Note: I hope most of you read "Drew's First Time," as this is a continuation of that story. Drew, as I stated there is a fictitious name for one of my fans that has told me a couple of stories about her love life, and they were such good stories, I worked with her to write them. Names and some small things have been fictionalized, but for the most part, this is her true story with as many of the details being totally factual, at least all the details and feelings that I could get her to tell me. I hope you enjoy it.
Pelios
*
The week after I had made love to Marcie, and had done some serious necking with her Mother, Katey, was a strange week that I remember all too well. I was constantly up and down to extremes, so much so that it must be what it is like to be bi-polar. Sometimes I would feel extreme guilt at my behavior and shame that I was at least bisexual if not lesbian. At such moments I would fear my coming weekend with Katey so much that I would consider making up an excuse and canceling. Then at the other extreme, I would get so excited at the prospects of my coming weekend with Mrs. Stengal, that I looked forward to it like I had looked forward to Christmas when I was a child.
I even spent some time that week studying my pussy. I used a magnifying hand mirror and would feel around my clit area trying to find a good place to masturbate. I would do this right before a shower then try out my findings in the shower. What I discovered was that my clit's little head which just barely peeked out of its hood, and only during full sexual arousal, was too sensitive to manipulate directly, at least with something as rough as my fingertip. I finally found that wobbling the hood, or circling it worked best and for the first time in my life I was starting to bring myself to orgasm using my fingers instead of fucking a pillow - which was my tried and true old way of taking care of business.
Also that week, I had begun to look at other girls a little differently, and although I hate to put it this way, I was looking at them as sexual beings instead of competitors for boys. Lots of girls skip showers at school, but many take them regularly and I became one of those that week, so that I could get glimpses of naked girls, comparing, and I don't like admitting it, admiring their bodies. I don't think I saw any that I didn't like, developing an appreciation for plump and skinny and all ranges in between. A small percentage of girls even shaved their nether regions entirely, and I found that pretty fascinating, too. I had to work hard not to stare.
Friday afternoon came around at last, and I decided I was going to wear my nicest, sexiest dress over to see Mrs. Stengal because she always dressed up when I came over. Of course, I didn't actually have a sexy dress, as I wasn't allowed to attend the sorts of functions where one would wear them, so I had to wear one of my church dresses. Still, it wasn't too bad - a white long sleeve, high collared blouse with lace and ruffles and a red and black plaid skirt that was nearly getting tight and was right at knee length. My mother gave me the fish eye about it, even after I explained that it was sort of joke because of the way Mrs. Stengal always dressed formally.
On an interesting note on synchronicity, that week in English class we had covered Robert Burn's poem about the mouse - the one that ends in "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promis'd joy!" So there I was on Mrs. Stengal's porch with my finger on the doorbell and my overnight bag in hand, when things went seriously agley. I, apparently, am the mouse.
Mrs. Stengal answered the door, elegantly attired in a snug and luscious form-fitting black evening dress, and somewhere beyond her, I hear Marcie's voice in the background yelling, "Mom, is it okay if I call Drew and invite her over?"
Mrs. Stengal winced slightly and said, "Her father cancelled at the last minute - claimed he had the flu. I'm sure she has a perfect figure. Sorry, dear, I didn't even have time to call." Then over her shoulder she called, "That's not necessary, dear, Drew is already here." So as Mrs. Stengal ushered me in the hallway, up bounces Marcie and gives my dress and overnight bag a puzzled look. Mrs. Stengal added, "My doesn't Drew look lovely in her dress!"
As I shut the door behind me and we all three advanced into the living room, Marcie, as direct as usual inquired, "Drew I am glad to see you, but what are you doing here? Did you just escape from church or something?" Marcie was dressed in a tee-shirt with horizontal red and white stripes, white shorts so brief that it was a wonder she wasn't leaking pubic hair, and white deck sneakers with no socks. She looked like she had been yachting or something nautical.
I didn't want to lie to Marcie, and frankly the elegant and graceful Mrs. Stengal had already prepared a fairly truthful evasion, "As a matter of fact, Marcie, she was to be my guest this weekend. Last weekend we had a long nice talk and we were planning to have some more discussions and maybe even go out to dinner." Then she added with a cocked eyebrow, "Are you the only one around here who is allowed any friends?" She winked at me as Marcie faked looking rebuked.
This was a mess, and I didn't know what to do. I had always enjoyed coming over here, and had always felt more at home than in my own home, but at the moment, I felt like running screaming out of the door. Instead, I sat down my bag and said, "I'm glad to be here. Maybe you and I should talk first, Mrs. Stengal." I turned to Marcie, "I hope you don't mind, Marcie. I'll get with you in just a little while."
"Certainly, Drew, just follow me into my bedroom and we'll have a little chat." She turned to Marcie, "Why don't you go set the table, dear. I'll be out in a few minutes to put something together for dinner."
Marcie nodded and Mrs. Stengal led me into her bedroom and shut the door behind me. She gathered me in her arms and gave me a hug then a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm so sorry, Drew. You can't imagine how much I looked forward to our time together this weekend." She drew away a little and gave me an up and down examination. "Wow, you look so hot in that dress, and what that blouse does for your breasts!"
"Yeah well," I sighed, "I've just got to get these pantyhose off. It wasn't so bad outside in fall weather, but inside, it will make me sweat. My mother insisted I wear them with a dress."
"Oh, let me!" Katey cried, promptly kneeling at my feet and sliding her hands up the outside of my legs. I noticed she was wearing a ponytail tonight and a diamond necklace, a really expensive diamond necklace, and I was a bit stunned at her kneeling in front of me. She glanced up at me, "Please just hold up the hem of your dress, dear, so I can watch what I'm doing?"
I felt brazen, embarrassed, horrified and titillated. Not so much in that order but in a continuous roller coaster of a loop as I blushed but obeyed, raising my hem up to my breasts and exposing myself from the navel down. Slowly she peeled my pantyhose down, taking care not to pull my panties down with them, and slowly pulled them down to my ankles, removed my shoes one at a time and slipped the hose off my feet. Then while I looked down her cleavage she leaned forward and gave me a warm kiss on my panties where they covered the right side of my hip.
She stood, a little pink in the face herself, and kissed me deeply. That was the first time I had noticed what a long tongue she had. After quite a long kiss, she stepped back and said quietly, "I'm going to go scrape something together for dinner, but first, have you decided what your major will be in college?"
I was still trying to catch my breath but I ventured, "Um, no."
"Well," she said with a raised eyebrow, "I am thinking about returning to college to get my masters or maybe pursue another degree. There, we have talked about colleges, our futures, and possible majors. That will give you something to explain to Marcie, who I am sure will have questions." She handed me my pantyhose and led me out the door and over to the dining area, where Marcie was pouring glasses of water.
"That will do, Marcie. Thanks for the help. I'm going to try and throw us something together, so take Drew upstairs and play while I fix dinner. I'll call when it's ready."
Marcie gave me a big grin and led me up the stairs to her room after I grabbed my bag and slipped the pantyhose inside. Once inside Marcie's room, the smile fell off her face. "Drew are you upset with me about something?" It was hard not to stare at her tanned shapely legs in those curiously brief shorts.
"Of course not! Why do you ask?" I really didn't have a clue.
