan of ecstasy. Her moans and whimpers guide me through. When her breathing speeds up, I know that I’m pleasuring her. Not being that familiar with my own body, much less another woman’s body, I follow her lead and let her body language direct me.

  For the past few years, I’ve prided myself on my ability to perform exceptional oral sex on Jake and even more so on Kyle. I’ve always had sort of a control issue. Being in control of Jake and Kyle gave me a sense of power and superiority that I pretty much got off on in my own sick and twisted way. Taking them down my throat and knowing they were at the mercy of my every whim was a huge turn on for me.

  But this, with Vivian, is not the same. The taste of her, the scent of her, and the feel of her are just as stimulating for me as when she was between my legs giving me more pleasure than I knew was possible to experience. Being able to make this stunning, strong, and secure woman squirm and call my name was everything to me. Our pleasure was interlocked, linked in a way that I’ve never known before. I wanted her to feel for me what I felt for her—and I never wanted to stop.

  Feeling the pull of her hands in my hair, I increase the pressure of my tongue, working her over harder and faster, while her hips gyrate uncontrollably. I don’t allow her to push me away when I feel the first wave of her orgasm. I continue to manipulate and taste her, not pulling away. Slowing my movements, I want to get her comfortable again and at ease to work her back up. She said that we could go all night; I plan and want to do just that.

  Slowly, softly, delicately, I continue to tap away at her clit with smooth, small movements of my tongue. Vivian’s slick and ready, swaying her hips to the ministrations of my tongue and lips. “You sure are quick learner,” Vivian states, giggling breathily. “Swing, your leg over here.”

  Feeling uncomfortable, I pretend to have not heard her, continuing to touch and taste my way around her femininity. I’ve never wanted to “go all night” as Vivian calls it. But honestly, I may never want to stop pleasuring her and watching her as she releases and calls my name. It’s addicting and satiating.

  “Sarah, swing your leg over here… I want us to come together… and hold on to each other as we both climax,” she states openly. Nothing has ever sounded better or more inviting.

  WAKING UP, I lift my head and see that Vivian is staring down at me, twirling a strand of my hair around her pinky finger. “How long was I asleep?” I ask, looking around for a clock or a watch.

  “Just a little over an hour,” she says, smiling. “You look like a little angel when you sleep—so innocent and sweet.”

  “That’s me! Sweet, naïve, little Sarah,” I say, nipping on her earlobe. “What’re you thinking about?” I ask, noticing the pensive look on her face.

  “Nothing really,” she says. “I was just thinking how much I wish you could meet Gwen.”

  “Gwen?” I ask, sitting up, feeling a little awkward. “Who’s Gwen?”

  Smiling sadly, Vivian answers, “My older sister.”

  “Vivian! I didn’t know you had an older sister!” I scold. “How could you not tell me that? I know all about your brothers and your brother’s Skankasaurus.”

  “I don’t really like talking about her,” Vivian says, distantly.

  “What do you mean? You just brought her up. Are you guys fighting?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that, Sarah. My sister, Gwen, she…” Vivian’s voice cracks. “See, I don’t like talking about this.”

  “About what? What about your sister?” I pry, insensitively.

  “She died three years ago.”

  Sitting up and pulling a pillow against me, I say, “Oh my God, Vivian. I’m so sorry. What happened?” I grab her hand and trap it inside both of mine, protecting her from whatever it is she has to tell me.

  “I was a junior in high school. She was away at college. Georgia Tech.,” she says, exhaling heavily. “It was the Thursday night before Sibs’ Weekend. I was so excited to fly down and see her. I had a flight out on Friday at 5:45 a.m.”

  Vivian shakes her head and rolls her eyes in anger. I don’t say anything. I just squeeze her hand harder, letting her know that I’m here and listening.

  “Anyway, Gwen told me that she had all kinds of things planned. Dinner. Movies. Shopping. All that shit… So, I said, ‘fuck that. I want to go to the bars and a frat party.’ Vivian just laughed. God, I loved her laugh. I’d do anything to hear that laugh one more time—even if it was directed at me.”

  “Okay, so what happened?” I probe, not knowing if I really want the end of the story, considering that I know how it ends eventually.

  “Gwen said that she’d never take me to any college
parties and bars while I was there. That the point was for us to spend some time together—quality time,” Vivian says, tears streaming down her face. “I was so pissed that she wouldn’t take me out with her… so pissed. That… that… I said, ‘Fine, I’m not coming then.’ I chose to stay home instead of going down to see my sister,” Vivian says, sighing and wiping her eyes. “How could I?”

  I take her into my arms as she sobs into my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Vivian,” I console, stroking her hair.

  “That weekend… the weekend I was supposed to be out shopping and doing whatever with her… she went to some house party with all of her friends. She was standing out on a balcony… the balcony… it… it collapsed from all the weight. Forty-six people were injured… one… one person died. My fucking sister died, because I didn’t go down there to go to the movies with her… fuck… I’d kill to go to a movie with her now… eat dinner… hear her laugh…” Vivian cries, her shoulders shaking.

  “Jesus Vivian, I don’t know what to say,” I admit, holding her tighter. “I’m sorry. That’s just awful.”

  “If I wouldn’t have been so selfish, so juvenile, then she’d… she’d… God Sarah, it’s all my fault,” she says, between sobs and cracks of her voice.

  “No… no… no… you can’t think that way. You don’t know that. You probably would’ve talked her into letting you go and you both would’ve been standing where she was standing,” I say, desperately trying to find the words to take away her pain and anguish.

  “I’m a horrible, selfish person,” she cries, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. This is why I never talk about it. I always… without fail… break down whenever I do. I just carry all this guilt.”

  “Vivian, you can’t blame yourself… what happened to Gwen was not… not… your fault,” I say, trying to convince her.

  “You sound like my shrink… a lot of good he did,” she tries to joke. “All those years spent in therapy… and I’m still a blubbering mess.”