Out of Peoria: A Story of Innocence lost.
Chapter 5: An equally kinky night!
It was far past midnight and one by one, with final kisses, the girls who lived upstairs retired to the bedroom. Lynda and I where finally alone.
“You know, you have a gorgeous body,” Lynda said, setting down her drink.
“Thank you,” said I. “You are rather well off in that department yourself!”
Lynda looked at me with a slight twinkle in her eye. She didn’t beat about the bush! “Well let’s see if mine does for you what yours does for me!”
And so saying she set herself next to me on the couch and began stroking my breasts gently. I responded in kind and we ran our fingertips over each other, moving ever closer. Lynda’s thighs parted invitingly. Mine too and I felt a sudden thrill as my forefinger detected the moisture that was already emanating from Lynda’s pussy. I found suddenly that I also was very moist and highly aroused. I mirrored Lynda’s stimulation, sliding my forefinger around her pussy lips in a circular motion, increasing the pressure incrementally as the juices flowed from inside of her.
We began to kiss, more and more passionately and in a way that I had never kissed before. As our tongues entwined I felt Lynda’s finger ease my pussy lips apart and enter my cunt, always with that circular motion, exploring, expanding, entering, exiting; around, in, out, around, ever deeper. I, the novice, wanting to move further, faster, Lynda, the experienced, holding me back, keeping the motion gentle, slow, incremental. Mouths entwined, we explored every millimeter of our vulvas, sliding a finger slowly upwards to our clits, back to the vagina, back up to circle the clit with agonizing slowness, further up to stroke the sides of the clit hood, back to the vagina, penetrating deeper, spreading copiously flowing cunt juices all around our vulvas.
Our bodies began to jerk involuntarily as we approached orgasm. Again, I, the novice, impatient, Lynda, the experienced, holding me back, maintaining that state of pre-orgasmic bliss that I had never known before existed. How long we remained in this state of grace I could not say. Inevitably, unable to hold back my own reaction to even the most sensitive stimulus, I was the first to boil over, engulfed in orgasmic spasms that seemed to start deep within me and erupt to encompass my entire body, which shook and heaved involuntarily in wave after wave of ecstasy that would not cease.
Indeed, it did not cease! The moment my thighs re-opened as I collapsed back on the couch, Lynda moved down and began to stimulate my still pulsating clit with her tongue. Always gentle, never impatient, Lynda’s tongue explored my cunt lips, cunt and clit, keeping me on that high elysian plane of sexual ecstasy until I felt again those involuntarily spasms engulf me. For a second time I convulsed in orgasm, more intense even than the first, and even then Lynda’s tongue did not cease its exploration, and did not until I was truly fully and completely spent. I believe I actually blacked out, collapsed on the couch, limp, incapable of movement, rational thought, word or deed.
When I came to, Lynda was smoking what I assumed was a cigarette (though I later realized it was something a little stronger!). Her legs were apart and her cunt, still glistening gleamed out at me. She was stroking it gently with a careless forefinger, circling her cunt lips then opening them and sliding her finger up and down her slit in endless repetition.
“ Quite a little tiger, aren’t you,” she said with a smile.
Still woozy, all I could utter was a grunt of sorts. There was a short silence. My eyes were riveted on Lynda’s cunt as though mesmerized.
Lynda continued, “I do believe you didn’t know you are a lesbian?”
This came right out of the blue and shook me well and truly out of my stupor.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“What I said,” Lynda replied. “I don’t think you knew you are a lesbian.”
Suddenly I was fully cogniscent! Everything my mid-west upbringing had instilled in me rebelled immediately to the thought and my instinct was to retort “I’m not a lesbian!” However, the facts on the ground gave me pause. Eventually I said,
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s rather obvious, dear, don’t you think? Don’t be offended. There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. It’s just the way you are made.”
I was utterly lost for words. Lynda continued,
“You’ve surely noticed,” she said, “that you are turned on by the female body. I spotted it immediately I saw you in the dressing room, the way you looked at the girls. You just have not made the obvious connection.”
“And look at you now,” she continued coquettishly using two fingers to widen her slit. “You can’t keep your eyes off it, can you!”
What use was it to point out that in the mid-west you were not allowed even to utter the word “lesbian”, let alone own up to being one!
“Lynda, you have me confused,” I said. “Where I grew up the very word ‘lesbian’ is never uttered. There are women and there are men, and that’s about it.”
“Oh tell me about it,” Lynda sighed. “There is so much ignorance, and prejudice. But take my word for it. You are a lesbian. You just need to admit it to yourself and your life will be so much the better for it. Look…” she drew attention to her glistening body and her glittering vulva and inserted two fingers deep into her cunt. In and out. Around the edges, up to the clit and back in and out. “Tell me this does not turn you on.”
I had to admit to myself that it did, but it was too sudden. I was not quite ready.
“But if I am a lesbian,” I said, “how come I enjoy sex so much with men?”
“Oh come now,” Lynda said, admonishingly. “Any woman can provide sex for a man. I get turned on myself by the sight of a stiff cock and occasionally I orgasm when it pounds in and out of me. But it’s rare unless there are girls around. It’s the sight of the girls enjoying themselves that really puts me over the top. Ask yourself, how often have you come with a man in a one-on-one”
I was still thinking about this when Lynda continued
“Anyway, I bet you never came with a man when he is doing what he wants, unless of course it is also what you want. That’s the key. It’s not what the man wants, it’s what you want! And you want me, don’t you. You want me more than you have ever wanted any man. Have you ever come like you just did with a man?”
I remained silent, because she was right. I thought of the session I had had with Jane and Alicia, ending in my first real orgasm, and I realized that this also was on a different plane from the sex I had had with men. I had assumed my lack of interest in sex with my ex-husband was because he was such a jerk, but I had to admit that I had never really been ‘sexually involved’ with a man, not in the sense I had just been involved with Lynda, not even with Alex, who I had fucked for hours!
Lynda filled the silence. “Well you don’t need to give it a name if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but my bet is you find this ..” again she drew attention to her cunt “quite attractive. And, unless I am very much mistaken, you owe me at least three orgasms! Shall we begin?”
I could not quibble on the three orgasms. In fact, it had seemed like one continuous, orgasm that lasted about an hour! And whether I was a lesbian or not, I needed no second invitation to administer to that gorgeous glistening cunt. In no time flat I was licking and sucking on Lynda’s cunt and clit as if there were no tomorrow! And she was vocal in her enjoyment of it. We were both in seventh heaven. But whatever I did to Lynda, whether with tongue, finger, fingernails or teeth, though she seemed continuously close, I could not bring her to orgasm.
After an age, Lynda said,
“Darling, you are doing wonderfully. However, maybe we should move up a notch?”
Of course I had no idea what she meant, but by this time I was completely under her spell.
Lynda directed my attention to a drawer on the underside of the plinth at the center for the room, where we had serviced the Guests. Inside I found a variety of instruments, and in particular the ‘pussy whip’ Lynda nodded was what she had in mind. It was short and had a thick, leather thong.
“Perfect,” was Lynda’s comment.
She sat on the couch with her legs splayed so that her cunt was fully exposed.
“Ten strokes on the right lip, ten on the left, and let’s take it from there” was her comment. “Make sure you don’t miss! That thing can mark your thigh for a month!”
Of course I was horrified. But as I said, I was under Lynda’s spell and whatever she asked me to do I was going to do.
I began tentatively, aiming the whip at the right cunt lip and trying hard not to ‘miss’, as instructed. But Lynda was scathing in her response.
