This is a memory of my first time with a good friend. It happened in the 1980s in a small town in California.
The first time I was with another girl was my senior year in high school, just after I'd turned 18. I was a bit of a late bloomer but by my senior year I'd finally started to fill out, get noticed by boys, and, I suppose, give myself permission to be interested in sex.
My boobs were small, an A cup at best for most of my first three years but by my senior year they'd grown into a solid B and my hips started to expand and I felt more comfortable in my own skin. I stood about 5'5 with shoulder length, dark brown hair. I was an athlete and in good shape and as my body matured, it was nice to feel like I fit in a bit more and that made me less self-conscious.
I learned how to masturbate just after my 18th birthday. I know—what took me so long! I guess I'd played around with myself before but had no clue what I was doing nor of what the ultimate outcome was supposed to be. My nipples have always been really sensitive and I can still remember the tingle that pinching them would give the rest of my body.
I eventually moved on to more than just my fingers and experimented with things like the back end of my hair brush and even the tip of a small banana one or twice. (I even once put a close pin on my nipples—which was also the time that I started to learn and get turned on at the fine line between pleasure and pain, but that's another story!).
Caroline and I had been friends for a few months when we started hanging out more often and doing regular sleepovers. We'd met on the soccer team sophomore year but didn't really become friends until we both became starters in our final year.
Also 18, she was short and really athletic, a fast runner with compact legs that led up to a tight butt that helped her to look amazing in soccer shorts and her bikini bottoms. Her chest was about the same size as mine (or maybe a bit bigger with a small C cup) and, also like me, she wore her dark hair down to her shoulders.
I guess you could describe both of us as "Plain Janes"—cute and petite brunettes with dark skin and brown eyes. We were 'good girls' who both did well in school and, at least most of the time, we did our best to follow the rules.
Neither of us were big drinkers and we spent a lot of weekends watching movies, eating yummy food, and talking about boys. We'd both kissed a few and had gone as far as third base but we were both virgins and didn't feel any pressure to change that.
And after all these years, I can remember the question she asked that started it all.
"Do you ever think about giving someone a blowjob?" Caroline said one night after watching a movie while we lay in my full-sized bed together.
"I guess sometimes," I answered back. "I almost gave Andy one in his car once but I chickened out. Why, do you?"
"I totally do," she said almost immediately, with a sigh that was wrapped in a devious little smile. "I don't know why...something about it just makes me want to do it."
"I'd rather have a boy eat me out than me give him a blowjob," I said to her.
"Yea, I like that thought, too," she said, "but I really want to try it...geez I'm a slut!" she said laughing.
"Nooo, I get it," I said to her, laughing back. "I liked giving Andy a hand-job and I totally wanted to put it in my mouth just to see what it was like but I just didn't have the guts to lean over and do it."
"Well if only you did have the guts you could tell me what it was actually like!" she laughed as she slapped her hand down on top of my comforter.
We laughed for another minute but kept talking about blowjobs and which boys we'd be willing to give one to and I remember suddenly noticing that our legs were touching under the sheets, though they had been since we got into the bed.
After about a minute of silence, it was my turn to ask a question.
"Do you masturbate?" I said, somewhat quietly to her.
"No. I mean, not really. Do you?"
"Sometimes," I said back to her, only slightly embarrassed. "I get so horny sometimes that it's hard not to...sometimes I just can't help it."
"I know," said Caroline. "And I'm lying...I totally do it, like, a lot."
"Omygod I do it all the time!" I said to her, somewhat relieved that I wasn't the only one, as we laughed again together in that bed.
It was quiet again for a minute and I again noticed the warmth of her skin on my leg and felt her hips shift on the bed.
"What do you think about when you do it?" she asked me quietly, as we both continued to look at the ceiling that was lit up with the rest of my room by the light that I'd left on in the adjoining bathroom.
"Blowjobs!" I said as we both started laughing.
"Seriously," Caroline giggled. "What do you think about?"
"I don't know," I answered. "Hands on me, I guess. Sometimes I think about what it'd be like to have sex. Sometimes I think about getting eaten out. Just the idea of being naked with someone is usually where it starts in my head. What do you think about?"
"The same stuff. I've liked it when I had my nipples sucked and I liked it when I've been fingered before. And, yes, the idea of giving someone a blowjob gets me going, too."
Almost all of the sudden I noticed that I was getting turned on and that I was starting to get wet. I was both embarrassed and excited with that realization.
"OK so if we keep talking about this stuff I'm going to get more and more horny," I announced in a somewhat sarcastic voice.
"Is that bad?" she said to me, turning her head away from the ceiling and towards me.
"No it's not bad I just may have to put on new panties after a while," I said to her with a laugh.
"I'm wet too, if it makes you feel any better," she said through her grin.
"Ha!" I responded. And I'm only a little bit wet!"
"Then what if I told you that Andy was ready to suck your nipples and put his tongue all over them and kiss your neck and your stomach and then eat you out!"
"OK, definitely wetter now...what are you trying to do to me?" I said with a giggle.
"Well you said you were only a little wet so I was just trying to help," she said with a smile of her own and a told-you-so tone.
