As shocked as she was, Rachel could have sworn she heard the distinct cries of a woman in the throws of orgasm coming from an upstairs window. She was eager to see where it came from. When she looked she saw the flushed face of a female pulling away from a window.
Rachel turned back to fooling around with her friends, but couldn't get the woman's image out of her mind, or the cries of delight she'd heard. It had a mesmerising effect on her and she started to imagine lewd acts going on from behind those curtains.
It made her think. She had been brought up to appreciate meat and two veg. She'd had a series of steady boyfriends for so long she couldn't remember, but she'd always held a curiosity for that which lay beyond, though she'd never been seriously tempted until now. She was afraid to rise to the occasion in case she didn't enjoy it or ended up offending, or worse scaring off the other woman.
True - when she was younger she'd fooled around with other girls at sleepovers, but it amounted to nothing more than the innocent fumbling of teenage adolescents. Then she discovered boys or more to the point, their continuously erect, phallic symbols, and the male species was an altogether different proposition. They seemed obsessed with the idea of copulation and getting their end away. For Rachel, it was always going to be a passing phase as they never possessed the subtlety or tenderness she'd once experienced, and the thought of it continued to pique her curiosity, though she was the first to admit that hanging out with her female friends wasn't the same as hanging out with an intimate lover, but it was a start.
Now she was older, more wiser, and definitely more experienced, ever since she'd heard the orgasmic cries of that woman in the throws of her climax she'd been unconsciously rubbing up against her friends given every opportunity. A bit of harmless fun without attracting too much attention, or so she thought. As she did this her mind wandered back to the past. There was a time when men wouldn't leave her alone. She'd caught them on occasion staring at her rear. It was the source of embarrassment for her. She was very self-conscious of its size and how it protruded, and in her opinion it certainly didn't deserve the attention it received.
As she grew older her immature boyfriends' quick gropes turned into more demonstrative, but clumsy anal penetrations which turned out to be nothing but excruciatingly painful. It was quick in, quick out and then they became quite disinterested as soon as they'd spilt their seed. But as her various boyfriends became more experienced lovers the pain she once felt turned into a more pleasurable, even orgasmic experience even though they were quite neanderthal in their approach. She'd now go as far as to say that she received more pleasure from anal sex than she did virginally, and this was frustrating the male, female paradox running over her mind.
On the one hand, she enjoyed anal sex with men, on the other she longed for the intuitive touch and caress that only a woman could bring. So, she had to contend herself with the occasional rub against her friends in the pool, followed by a quick grip and grind when they were waste deep in water and she was sure no one was looking.
Women were feeling, sensuous, tactile creatures, and so her interest was steadily turning toward the need for a lesbian adventure, even if it meant forsaking good anal penetration.
