by Limey Lady
‘I don’t have a farm,’ I said predictably, secretly thanking the stars that I had pyjamas to change into. I normally slept in the altogether and had been planning on wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Mum had got me brand-new jammies though, giving me them at the last moment. I wasn’t so sure about the powder blue colour, but I definitely appreciated the kindly gesture.
‘Let’s change publicly,’ Sara went on. ‘I’ll go first.’
‘What about your mum?’ I demurred, wanting her to override my insincere objection.
‘She won’t drop by for an hour yet, at the soonest. Now pay attention. I’m only going to do this once.’
Sara slowly unbuttoned her blouse, watching me all the while. I tried to return her gaze but gravity had taken control of my eyes. They kept slipping downwards, eager to see her bare flesh.
I haven’t mentioned it before but Sara’s skin tone was ace. A lot of girls with auburn hair are very pale but she was better than just lightly bronzed. Seeing more and more of her was a massive thrill.
Thrill? I could feel myself moistening down there. I’d never been more thrilled in my life.
Eventually the blouse was off and discarded on a chair.
‘I’ll let you remove my bra,’ she said.
I don’t mind admitting I was all thumbs in obliging. Never having needed one, I had no experience of bras at all. Some of my boy friends at school would probably have unhooked the darn thing with more efficiency. But, after a few muttered curses, I got there.
And it was worth it. I tossed her bra onto the chair and feasted my eyes on her wonderful, marvellous, splendid tits. I already knew they were firm and round. Now I saw they were virtually self-supporting and came equipped with nipples of a similar size to mine. Unable to stop myself, I took hold, a boob in either hand.
‘Jesus, Sara,’ I breathed.
‘Later,’ she said, breathless herself. ‘Let me finish.’
Reluctantly, I took a backwards step. Sara deftly unbuttoned her jeans and tugged down the zip.
‘You’re beyond beautiful,’ I said as she stepped out of them. ‘And where did you get that tan?’
She laughed tunefully, obviously proud her tits didn’t have white bits. ‘That’s for me to know.’
‘And for me to find out,’ I added hopefully.
Then I shut up as she removed her knickers. What a sight! I believe I told you she had sparse pubic hair. That was because she’d shaved most of it off. All that was left was a tapering landing strip that looked like an arrow, pointing to that magnetic clit of hers.
‘Jesus, Sara,’ I said again.
‘I’m leaving the socks on for now,’ she told me, indicating the black ankle ones which, at that moment, represented her entire wardrobe.
‘They’re very nice,’ I assured her. ‘They don’t cover much, but never mind that.’
Laughing once more, Sara put on her pyjamas. They were not too dissimilar to mine except they were powder pink rather than blue. Needless to say, she looked great in them.
I’m not going to describe my striptease as it wasn’t a patch on Sara’s. All I will say is that she seemed to enjoy it immensely and congratulated me on my white socks.
‘Virgin wear,’ she chortled, ‘how utterly inappropriate is that!’
Then, when we were modestly clad and sitting side-by-side on her bed, halfway through the stunning vinyl Bat Out of Hell, Mrs C came a-calling.
‘Pretty in pink and bonny in blue,’ she said, smiling at us. ‘Don’t let the paperboy see you like that in the morning. You’ll give him a heart attack.’
‘As if,’ said Sara, lowering the volume, which wasn’t very high in the first place.
‘I brought you this.’ Mrs C handed her a bottle of Beaujolais and a corkscrew. ‘It’ll help you sleep.’
She made a little small talk then, after giving her daughter a final kiss on her forehead, said she would see us both on Tuesday and left.
‘I don’t think it’ll help me sleep,’ I said while Sara hunted out glasses. ‘I’ve never felt less like sleeping in my life.’
‘Me neither,’ she said, chortling again.
Chapter Seven
It was five to one when we heard the first sounds of departure. Internal doors closing, then an external one opening and closing. Then car doors being shut as quietly as car doors could be shut. And then there was the polite cough of an expensive engine.
We had turned the lights off shortly before midnight and retired to our separate beds (mine being the smaller, folding one, naturally). Bright car headlights momentarily swept through a gap in the curtains, raking the ceiling.
Then Sara’s parents were gone.
At last!
Heart in mouth time or what!
‘Come on then,’ said Sara, ‘what are you waiting for?’
I was out of my bed and across the room in an instant, my heart doing all the (by then) usual unusual things. Then I hesitated and fumbled with the top button on my jammies.
‘No,’ said Sara, surprising me, ‘leave them on for now. My dad’s very forgetful. He might come back for something.’
Even with the lights off it wasn’t very dark in there. I could see Sara’s eyes shining but couldn’t read her emotions. Was she copping out, I wondered.
‘Shall we wait a little longer?’ I asked out loud.
‘No way! If they do come back they won’t come in here. And even if they do, as long as we’re not naked we’ll be all right. Get in here right now.’
That was good enough for me. I was in there in a flash.
And how cosy was that! Sara’s bed seemed to be large for a single but that hardly mattered; we only wanted the space needed for one eighteen-year-old girl. We used it avidly as well. Good God, didn’t we just!!
I can’t tell you how exciting that hour or so was. Exciting and rewarding too. Although we only kissed and caressed, avoiding intimate sexual contact, it was the best experience I’d had up to then. No, it was the best experience I’d ever had, by miles and miles and bar none.
Did I just say we avoided intimate sexual contact? Well we did and we didn’t. Without discussing does and don’ts we tacitly agreed to keep away from the two obvious areas. Thing was though, everywhere else had suddenly become erogenous. Every single touch was a delight to give or take.
I suppose the occasion was heightened by us being lying together in a bed. That was infinitely better than standing or leaning against a wall; I can assure you of that. And it was far superior to snogging and groping, even if we were being restrained about it.
We were in bed together, for Christ’s sake! We were alone and in bed together!! Endless possibilities were ours to explore!!!
Finally Sara decided her parents weren’t going to pay a return visit. ‘Come on,’ she said, getting up and pulling me after her. ‘Let’s go have sex.’
I was a bit puzzled but followed her meekly. And I wasn’t altogether shocked when I found myself in the master bedroom.
‘We might as well do it in style,’ said Sara, switching on one of the two bedside lamps but leaving the room otherwise unlit. ‘And now you can take your top off.’
Unexpectedly self-conscious, I stared back at her. ‘You do it for me,’ my mouth said of its own volition.
With enviably steady hands, Sara unfastened all three buttons and eased the silky, satiny garment off me.
‘Now you do it for me,’ she said.
Two seconds later we were starkers on the double bed and I was feasting on her tits like a starving woman. To tell the truth, I probably overdid it. Not that Sara seemed to mind. She sighed, moaned and groaned in all the right places as I licked, nibbled and sucked.
And I’m certain neither of her orgasms were feigned.
Then it was my turn and she’d flicked that switch again. My non-existent breasts were supersensitive; great bolts of pleasure were striking through my heart, directly hitting me you-know-where.
My orgasms weren’t feigned either . . . none of the umpte
en I had in the space of half an hour or less.
*****
I went down on Sara at four am on the dot.
Yes, I know how nerdy that statement is but it’s also actually, factually true. Here’s a little background.
I said already that I’d been on the Internet, doing my homework on types of lesbian, remember? Well, when it comes to homework I’m nothing if not thorough, so I’d watched quite a few “adult” videos too. I wanted to know more about the things lesbians did to each other, you see. I wanted to know what sort of games Sara might expect me to play.
I wouldn’t be lying if I said I was spoiled for choice. And I certainly wouldn’t be lying if I said the myriad options staggered me. Okay, so I did get carried away and I tried far too many of the alternative searches suggested at the top of my screen. But I couldn’t stop myself; girls seemed to have so many different ways of bringing each other off.
All of them sexy as hell!
A myriad options or not, I had concluded there was one basic act that nearly all of the actresses came back to, time after time. And to a woman they definitely enjoyed it; that was only too obvious. There was not one single sign of them sharing my worries about doing that . . . about me bringing my mouth into play down there.
So: back to our first session in and on Sara’s parents’ bed. After we’d sated ourselves on each other’s tits we paid our pussies some well-deserved attention. By that I mean manually, and internally as well as externally.
We did that for ages. Neither one of us wanted to be the one who stopped first. And please don’t think there was any selfishness in that. I’m sure Sara felt the same as I did, and I was determined she would be the last one to be pleasured.
(Pleasured! That sounds a bit like Emily Bronte meets Jackie Collins, doesn’t it!!)
We were, as I implied a moment ago, taking turns to be the active partner, both of us set on being the last giver. I noticed Mrs C’s digital alarm clock whilst laying back and being attended to. It was almost three and I was starting to wonder if the night would ever end. Not that I necessarily wanted it to end anytime soon; I was just concerned that my supply of cums might dry up.
Then the resolution struck me, out of the blue: If we’re still at it in an hour I’m going down on her.
Well, you know me and promises. I’m as determined to keep unspoken ones as I am with ones I’ve sworn on oath.
‘Oh yes,’ Sara said as the clock showed 4:00 and I slid downwards, kissing her bellybutton on the way past. ‘Oh yes, yes please.’
Her sex was nearly as wet as mine. That is to say she was absolutely sodden and I was saturated. Not giving myself opportunity to think and wimp, I dabbed at her clit with the flat of my tongue.
And I was instantly converted. Thoughts of the act being unhygienic or somehow demeaning left me, vanishing like ghosts before dawn. Sara tasted of honey and, if anyone was being submissive, it was her, not me.
‘Oh yes,’ she repeated, ‘oh yes, yes please.’
Suddenly I was a kid let loose in a sweetshop. I didn’t so much feast on her as binge on her.
Heaven; it was sheer heaven.
Chapter Eight
I woke with an enormous grin plastered on my face and with Sara’s pussy perhaps two inches from my snub of a nose. After I’d had a very greedy go at her she’d gone down on me and that had been heavenly too. I certainly didn’t protest as she went on and on and on.
Here’s a memory for you; I can actually see it, as if it happened only yesterday. Me on my back, legs akimbo, gladly accepting the fact my cum supply wasn’t exhausted after all. Sara had assumed the giving position yet again. Perhaps by telepathy, she looked up at me as I gazed along my trembling, so grateful body at her.
Her face was glistening with my pussy juice. I chuckled as I realized the skin of my face was taut with her slowly drying nectar. Or maybe we were both coated in sweat, saliva, nectar and juices. It was a very primal thing to see and feel and I relished it.
‘More,’ I urged. ‘Please give me more.’
Our final act of the night had been a rather optimistic effort at sixty-nine. I went on top at first, without too much dignity and grace. In fact I was downright clumsy. Okay, we did both get something out of it but I also got neck-ache and a strained tongue.
Sara’s visit on top had been certainly more graceful, although I can’t answer for her neck and tongue. I certainly got off on it, anyway. And I seriously enjoyed our curtain call: more sixty-nine but with us on our sides, me with my head towards the foot of the bed. That was good and cool and mutual.
I’d enjoyed it so much I nodded off.
*****
Waking in pretty much the same position that I’d dropped off in, I didn’t immediately know if Sara was still asleep or not. Being considerate, I didn’t say anything or resume my nibbling (and trust me: nibbling was a bigger temptation than wishing her good morning!).
Instead I congratulated myself on a virginity successfully lost. I wasn’t sure exactly when it had gone; I’m unsure of that even now, years later, but I knew it was no more. The way I saw it (and this may be a tad unspecific for an IT nerd who went down at four am on the dot), my maidenhood had left me at some stage between Sara’s party and me falling asleep an hour or two ago.
For once I couldn’t make myself bother about precise times. All I knew was that, from being so chaste and untouched, I had now shared countless orgasms and been penetrated by both my lover’s fingers and tongue. And we’d exchanged gallons and gallons of body fluids. Hey, by now our DNA would be as close a match as non-related girls could possibly get!
I also dwelt at length on oral sex. Those actresses were right to keep going back to that basic act. No wonder they all so clearly enjoyed playing their parts. It was definitely one I would be regularly going back to.
No, it was one I would be going back to every time I had sex. In the unlikely event of anyone asking my advice, I’d recommend it without hesitation.
“Get your face in her fanny,” I’d say. “It doesn’t matter if it’s her first time or yours. Be gentle, don’t bite and you can’t go wrong.”
Of course I’m older and wiser now. I know that some girls want to be bitten . . .
*****
So that’s me and my virginity parted. And I’m in need of a break, even though I’ve scarcely begun. I’ll leave you with the image of Sara’s sweet pussy and the aphrodisiac smell of her juices. I will be back with more ere long.
And next time the sex won’t be drawn out and tentative. I promise you that.
###
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading about Davina. Alternative versions of her adventures (some of them wildly differing!) are already available on Smashwords (see Other Books by LimeyLady on the next page and watch out for the New Beginnings series and Two Sides to Every Story).
Other books by LimeyLady
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 01
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 02
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 03
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 04
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 05
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 06
Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 07
New Beginnings
New Beginnings Advance