Continued from part 1…
It couldn't have been more than five seconds, after Brie's question, before I kissed her, her face framed by my hands. But in those quick seconds I processed the following:
Door number one was the "Stepford" existence of my two sisters and their respective broods; I don't fucking think so.
Door number two was to bow to conventional roles and continue with my faked orgasms with guys; I'm sorry, it just didn't happen for me with the men I've been with. Most were adequate lovers; some were well endowed, but no bingos except by my own hand. Been there, done that, and don't want to do it any longer.
Door number three; well, that was the unknown, wasn't it? What's the worse that could happen? You don't like it? Or is it that you might like it?
I am not 'queer'!
I placed my hands on her face, my fingertips feeling the heat of her skin, and drawing her to me, I kissed her; I kissed her for a deliciously long time, her mouth so wet, so warm, her tongue slithering into my opened mouth, sending fire to my crotch.
"No one has ever kissed me like that, no one," I said, staring into her captivating blue eyes; closing my eyes, I leaned forward and found her mouth again, open, warm, and waiting for my own. I leaned back against the couch, my hands pulling her with me. Her hand crept under my sweater, rubbing the swell of my breasts spilling over the top of my French bra.
Keeping her hand under my sweater, she broke off the kiss and suggested we enjoy the view from the hot tub for a bit.
"After all, you're spending the night aren't you? So let's enjoy this night since there's no rush, is there?" her mouth close to my face; her breath was intoxicating and warm, her hand under my bra now, her fingers tenderly tweaking my nipple.
"No, there's no rush, no rush at all," loving what her fingers were doing.
Brie kissed me, a short, sweet kiss; then standing, she took my hand in hers and I rose from the couch with her. I'm 5' 7" tall, and standing next to her, I had to look up to her face. Definitely at least 5' 10", I thought to myself, admiring her tall stature.
She fiddled with the controls for the hot tub; a small tub, four really good friends, I thought, but just right for two or three.
You're really going to try this?
I think I am.
And you're scared? Of what?
That I might like it?
"Follow me," she said to me, "While the tub's warming, we'll hang up our clothes, and I'm assuming that you're okay without a swimsuit?"
"I'm okay with that," I answered as she took my hand in hers, leading me upstairs to her bedroom loft space.
She handed me hangers; we both started taking our clothes off, my eyes watching eagerly as we took off our bras at the same time. Her breasts were as gorgeous as I had imagined in my masturbatory images, freckles sprinkled on their swell. They were firm, like mine, with little droop, her areolas and nipples, larger than my own a wee bit.
"What in the world?" I heard from her when I stepped out of my bikini briefs, her eyes staring at my bush. Walking closer, she pulled me into better light, and kneeling on one knee, she eyed my panther.
No, my pink panther; a tattoo of the 'Pink Panther' pushing a lawnmower across the top of my pubes, a bit of pubic hair left in front of the mower, a clean straight cut under the figure.
Looking up from my pubes to my face, her face was in a questioning look.
"Too much tequila one night when I was in college," answering her unasked query.
"It's adorable," she said, kissing it afterwards.
Snow had started falling when we returned to the tub; gently falling giant flakes, illuminated by the lights from the roof of her building, a most magical sight.
"Sit here, with me, facing the windows," Brie said.
I sat next to her, on the lowest seat, warm bubbling water up to our necks. She held my hand in hers as we relaxed against the seat-back, lost in the beauty falling outside of her windows. I turned and kissed her shoulder, her eyes turning to look down at me, as I looked up, placing small kisses on her shoulder, small cuddling kisses.
