There were five of us in the room, each of us sexy in their own way. Some of us had large breasts, some of us smaller. One of the girls had hardly any at all, and she was the sexiest one there.
Maybe because she was naked on the couch having her pussy eaten. Her name was Tara, and she was pulling the other girl into her perfectly trimmed mound and thrusting at her mouth hard. She grunted and rubbed her nipples, rushing towards her orgasm.
I had already flung my black thongs into to the corner and was reclining against a chair, gently rubbing my own pussy that was wet with anticipation. None of us had prepared for this; a slumber party at Ashley's and Truth or Dare.
Having her pussy eaten was Tara's dare. The lucky girl eating it was a volunteer. I saw her slip a few fingers in Tara's pussy and begin thrusting. Tara moaned her encouragement. I reached down and rubbed my clit, spreading my lips wide and dipping into my pussy. Marie, the only girl who had yet to take her panties off was watching so I turned my pussy towards her and kept at it.
I couldn't take her looking at me anymore and I crawled to her, reaching out and grabbing her white cotton panties and –
Rrrringgg!
Dammit! I lost my concentration!
I let the machine answer the phone and got up from my bed and wandered into the office, intent on finding something sultry so that I don't have to think.
Too bad I'm so damn picky.
It needs to be perfect.
Not too over done, not too cliché.
It's not often that I browse the selections, looking for credible submissions to inspire me, and when I do, my search often becomes a quest or a crusade to find that perfect storyteller, the one who gives me the original images that fill up my head, makes we want to...
The weather is deteriorating and I ignore the predictions of increasing thunderstorm intensity and log on to start my search – from the index I choose Lesbian Sex. My favorite.
A thousand titles with the lesbian buzzwords of "High School" and "Sorority." Or the popular "first-time." A few "stewardess'," a couple "mom's" and "mother's," even a "sisters." Most of the titles have proper names in them, most of those names ending in the letter 'A' in an attempt to sound seductive and sexy like "Talia's Sultry Weekend" or "Anna Becomes a Slave."
Most involve a chance encounter, an innocent brush that leads to exploration and discovery. Or the two friends who dare each other and then realize that they've had a crush on each other their whole lives. I also like the seduction plot, the younger, innocent girl being taken advantage of by the more experienced lesbian (often bisexual) and then discovering that she liked it. Masturbation is a common instigator, too. Either the protagonist walks in on someone, is walked in on, or is aroused by secretly witnessing someone, etc.
Not without merit, but typical. I'm getting more aroused and want it bad and in my desperation, I let the website's story spinner choose one for me at random and I hope.
"Weekend of Desire." I hit the back button on my browser and start over. I read the title:
"A Vampire's Forgotten Lust."
Gothic is good and perfect for a gloomy night like tonight. I read on:
Her hair was like midnight, burning thin black lines across her pale undead flesh. Her breasts hung gently, their small size like the distant moon gleaming in the twilight of ancient rhythms.
What? I continue, much to my own dismay.
She steps out of the shadow that was partially obscuring her and I see her in all her ethereal glory. Her skin is like porcelain and bears no imperfection, except for the occasional blue vein that shows through. Her form is not even disrupted by the expected dark triangle of nether-hair, helpful to point the way to the sweet salvation of my insatiable lust. I look closer and her mons almost sways as she walks toward me, it glistens with anticipation of the fated union with my own gate of desire.
That's it. I press the back button and start my search over. I think I'll look without the computer helping. I sample a few others, turning them down for gross mutilations of the human language and the use of such non-sexy words as "cunny", "slash", and "sex." Talk about an irrational pet peeve. I actually read this sentence: "
She moved her hand down and began to rub my sex
." That almost killed my quest right there, but my own pleasure-seeking fervor was stronger than any grammatical error.
I search again.
"Jenna and Salina: More than friends?" Next.
"Barbara at the Beach." No.
"Lessons." Could be something here. Then I see the author's login name is
JimmysGiantDong.
Nothing worse than a guy trying to describe what two women do to each other while having sex. It is certainly within the realm of possibility that a man can have that type of understanding, but I would like more than the textual description of the last porno flick this guy saw.
I search again, eventually selecting "My First Day in College" because I need to; my body is demanding it. If there is a cliché that is guaranteed to make my day, it's the innocent realism of collegiate life in the dorm rooms, and the ever-present girl-talk-in-panties scene. I make myself comfortable and set my mouse to auto-scroll so I can enjoy the benefit of both hands.
The story begins:
State University is a busy place. The campus is teaming
(sic)
with life and activity and girls. You never thought that you would be here, in school to see such magnificent.
(sic)
You race to your room and your wet you can barely contain your orgasm as you ride up the elevator.
You flop down on you bed and jam four fingers in your twat, the squishing sound makes you come again and again.
That's it! I could handle the second-person perspective and even the dreadful spelling errors, but to think that any writer could assume that a sound emanating from a moistened vagina is enough to inspire an orgasm "again and again" is too much.
Perhaps I should write my own? Eroticist pleasure thyself? Too late now: I'm already in overdrive. I need to find something. The lights flicker and I wonder about my computer and the effects lightning will have on it. I shrug it off and continue my search.
"Kara's New Friend." Whatever. I'll read it anyway.
Her name was Tabitha, but I called her Tabby, because she was my little cat in so many ways. She liked to lick my pussy and keep it clean and she purred when she fingered my snatch.
We were a funny pair; she being beautiful and me being the typical dyke.
Dammit! I cannot possible enjoy a story where one of the main characters in a knuckle-dragging, jack-booted she-male. Sorry. Bless you,
PhatGrrrl69
, for filling someone else's fetish, but not mine.
I prepare to search again and there is a knock at my door. Probably a neighbor wanting a flashlight in case the power goes out. I put on a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt and walk to the door, hoping to hide any outward appearance of the night's activities. Impatiently, they knock again before I get there.
I open then door and am surprised by my visitor. She is a young woman, about my age but slightly taller with a build that suggests athletics of some sort. Her hair is darker than is should be, plastered to her head from the torrent of rain she must have walked through. Her make-up had run a bit, leaving her with "raccoon-eyes" that had started to expand down her face. I noticed that she did not have the benefit of a raincoat or jacket and the rain had soaked her completely. She shivered uncontrollably as she hugged herself to keep warm. I gamble and stole a glance at her breasts. They pressed unhindered against her shirt, their roundness a aesthetic compliment to their perkiness and the nipples easily creating tiny bulges against the thin material. The rain had made the white shirt almost see-through and her areolas were visible in the dim porch light. I was guessing that these were not her most favorable conditions, but the effect was still stunning.
"Hi," she said, her voice high-toned and musical. "Can I borrow your phone?"
"Of course," I responded, stepping back to let her in. "Let me get you a towel." I returned with the towels and handed them to her. She quickly wrapped one around her shoulders and used the other one to dry her hair.
"Thank you so much," she said. "I'm sorry to bother you."