Fara My First

[The following story is the continuation of "Fara, My First", which is in the Erotic Couplings Category. I've placed this part in the Lesbian Category because I wanted to ensure that my story reached a queer audience. This, the second part, can be read without the first.]

* * * * *

I woke up on the bathroom floor a couple of hours later, wearing the pink t-shirt I remembered having worn to the bar, my jeans were crumpled in a corner. I could feel the dildo between my legs. As I raised my head, nausea and pain swept over me. I struggled to kneel and raised the toilet lid. The dildo was still half inside of me as I leaned over the toilet, and the contents of my stomach rushed past my lips in a powerful stream. I allowed the contractions to overtake my body until I was fully purged.

Leaning on the toilet bowel with bile coating my lips, the tips of my long curly hair dangling in the toilet, and a used dildo halfway inside of me, I felt that I had hit rock bottom. I shut my eyes and was confronted with scenes from last night. Fara being fucked by that jock. Tears streamed past my shut lids. A sob escaped my lips before I could stifle it. I had to be quiet; I didn't want her to know what state I was in.

"What a way to realize you're in love with your best friend. What a way to realize that you're queer," I thought wryly to myself.

I looked at my watch. It was 5:30am. I wiped my face and stood up slowly. My head spun as I looked in the mirror. A small purple bruise marked my forehead where it had slammed into the wall. I had to see if she was sleeping, then I could clean up and get into bed before she knew anything about what I had done. I opened the bathroom door quietly and padded to the bedroom.

The blinds weren't drawn and the sun had just begun to rise. She was sprawled on her bed, naked beneath her red kimono robe and as beautiful as ever. She must have sent the jock home. But she had still fucked him. I was overcome with the urge to slap her. I wanted to lunge forward and grab those slim shoulders and shake her, ask her why she had done it. Had she enjoyed it?

But she didn't owe me anything, even if I was in love with her. I wondered if she had known all along how I felt. Had she been teasing me? No, she hadn't. I knew that she wasn't that type of person. She was an innocent vixen, if such a thing existed. I released my anger and grabbed my towel before returning to the bathroom.

As I showered, I felt my soaped up pussy. It was sore from my shenanigans with the dildo last night and I felt ashamed for having spied on her, for having fucked myself as I spied on her. I had been reduced to these perversions by the power of my unrequited love for her. This couldn't go on. I needed to talk to her, to tell her how I felt. The hot water felt fantastic as I rigorously soaped up my body. I wanted to wash all of it away, to come to her clean and pure, and then explain how I felt.

I heard the door creak, and then her groggy-but-crisp British morning voice:

"Hey, can I come in?" she said. My breathing quickened. Of course, we frequently used the sink while the other was in the shower. But I wondered frantically if she had seen me watching her last night, or heard me fall. I calmed myself with the thought that if she had heard me slam my head against the wall last night, she would certainly have come to see if I was alright.

"Sure, sure," I stammered after my pensive pause.

I could hear her splashing water on her face as she talked. "Crazy night last night, huh? I ended up sleeping with that guy from the bar. Well, not 'sleeping' really, more like fucking. I sent him packing before he could do any sleeping. He was a jock, but sweet in his own way and a rather good lay…and you know I haven't gotten any since I came here, except for that girl freshman year. So, did you end up crashing at Emily's for a few hours before coming back?"

I dropped the soap. Before I could think about a response, I blurted, "Fara! What girl freshman year? When? How?"

"Oh, you know, it was just before you and I had gotten really close. I went to the Meow Mixer with a couple of chummy dykes from my 20th century American Art class, and I met this older chick, a grad student. Russian Literature. She was pretty keen on me. I got pretty high, and we went back to her place. Damned nice place it was, for a grad student budget. "

"So, you slept with her? What was it like?"

"Well, it was sex. Sex is sex is sex. I used to have a lot of it before I came here and wrapped myself up in a cocoon with you. Not that I mind, darling. You're all I need, really."

I could tell she was smiling as she said this. She meant it, I knew it. She didn't need anyone else but me. But why then? Why hadn't we been together if she was so flexible about her sexuality? My heart was beating fast. All I had to do was lead the conversation in that direction by asking her questions about her experience with the grad student. I could tell her about my own, newly discovered sexual openness. I could suggest…

Again, I had hesitated too long. She quickly said, " Well I'll see you in the room, babes. Do come and cuddle with me when you're done," and pranced out of the bathroom.

My heart flapped wildly in my chest as I absentmindedly scrubbed my body. Was it possible? It was possible. Possible! I could kiss her, I could touch her, I could feel her incredible, brown velvety skin against mine, she could writhe for me. My heart soared.

Doubt soon unsettled me. I realized that the fact that she had had at least one sexual experience with a girl didn't mean she would be open to one with me. Furthermore, in all of our cuddling sessions, she had never tried anything. Or had she? I considered that whisper of a kiss; our lips had brushed. And that one time, when my head rested against her chest, didn't she pull closer, her erect nipple grazing my lips through the cotton of her shirt? As her hands rubbed my back vigorously, then almost frantically, she had pulled me closer. Didn't our breathing quicken simultaneously with those exquisite pangs of near-pain? In that moment, I had felt what I think desire and love are supposed to be, that we could consume each other, that the need of each other was so great it obliterated consciousness. I realized that it had been the most erotic moment of my life.

And it was probably autoerotic. She was probably never aware of it. Probably or only possibly? I swore under my breath. I admitted to myself that I loved her. It didn't seem strange at all, even though I had never felt such strong sexual feelings towards a woman. And I decided that I would not cower before my feelings. The profound dismay I had felt last night as I watched her being fucked by that jock fueled me to take action. I rinsed my body, vigorously rubbed my body dry, threw on my terry cloth robe, and strode meaningfully into the bedroom.

She had gotten back into bed. "Lay down with me," she murmured from beneath the covers.

I nervously complied. We were both wearing only robes as we spooned. I could feel the hotness of my own breath deflected from the back of her brown neck. She snuggled in, and stroked my arm that rested on her stomach.

"Fara, I love you," I said quickly.

"I love you too," she replied automatically, as she always did.

This was it. I would take the plunge. No analyzing. I would say it, come what may.

"In all ways, you know…" I spat it out and waited, tense.

I felt her back stiffen against my breasts almost imperceptibly, then relax. Suddenly, she turned to face me. She stared into my eyes as we held each other, and I couldn't read what was in hers.

"I know," she said. She kissed my cheek. It burned like sex. She kissed my nose, then the side of my mouth. My breath quickened and my entire face tingled. Finally, her lips pressed against mine. My heart beating wildly, I returned it with my whole body. A flurry of rapid kisses turned into a languorous kiss, the softest kiss I'd ever had. Our tongues lapped timidly at one another, our lips were fused into a single undulating entity. My hands found her silky black hair and pushed her mouth further into mine.

She pressed her body against mine and rubbed her pelvis against mine. Our tongues wrestled more frantically, I pulled back slightly to suck her bottom lip, tenderly nipping at the plump flesh between my lips. She moaned, and pushed her mouth against mine.

We writhed together and my self-consciousness about the situation was obliterated. I could only feel this, tasting her sweet tongue and lips, feeling our bodies moving tightly together. She moaned again into my mouth. I ran one of my hands down her back, and up around her slim waist. She moved more frantically, and my fingers found the opening in the folds of her silk robe.

My hand blazed across her skin until it came to that perky mound and the bud of flesh that adorned it. I circled it with a fingertip, then squeezed it and rubbed it in between my fingers. Her response was intense, she moaned louder into my mouth and grinded frantically against me. Her kiss slackened as she focused on the pleasure I was giving her by rubbing her nipple, and I took the opportunity to break away from the kiss. Pushing apart the robe, I bent to kiss her stomach and she turned onto her back as I straddled her.

Now both of my hands could feel her glorious breasts, as I kissed her naked body from the navel upwards. Finally, my tongue reached the underside of her breasts, and her entire body rose in response. I relocated my hands to her neck, and began licking, teasingly, towards her nipples. As my lips finally locked on her right nipple, I marveled at the sweetness of the taste. I flicked it rapidly with my tongue and she bucked wildly beneath me. Glancing up, I could see in the light of the new morning that her eyes were closed and her mouth stretched into an "O" shape as she moaned.

Still sucking her breast, I brought my hands down to the flat expanse of her stomach and stroked it teasingly. I traced her skin down to the incredibly soft skin of her inner thighs. But she was too hot to endure my teasing. She lifted her hips, frantically trying to make her pussy come into contact with my hand. Enjoying the softness of her skin too much, I let my hand move to clasp her firm, perky ass. She wiggled vigorously and moaned.

Finally, she grabbed my hand and guided it to her pussy. I laid my palm flat against the curling hair of her unshaven pussy and pressed into it deeply; I could feel her wetness squeezing out. She whimpered.

I had never done this before, and I hesitated for a moment. But I knew my own body, and I definitely knew how to get myself off. Again, I decided to take the plunge without thinking, literally this time. As I slid two fingers past her opening, she moaned meaningfully.

"Fuck me….oh, God! Yes, fuck me!" she said.

She felt too loose for my two fingers, probably from last night's fucking. I would show her that my hand could be better than any dumb jock's dick. Quickly, I withdrew my two fingers enough to allow me to slam four fingers into her sopping pussy.

"Yes! Fuck me!" she cried.

I rammed my hand back and forth, paying extra attention to her g-spot. She bucked wildly, and I was amazed at the effect I was inducing in her. I concentrated on my hand, I was inside of her, and I could feel her, all of her. The slippery walls of her pussy, the ridged surface of her g-spot, the smooth cervix that jutted from the bottom. Her pussy was making slurping noises as my hand pushed in and out of her. A faint, sweet and sour odor reached my nostrils. My own pussy quivered as I allowed myself to linger on the feeling and smell of her feminine insides. I kept moving my arm back and forth. Her response was incredible. She bucked wildly and her moans escalated.

"Oh, yes, baby, oh yeah…that's so good…ohhhh baby, it's so good, I can't believe it!"

Her response invigorated me, I couldn't imagine ever getting tired. I leaned on her, and let my body rock in rhythm with hers. Frantically I rubbed that secret spot. She whimpered and reached out blindly to grab my breast. She rubbed my nipple, and I could tell when the pleasure got really intense for her because she pinched it almost painfully. I could tell she was close to cumming.

I slowed down and brought my left hand to her clitoris. I rubbed it and squeezed it as I massaged her g-spot. She was definitely close to orgasm, I could feel the beginnings of the contractions. But using both hands was awkward. Impulsively, I brought my face down to her pussy and pressed it against her mound. I inhaled her scent; it wasn't as pungently spicy as my own, it was more like warm, most sourdough bread. I licked and sucked at her clit, occasionally pulling at it gently with my teeth, as I massaged her g-spot.

"Oh god….I'm cumming…yes…fuck me harder…I love you!"

I happily complied, thrusting my hand faster, making sure it rubbed her spot. Her pussy began to convulse around my hand, and she ground her pussy against my face, pushing it down with both of her hands. She mewled like a cat and lifted her whole body off the bed as the sensations coursed through her. Finally, she laid down, sweaty and tired. She pulled me up and held me lovingly. I had made her orgasm. I was so turned on, I felt little electric sparks throughout my body emanating from my wet pussy.

"God, I love fucking you're pussy," I said. She smiled.

"You were incredible. I can't believe I was your first."

"Fara, I think I'm queer," I said.

"I noticed," she said with a laugh.

"Is it normal that I feel this way, and I don't think it's a big deal? Because this just feels so natural to me," I asked.

"Anything is normal. Sex is sex is sex," she repeated. "But your initiation isn't complete," she added with a sly smile. She pushed me playfully onto my back and pulled apart my robe. I felt her eyes appraise my body with appreciation. She kissed my parted lips and pressed her body against mine. My heart fluttered, I hadn't really expected her to reciprocate.

Pulling back a bit, she clasped my breasts and then brought her face close, flicking my nipples with her little cat tongue. My whole body shuddered, I felt close to cumming right then. I yearned for her to envelop me with her softness. She trailed soft kisses and tantalizing little bites down my to my stomach. Frantically, I pushed her hands down to my own pussy, and when her fingers entered me, it was hot, wet bliss.

When she began to lick me, I bucked wildly. I moaned and tossed my head, biting on a pillow to keep from screaming. The feel of her soft black hair draped onto my stomach and hips as she sucked my clit pushed me over the edge. I came in record time, clasping my legs around her smooth, brown body. It was the most intense orgasm of my life.

Afterwards, we lay naked wrapped together, in a cocoon of softness I had never experienced with a man.

"You sure are easy to please," she said with a sly smile on her face.

"Oh, but I'm not pleased yet," I said as I sat up and flipped her onto her back.

We didn't go to class that day.