This is a true story. It recounts my very first tentative foray into the world of pleasure. Looking back, I believe I was fortunate to have been ushered into this delectable realm by the gentle persuasion of a very caring, very sensual woman.
*
Sam was a year older than I was, about my height, with long, wavy blond hair - attractive, but more of an athletic type than the dainty female kind. She had a boyfriend she'd been seeing for a couple of years, so I never really saw any indication that she'd be interested in another woman. And I certainly wasn't. I was a virgin, in every sense of the word, had not yet known an orgasm. She was not.
She wasn't my original college roommate, with whom I soon found myself to be at odds, though we put up a cordial front. So when I met Sam through a classmate of mine, and we hit it off right away, we decided to room together, my original roommate also having made a more suitable alliance. Sam and I settled in seamlessly - we became good friends, went to parties together, double dated, enjoyed hanging out with mutual friends - in other words, life was easy with her. But there was never anything more than friendship between us - not a look, not a touch, nothing whatsoever.
One day in early spring, I came down with a mild flu - nothing bad, just a low-grade fever and utter exhaustion. I was stuck in bed for a couple of days, during which time she fussed over me like a mother hen, always making sure I had anything I needed, bringing me soup and medicine - you name it, she did it. One night, when my fever was making me uncomfortable, she wet a washcloth with cool water and laid it on my forehead. It felt so good, cooling me off enough that I could finally fall asleep.
I woke up sometime later in the night - the room was dark, with only a small nightlight behind one of the desks, giving off just enough light that if we had to get up in the middle of the night, we wouldn't kill ourselves - and I saw her sitting on the edge of my bed, lightly rubbing the cool washcloth over my neck and chest, above the top of my nightshirt. I told her she didn't need to do that, I was fine, but she said I'd been moaning in my sleep and figured it was because of the fever - told me not to worry about it, just go back to sleep. Her ministrations were cooling, comforting, and I was so tired ... I eventually drifted back off to sleep.
When I awoke a while later, she was again sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping me with the wet washcloth, telling me that I'd been moaning again. But this time I discovered she'd unbuttoned the top buttons on my shirt so that the washcloth was now not only going over my neck and chest, but down between my breasts as well. I felt uncomfortable with this and took the washcloth from her - told her she should get some sleep, that I would be ok. She retrieved the washcloth from me, freshened it with more cool water, and laying it back on my forehead, left my side to climb into her bed, telling me to wake her should I have need of anything.
The hour was late now, and I had fallen into a deep, if troubled, sleep; if there was any further contact between us before I next awoke, I wouldn't remember it. I only recall waking up a third time to find her sitting on the bed, leaning over me, whispering that I'd had a bad dream, that everything was ok. She was comforting me, caressing, pushing back my hair, running her hands down my arms, then across my stomach, under the blanket. Slowly, she moved her hands up over my rib cage, on up to my breasts, lightly stroking them over my shirt. I froze, didn't know what to do, what to think. I started to ask her what she was doing, but she cut me off, shushing me, telling me to "just relax." I was so confused; I just lay there while she moved her thumbs back and forth over my nipples that had started to harden under my shirt. I liked the feel of it, and it started to arouse me, but when she began to unbutton more of my shirt, I impulsively grabbed the front of it to keep it closed, not sure I wanted her to go any further with this ... whatever 'this' was. She took my hands from my shirt and laid them on the bed at my sides, telling me that she was merely exploring something, wanted to see if I'd enjoy it. I just couldn't seem to comprehend what was happening - so naive - I simply couldn't grasp the idea of a woman touching me so intimately. Dumbly, I let her unbutton my shirt, tried to relax, see what would happen. She pulled it open then, exposing my breasts, and I panicked, quickly covering them with my hands. I needed to know why she was doing this, what she wanted from me. She leaned over me until we were face to face and asked if I'd ever been with a woman before. I just stared at her, couldn't think of what to say, wondering why I would ever want to be with a woman. But all I said was no.