Beth's Flames Erupt with Shirley

My eyes were closed when I felt it, ever so lightly, through my thin camisole. My co-worker and honestly, probably now my best friend, Shirley, was behind me in the king bed we had shared on our first night at the trade show. A second time, I felt Shirley gently kiss my back between my shoulder blades, and felt my whole body shiver. I'm sure she felt me tremble, and knew I woke when she'd finished showering and crawled into bed behind me.

This time, her lips stayed pressed against me, and I felt her fingertips gently play with the leg seam of my panties. With her middle finger still hooked in the leg seam, I felt her thumbnail lightly trace ever so slowly, ever, ever, soooo... slowly, down my ass crack, and pinch fabric and elastic between her thumb and middle finger. I moaned softly, feeling my pussy begin wetting the gusset in my panties. Shirley pulled the fabric and elastic a quarter-inch from my lower ass cheek. I felt cool air on me and held my breath, waiting in agony.

We had arrived late from the airport and checked in after 11:00 last night. Our "two queens" room had long-since been given to other guests. We could share a king room, or we could find another hotel. Shirley told the clerk we would take the king, and we walked away, agreeing we were lucky to have any room.

The flight from Phoenix to Ft. Lauderdale had been long, but sitting side by side in an open area in the rear of the half-full plane had given us time to de-program from work, and share intimate stories of our childhoods, school, college, and how we came to work in the same department at our architectural firm. Shirley, who looked like a cheerleading candidate with a cute face, perky breasts, and a very cute ass, was actually quite intellectual.

Mostly, though, she was really easy to talk with, both listening when I needed her to, and prompting me with her own thoughts and anecdotes. I could tell she really like me.

We'd been assigned to this work team for only a few months now, but realized fairly quickly that we shared many likes. Somehow, she had even gotten me to acknowledge that every now and then, I get a certain pang in my center when I see another woman in a particular light. Like at the grocery store recently, when a woman who had passed me in the aisle, smelling lightly of lavender, proceeded to bend over reaching for an organic tomato on the other side of the stand. I probably only paused for a millisecond, but for the next two days it was all I could do thrashing myself to understand why I'd hesitated.

At lunch on that second day, Shirley noticed a slight distraction as we spoke, and looked me straight in the eyes, asking, "Beth, are you seeing someone new?"

Startled, I said, "What, why do you ask that? No, I'm still bumbling with no luck. What about you?"

Shirley said, "No luck here, either, but you seemed distant, like you were re-playing something over and over." Damn, Shirley can be so perceptive!

With a little twinkle, I smirked and said "Shirl, it's really hard for me to say this, but I'm getting so horny lately that I actually got turned on for a second the other day when a middle-aged woman bent over a vegetable table at the store. She was wearing yoga pants that left nothing about her ass or cameltoe to the imagination."

Shirley lowered her voice and leaned in, "Fuck Beth, that's really hot. I know what you mean, if I don't get my hands on a stud soon, I'm going to marry my own fingers." With that, I burst out laughing at the thought of her at the alter, pledging her "I Do's" to her fingers and placing a ring thereon.

Shirley laughed along for a little bit, but stayed in low-voice mode and still leaning in, looking up with those hazel eyes that seemed to magnetize my eyes to hers since the moment she walked into my life. Falling into those eyes felt like my DNA was being re-ordered.

I stared back, resisting the urge to lift a wisp of bangs that had fallen over her eyebrow. God, she was cute.

Shirley asked if I had ever had that kind of reaction to a woman before?

For the first time in my life, I began telling another soul that I had been overcome by sexual feelings in the girls locker room the first time we all undressed and used the showers together.

I had known for several years already that I liked kissing boys, and felt like an absolute princess when they would flatter me, send me notes, and eventually began asking me out on dates.

Later, when I was a senior, I had delighted in seeing my first cock and balls. The guy had a sexy white butt, and I'll never forget taking him in my mouth, and feeling his cock grow and twitch, expanding until his cum burst into my mouth, spilling out as I coughed and tried to swallow. Being barebacked face down in the back seat of my boyfriend's car, my jeans and panties pulled down around my ankles, my bra and panties pulled up to my chin, and feeling him ejaculate deep in my womb was surreal and extremely pleasurable. I especially liked reaching between my legs to feel his big hairy balls slapping my clit. I was always horny for him, and nearly died when he left early for a college five states away.

There was just no denying, though, that I also had an underlying urge, even craving, to feel, smell, and taste a woman. In fact, I have woken from night dreams where a girl has dropped her soap in the shower next to me, reached over to pick it up, and I said, "Here, let me.. but my soapy hand instead went directly to her ass, with my fingers slipping like silk through her pubic hair, over her clitty, and into her pussy and ass like you would hold a bowling ball. I would inevitably wake in a sweat, hearing her delicious music as she came loudly all over my hand. I would always raise my fingers to my nose to confirm my hand had actually been frigging myself.

Now, to Shirley, mentioned only the briefest details of the gym shower experience, using it as a little crutch, explaining that ever since that first day in the showers, I believed it had created a stigma which caused me to overreact to normal little glimpses of attractive women doing erotic things.

I described how, recently, I thought I saw my nail tech glance between my knees while doing my pedi. I'd gone to Liz for several years and knew her to be straight as an arrow and dedicated to her hubby and kids. But that day, I was looking at a magazine and talking away when I bent one corner toward me on a hunch, and I swear I caught her eyes between my slightly parted legs. I'm sure I blushed badly, pulling my knees back together and quickly trying to remember which panties I'd worn.

Shirley patted my hand a few times and said, "Girl, you think you might just need a good night out with the man of your choosing?"

I responded, "Oh, totally, I've asked myself a million times if I have any bi- or lesbian inclinations, and the answer is emphatically no!"

I would rather die than find out I'm like my aunt. She had gotten in a little trouble for allowing under-age drinking when some of the sorority girls would stay overnight at her house on weekends. One of their moms figured it out when her daughter's phone made a butt call, and she listened to the obviously drunk girls talking to a deeper-voiced woman talking about being careful in the tub while drinking wine. The girls were all laughing too much, talking too loudly, and the mom could hear the distinct sounds of slapping skin and occasional moaning and doves crying. Nothing was ever proven, but the mom made a lot of noise to the dean, and my aunt, who was a declared spinstress, got called on the carpet. My mom had told me that growing up, her sister had several times been caught in bed with her girlfriends, fully clothed, but suspected of kissing and petting under the covers as they giggled away.

Aunt Erin had always been very nice to me, buying me clothes on my birthday and Christmas, and taking genuine interest in how they looked on me. I could always count on her to give me stuff I liked and that my mom approved. As I got older, we had a little secret about the sexier bra and panty sets she gave me that stayed only at her house (unless I wanted to sneak them out for use on a date without my mother knowing. A few times, I had to apologize to Aunt Erin for returning them unwashed because mom made borrowing our washer/dryer too dangerous.) She did have a pension for bare-ass, over the knee spanking, but I'll leave that for another time.

Shirley's lips kissed my shoulder blade, and pressed her nose into me. She scooted up to spoon me and kissed the base of my neck, whispering in a sultry voice, "Beth, I'm sorry. Your perfume is keeping me from getting to sleep, and I'm unbearably horny. May I touch you, sweetie? I know you need it too, and I think I'm in love with you."

I felt the nail on her middle finger touch the center of my anus with the force of a light feather. I lifted my knee an inch, and she pressed in to the tip of her finger. My pussy began gushing girl cum in a steady flow. She withdrew the finger, extended it to the top of my pussy, and slowly dragged it through my bush, over my nub, wiggling it back and forth, and down through my sopping slit. She added two other fingers and easily pressed all three in all the way up to the third knuckles. When she pressed them forward into my g-spot, and pulled them back into my anus, I lost it. Girl cum squirted everywhere, soaking her hand and making a puddle on our sheets. She brought her fingers to my mouth and ran them back and forth over my lips, coating them with my cum. I opened my mouth and sucked them like an erect cock.

For the first time, I reached back, and grasped her panty covered ass cheek. She used her other hand to wrap around my shoulder-length hair, and pulled it back in a way that made my head turn to her. Shirley kissed my ear, sucked on my lobe, and penetrated my ear with her pointed tongue. I gushed again and again, gurgling in my effort to find enough oxygen. I had an insane need to taste her mouth. She rarely smoked, but last night in the gift shop, she had picked up a pack, and had smoked several cigarettes on our balcony before I went into the shower. It was a little thing, but when I turned toward her, I caught a whiff of tobacco.

Our tongues met as we twisted into each others arms. We moved our breasts back and forth, felt each others' every curve and crevice, with tongues flicking over and over, exploring each others' tongues, teeth, and feeling pubic hairs. I pushed up on all fours, my tits hanging where she reached for me easily. I lifted my leg over her head as she spread her legs open for me. Her panties were as wet as if she had peed herself. I buried my nose deep in the wetness, inhaling the most intoxicating aroma known to humans. I buried my fingertips in her ass cheeks and fumbled to slide her panties down her ass. I could only get them to her ankles, where they would remain for over twenty minutes.

I felt Shirley's hands pressing my head into her pussy and her thighs kept clapping my ears as she bucked her hips up uncontrollably. My lips were split by my teeth banging her pubic bone. Between screams that I was sure would wake everyone sleeping on hotel row, she lifted her hips to the highest possible place and began squirting like a gusher. I covered her with my mouth until she easily filled it entirely, then pulled away, twisting and turning until my mouth met hers to share this heavenly gift. We scissored ourselves into endless orgasms, kissing, sucking and even biting each other's tits.

As I write this on my laptop on our flight home, I'm having severe trouble putting the "But, I'm straight!" puzzle pieces back together. Maybe because my body is begging me to invite Shirley to help me with a little problem in the restroom.