The following weekend I moved in with Linda. It seemed the natural thing to do. After all, we had been lovers for a whole week. Seriously, it was an easy decision for me to make, despite our brief acquaintanceship. One might think, from reading my account of our first few nights, that I spend all the time getting spankings, or as I was later to learn, many other "kinky" activities. Actually, the kinky side of our relationship became, after we settled in, perhaps only thirty percent of our sexual side. Most of the time we had "normal" lesbian sex. Of course, I enjoy writing about the unusual "stuff," and I think this makes for more interesting reading.
Perhaps another interesting phenomena to our kinky side was the fact that Linda or I could easily switch roles. Although I was definitely more submissive than she was, it was not unusual to find her on the receiving end of a good, hard spanking (or worse) when we were in a mood to switch roles.
Our modeling jobs, where we had originally met, were few and far between, so we each found work as secretaries for local corporations. Our work hours pretty much coincided. Since I normally arrived home about 45 minutes before Linda did, I did most of the cooking. I enjoyed serving her a variety of meals and she loved the attention. We usually spent Fridays at home, making passionate love. Saturdays were often devoted to going to the movies, followed by dinner together in one of the fine local restaurants our town had to offer. Saturday nights, more often than not, provided an ideal time for kinky sex. It gave either us, depending on whom was on the receiving end, time to recuperate the following day.
More than once, I can remember sitting gingerly on a pillow all day to relieve the pain that remained from the night before. Linda was definitely harder on me than I was on her. In time, my threshold of pain increased to a point that I could tolerate even a really hard whipping or spanking without so much as flinching. Linda was more of a baby in this regard, so I often had to hold back far more than she did.
Friday nights were special. A chance to unwind from the workweek, to spend some face time (no pun intended) with each other, and to build upon our relationship. Arriving home extra early one Friday night in the middle of an excruciatingly hot August, I slipped out of my work clothes into shorts and a t- shirt. Nothing else. No bra or panties. Just me beneath my outer garments. Really ahead of myself that evening, I fixed a fantastic bowl of spaghetti and sausage, combined it with a nice garden salad, then found the sofa in the living room a convenient place to rest my weary bones.
Linda, of course, came home dressed to the nines. A rather tight red skirt, hemmed a few inches above the knee, and a white, button-down, short-sleeved blouse. The weather was much too hot for stockings or pantyhose, and her nicely tanned legs obviated the need for them. She wasn't big-breasted, but what she had up there filled her blouse quite nicely. Probably because of her shimmering red hair, she always looked nice when she complemented the hair with red clothes. She wore only minimal make-up. As usual, she was shiny and bright when she greeted me.
"Hey stranger! Something smells really good!"
"Ghetti and sausage," I said. It's all ready. Just have to heat it up in the microwave."
"Aren't you the lazy one!" she said, moving next to my reclining body.
"Got off early. Just relaxing."
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Oh, fine. Nothing special. I'm glad it's Friday."
She smiled, then leaned forward as I sat up far enough to permit a short, nondescript kiss. She straightened up, still standing next to me, hands on hips, legs slightly parted, looking down at me. She was sex personified, a pretty girl who could attract anyone she wanted.
All of a sudden, my Sapphic instincts, so long dormant, seemed to boil up. I stretched my hand out far enough to come to rest on the inside of Linda's right knee, just under the tight red skirt. Nonchalantly, I brushed the soft skin of the inside of her leg ever so lightly. Linda's cheeks flushed. Almost reflexively, she opened her legs a bit wider. The invitation was all too obvious. I slowly moved my hand, palm up, higher inside the parted legs, catching the hem of her skirt on my wrist in the process.
"Oh, Beth," she sighed, knowing where the journey of my hand was heading.
I watched the skirt move upward over my hand, revealing more and more of her long, lithe legs. Suddenly the trip ended, stopped by the presence of soft silk. I pressed my palm into the silk and Linda moaned softly.
"Bethβ¦ Bethβ¦ Bethβ¦" she said over and over.
Pressing even deeper into the "V" of Linda's opened legs, I felt her womanly moisture seep into the softness of the panty crotch. She swayed slightly over my hand as she cooed with pleasure. I was awed by her easy arousal. We stayed like that, my hand playing inside her skirt, for several sweet moments, just enjoying the closeness perhaps even more than the sexiness. My handβthereβseemed so natural.
I looked up at her for a moment. Her head was cocked to the side, eyes closed, mouth opened in an "O" shape. I flicked my middle finger over the area surrounding her vagina, circling it over the ever moistening panty crotch, and watched her cock her head back further and moan. I had the feeling she was putty in my hands. I was wrong.
Linda suddenly stepped back, her skirt falling into place, leaving my hand stretched out into thin air. She looked down at me, breathing deeply, her face filled with lust. "You are driving me crazy, you little stinker, and I am the one who is supposed to be teaching you."
"I think you've created a real monster," I said. "Oh, how I want you, Linda!"
She reached down and smoothed out her skirt, her face still flushed. "I have plans for you this evening, young lady."
She wanted to be in total control, and she was. Until I was ready, it was sex on her terms, not mine. And I accepted that. I moved my outstretched hand over my tummy and sank my head deeper into the cushion behind in. I felt so comfortable with her. I had never felt that way with anyone in my life. Linda suddenly moved toward me and eased herself next to me on the sofa, her hips at my waist. I had to squinch over slightly to accommodate her.
"So how was your day?" I asked, pretending that nothing had just occurred between us. Our eyes lingered on each others' as we talked.
"Well," she laughed, "I do believe Cheryl, the new girl in accounting, made a pass at me."
My eyes widened. "Isn't she the one you said was staring at you all the time?"
"Yup. Same one. Today she came by my desk, leaned over to look at some work I was doing, and stuck her boob right on my shoulder. Then she sort of rested her hand on my forearm. She didn't speak normally to me; it was more like a sexy whisper."
"And what did you do?"