Homecoming 47

Danielle was shocked when I told her that I was a lesbian.

I'd come back to my hometown, to settle my dad's estate after he died.

She was my closest friend, until I left for the big city and a career in publishing. I called her before the trip, about getting together.

Now we were in my room at the Star Motel, reminiscing about the "old days" when I told her about my sex life.

"I can't believe you're a lesbian, Linda" she said. "How did that happen?"

"It was easy. I think I always had a leaning in that direction."

"I never noticed."

"Hey, no big deal. What's been happening with you? Last I heard you were engaged to Tom what's his name?"

"We were married for three years, then he found a bitch who was better in bed!"

"That's a shame," I said. "Some guys are pricks!"

We got a bottle of Scotch at the liquor store across the road from the motel and brought it back. We weren't sleepy and wanted to keep talking. It seemed natural to hold her hand as we crossed the road.

When we got back to the room, I kissed her lightly on her lips and said, "Forget Tom. Life goes on."

When I kissed her, Danielle hesitated, then kissed me back.

"Let's drink to life," she said. "Open the bottle, and pour us a few drinks."

I sat at the table in the room, and she got comfortable on the bed as we drank Scotch and compared notes about what had happened since we last saw each other.

Finally, after two o'clock in the morning, I asked her if she wanted to go back home.

"Can I stay here?" she asked. "There's nothing to do at home."

I looked at her, spread out on the couch, with her skirt way up, and her legs exposed. "There's something here for you, honey."

She caught my meaning. "I'd love to see what you have for me."

I couldn't believe what she was saying!

I'd never intended making out with her, and she seemed to be inviting me to have sex. Did she mean it, or was it just the booze talking?

"Let's get serious," I said. "I want you so bad I can taste it. If you stay, I'm going to lick your breasts and suck on your nipples. Then, I'm going to eat your pussy. Have you ever been eaten by another woman?"

"No," she said. "But there's a first time for every thing. Everybody seems to talk about oral sex, but I've never tried it."

I lay down on the bed, next to her, and kissed her on the mouth. She moaned just a bit. Then I kissed her throat; she hesitated, then kissed my nipples, which were visible under my blouse. I hadn't worn a bra that day, maybe in anticipation of our meeting.

"Take off your skirt and panties," I said, "I'm so horny that I'm going to eat your pussy. What do you think of that?"

In a low voice she said, "Sounds good to me. What took you so long to get around to my cunt?"

We lay down next to each other on the bed, with my head on her crotch, and her head on mine.

I'd hoped for hot sex with her, but was still surprised that she was into my favorite way of having sex. As I explored her cunt with my tongue, she moaned.

"Its your turn" I whispered into her ear, kissing and nibbling her earlobe, then I pulled her head down to my crotch.

After thirty minutes of oral sex (more or less, but I wasn't keeping track of time), she asked a question:

"Was I as good as your lover in New York?"

"You were great," I said, "and I don't have lover waiting for me to get back."

That was the beginning of a very hot week, while I finished the paper work for my dad's estate.

In bed with her, I broke the news, "I have to get back to New York. My boss gave me time to come here, but I'm finished."

We made passionate love that night, until the sun rose. As I packed for the trip, she asked, "Can you put me up in New York? There's nothing here for me."

She moved in with me and is looking for a job in New York. In the meantime, I show her around New York, and we have sex as often as possible.

Life doesn't get much better.