My husband, James, recently submitted a story about our first home and the spectacular threesome we shared with our Realtor and friend, Amanda. That was one of the most erotic, most memorable nights of my life, and I think James did a great job retelling the events that took place. But while reading the story, I noticed one very minor mistake, one he didn't know he was making.
While my husband watched me kiss Amanda's sweet thighs and lick her wet lips, he was thinking I was being with a woman for the first time. What my husband doesn't know is that it wasn't the first time I shared a kiss with another female. (It was, however, the first time I shared a sexual moment with Amanda, and I must admit, her soft lips, her gentle touch, and oh God, her lovely pussy, are almost sinful, the works of incredible dreams and fantasies that I've imagined many times when alone at night.) In fact, that special night would probably never have happened if it weren't for my prior experiences with other women.
You see, I was pretty shy growing up, and I never really felt comfortable around boys. In high school, Amanda always told me guys found me attractive. She tried to tell me that my "subtle curves and tight body" made the guys stare, and that my "silky brown hair and clear blue eyes" made the other girls jealous. But I didn't buy it and stayed in my shell while Amanda went on dates and learned the joys that can only be shared with a man.
So when I moved to the dorms in college (Colorado State University for those that are interested), I was still shy, still a virgin, and definitely still nervous around men. But I was lucky enough to have a roommate that would help change all that.
Her name was Samantha, or Sam for short. She was from Georgia and had the cutest southern accent that everyone adored. Being a Southern Belle, she wasn't used to the cold, but at the same time, she couldn't accept having her legs covered; that's why she was constantly wearing a huge sweatshirt and tattered jean-shorts, a combination that was somehow comfortable and sexy at the same time.
Although she looked cute in her outfit, it didn't really do her body justice because the big sweatshirt all but hid her essentials. Not that her chest was so much bigger than mine (I remember her as a 34C, while I'm a 34B), but she definitely had a better body. At least I felt she did. Sometimes I watched her dress, wishing I had that firm stomach and those rounded breasts. And I always tried to imitate her diet and her workout routine. But she kept saying, "Anna, working out and not eating isn't going to give you bigger tits."
But larger boobs wasn't all that she had on me. She was outgoing, and I was jealous. She always grabbed the guys' attention and was asked out continually. She knew I wanted to go out more, and she said I'd have no problem picking up guys if I just opened up a little. Lighten up. One day, when she saw a lecture wouldn't work, she took the matter into her own hands and set me up with a her friend, Brian, a Sophomore I had met once earlier in the year, one that I had mentioned to Sam as being incredibly cute.
As the date grew closer, I admitted to Sam that I was nervous. I didn't know how to dance, and that's what we were planning on doing. And what if he tried to kiss me afterward? Or invited me to his place? I was a wreck. So the night before the date, my savior once again stepped in.
"You're driving me crazy, Anna," she said as she crawled into bed. "You'll be fine."
"But what do I do? I don't know how to dance," I said, pacing around in my nightie.
"Fine," she said, getting back out of bed, slipping on socks, and pulling a sweatshirt over her head. "I'll show you how to dance, will that make you happy?"
I just smiled as she moved to the stereo and put on a mix of slow songs. She stepped closer and told me she would be Brian and that I should just follow her lead. For the first few songs, I just giggled, nervous even with my friend.
"Okay, this isn't working. Let's try a little different style." With that, she grabbed my hands and put them around her neck, then she placed her arms around my waist, holding me gently. "Just sway and move your feet slowly, turning to the music."
Being closer to her helped ease the giggles, and soon I was letting myself go with the music. "That's better," she said. "Nothing to it."
When the next song started, instead of stopping, my roommate pulled me closer to her, and we snuggled as we danced. I moved my arms to fit around her side, and we tightened up even more when I lay my head on her shoulder. "This is nice," I said. It was relaxing. I was being carried away by the music, letting Sam take me away from my worries about the coming date with Brian.