The Itch

I felt overcome, as though I’d stepped into a riptide that swept me out to sea, to drown in, what? Or like a skier quietly schussing down a gentle slope, suddenly overturned by an avalanche of, again, what?

That was The Itch, when it hit me.

I had been married for 2 years and 3 months, exactly, to a very nice man, Robert. I could see our lives going along in a pleasantly quiet way, nothing remarkably exciting, but also nothing remarkably painful. My childhood had been marked by constant fights between my parents, until finally my parents split up, and nothing was ever really the same after that, for me. I wanted to avoid that again in my life.

One of the quiet, unremarkable things that we’d do, would be to go see a movie every week. One week I’d choose the movie, the next Robert would. That week he chose “Resident Evil.” I rolled my eyes when Robert picked it out. It sounded like a slasher type horror movie, and I really preferred what Robert called “chick flicks.” I’ve always been very feminine. I’m 5’ 4” tall, weight (usually) 120 pounds, with 36C breasts, nice hips and ass, long, curly light blonde hair, a ‘cute’ face, and a generally perky nature. Robert calls me ‘his little cheerleader’.

We’ve had a pretty good sex life. Nothing exciting, but Robert always makes sure I cum, and I really enjoy him eating my pussy, sometimes more than being fucked. Anyway, back to the movie. Sure enough, it was full of action and adventure and scary monsters, which, honestly makes me doze off. I noticed though, that one of the characters was a latina named ‘Rain.’ She had some very interesting and alluring facial expressions as the movie went on, and I found myself watching the movie very closely when she was in a scene.

There was another female character, I didn’t catch her name because I wasn’t paying as much attention to her, but she was the lead, played by a pretty famous actress, and had blonde hair. I became more and more intrigued by the latina actress, and I felt like there was some kind of emotional communication occurring between the 2 female characters, but it was very subliminal. Still, it was intriguing and I watched their relationship develop. Finally, after a certain amount of unspoken tension had built up between them, the Anglo character, played by Milla Jovavich(I think), said something that absolutely floored me.

“I could kiss you, bitch!” she exclaimed after a dramatic moment in the movie, staring intently into ‘Rain’s’ eyes. I felt like that was just what was going to happen, and I thought my heart would leap out of my throat! Well, everything that happened in the movie after that was irrelevant to my experience, so I won’t ruin the movie for anyone, but for the rest of the night, I was thinking about those 2 women, and what might have happened between them.

I visualized them melting into a warm embrace, capped by a passionate kiss, and sometimes I’d think of myself as the ‘white bread’ anglo girl, and that the latina woman would take me in her arms. That night, after the movie, Robert and I made love again, and I couldn’t help but picture ‘Rain’ on top of me, and between my legs licking my wet pussy. “God, you’re really wet, Jesse,” Robert said. “Turned on by monsters?” I just pressed his mouth closer to my over sensitive cunt, and whispered quietly, “Lick me, Rain.”

The actress playing Rain is named Michelle Rodriguez, and I visited a few web sites to look at her picture. She’s really cute, but it wasn’t her looks so much that had an effect on me, but the way she acted in the movie. Really aggressive, self-confident, masterful (missterful?), in control. Dominant, I guess.

Over time, I became more and more infatuated with the scenario of a dominant latina woman taking me in hand. It was like an itch that I just couldn’t scratch, and I thought of it as “The Itch.” Finally, it got to the point that I felt like I had to do something about it. I only wanted to have the experience, whatever it might be. I didn’t want to change my life, or leave Robert, or anything like that. I knew that what I wanted would have to involve another woman, preferably latina, and that she’d have to want to be involved with a woman, mainly me. So, probably I should check out places where I could find a lesbian, or at least a bi girl or woman. I picked up a copy of the alternative weekly paper in my city, and in the personals section I could see there were a lot of women advertising for other women. I started looking at the ‘bi’ section, because I was afraid of what lesbians might be like, since I didn’t know any. Of course, I didn’t think I knew any bi women either, but at least if they sometimes liked men, they’d be more like me, and so, less strange and unfamiliar.

But there, I ran into a problem. Every single ad from a bi woman, said something about a boyfriend or husband wanting to watch, or participate. I knew there was no way I wanted to involve somebody else’s man, much less my own. I just wanted to meet a woman! So, I took a deep breath and checked out the ‘lesbian’ section. I guess I was too picky there, too, because I rejected most of those, too. Finally, I was left with only one.

“It read, “Latina SF, 23, in search of WF or HF, 18-25, for conversation, friendship and possibly fun. Should like a woman with a mind of her own,” and it gave a contact number. I read the ad over and over, trying to divine what each word by itself meant, then words in combination, then whole sentences, until I’d wrung as much meaning as I could from her words. I pictured her as being like Rain, and soon my itch became uncontrollable. I decided that I’d contact her, and see what developed. Her name was Mira, and in our brief initial telephone conversation, she sounded very nice.

We arranged to meet at a coffee house a few miles from my house, “The Daily Grind.” I knew there was no chance that Robert, or anyone we knew would be there, so I wouldn’t have to worry about being found out, and could just concentrate on The Itch. I arrived at the coffee house a few minutes early, and looking around, I didn’t see any singles, so I took a table to wait. A few minutes after I got there, before the waitress came over, the door opened and in walked a beautiful, black-haired woman. She paused inside the door, and assessed each table in turn. When at long last her eyes reached me, she smiled, a lovely smile, and strode over to me.

“Jesse?” she questioned. I smiled back at her, and nodded my head, perhaps too enthusiastically. She pulled out the chair next to me at the table, and bending down, gave me a small, but lingering, peck on the cheek. “I’m so happy to see you at last. I’ve been picturing you from the description you gave, and you’re even lovelier than you said.”

“And so are you!” I gushed. She sat, then, and we ordered our coffee. Our conversation flowed naturally, and soon I was at ease, as though talking to an old friend. As we talked, I looked at her features. Her glossy black hair was her crowning feature. It was long, and curled where it lay on her shoulders in large waves, like a panther might curl lazily into a tree branch after making a conquest. Her eyes were black, and slightly almond shaped. Her skin was slightly olive colored, darker than mine, and her complexion was perfect, smooth and flawless.

Her nose was strong and straight, and her nostrils flared whenever she made an important point in conversation. Her lips were so, so, tempting. Full, moist and sensual. Her teeth were white, straight and even. Her chin was strong, but not large. Her breasts were breath-taking to me, they looked to be about 40DD, but firm and high. I realized at that moment, gradually, how easily I was drawn into considering another woman as a sexual partner, and weighing in her sex as an attractive factor in my relationship with her. I found myself thinking about how her legs, her thighs and calves, looked under her business-like skirt. How her panties must cling to her muscular buttocks. Wondering whether her nipples would show through her bra when she was excited. Wondering how much hair she had around her pussy, or if she might be shaved down there.

Whether her pussy became visibly wet when she was touched by another woman. Wondering what it was she most liked to do with a woman, and whether I would like it as much, or more. Whether she would like to do the things I would learn to do, and whether she would do them for me. I found myself getting wet between my legs, and I was glad that I’d worn a skirt, too. It wouldn’t do to have a wet spot in the crotch of my pants, for all to see. Mira complimented me on my hair, which is cut short, to just covering my ears. She also told me that my blouse accented my blue eyes, and when she added, “it shows off your breasts so nicely,” I blushed.

She said that she was 23 as her ad had claimed, a grad student at the University, and that she was looking for a woman who could be a friend, or something more, but not a long term relationship. I told her that I was 23 also, and confessed that I am married, but that I was curious about having a relationship with a special kind of woman.

She smiled, and looking directly into my eyes, said softly, “And what would make a woman special for you, Jesse?” I looked down, as I felt that her eyes were boring into my soul, and said, “I, I don’t know for sure. I’d like a woman to show me what to do, to take charge of me, to let me just float and not be responsible. Is that pathetic, or what?” I blushed again.

“No, not at all,” Mira said, taking my hands, which had been busy tearing up a napkin, in hers. Her hands felt warm and strong. “You’d like to be shown what no one ever took the time to teach you before.” Apropos of nothing, she then said, “A woman is most beautiful when she’s being made love to.“ She said that as though it were a statement of fact, that needed no further discussion. I found myself nodding absently, absorbed more in the feel of her skin against mine, and loving it. I worked up the courage to look again into the deep pool of her eyes, and found her gaze to be as warm as her hands.

“Let’s go,” she said simply, and not waiting for a response, began to rise. We both stood then, and I saw that she was about 5 inches taller than me. It felt comfortable. I looked down at her hips, and they looked so feminine and full.

“Uh, okay,” I said. “Where are we going?”

“Back to my townhouse,” she replied briskly. All this time, she didn’t release my hand, and I felt a thrill that I was now holding hands with another woman, still a stranger to me. I hadn’t done that since I was a little girl, but now it was all different. We walked out of the coffee house, and when we got to the door, she brought her arm around my back to open it for me, brushing her hand along my back.

“She’s copping a feel!” I giggled to myself. I looked up at her and smiled, our faces briefly approaching, then reluctantly pulling away. We walked out, and it was then I felt her hand discreetly on my ass, guiding me in a particular direction. I didn’t know if I should jump from her touch, or not make any reaction, or press back against her hand. I decided then that I should just respond as my body and heart wanted me to. I pressed back against her hand, and felt an electric thrill all through my lower body when she briefly, and gently squeezed my bottom.

“My car’s over there. Did you lock yours?” she asked. I nodded, unable to speak, and followed her over to her Lexus. She opened the passenger door for me, something no one, including Robert, had done in a long time. She got in on the driver’s side, and as she started the car, she put on a pair of black leather driving gloves.

I said, “Those are beautiful gloves, Mira.”

She smiled at me and said, “I adore the feel of leather, but only in small doses. By the way, if you’re wondering how a grad student can afford a Lexus and a townhouse, my father’s very rich, and very indulgent of his only daughter.” I laughed, and let my head fall back against the headrest.

“You’re very beautiful, Jesse,” Mira said, taking her eyes off the road briefly. “I can’t wait to see you become even more beautiful.” That hit me in my pussy. The realization that Mira was going to make love to me, and that I would, what? I didn’t know, but I knew that I would find out. I brushed my skirt over my thighs, as though to straighten out invisible wrinkles, but it actually was to discreetly brush across my clit, as the tension in my being was unbearable. Mira watched me, but didn’t say anything.

We arrived at her townhouse, in a very nice part of town. I decided to wait in my seat after she parked. Mira came around and opened my door. As I rose up from the seat, Mira stayed stationary by the door pillar, so that my face came within inches of hers as I rose to a standing position. When I got to my standing height, her face moved closer to mine, but this time there was no pulling away. I felt her warm breath on my lips, and smelled the intoxicating fragrance of her perfume filling my nostrils, before I felt the touch of her soft lips against mine. Her lips perfectly molded to mine, and as I moaned from the unexpected pleasure of her taste and feel, her soft tongue quickly darted into my mouth, then just as quickly left.

I melted into her embrace as her arm went around my shoulders, both to support me and pull me hard against her. Her warm breasts crushed against mine, and I swam in the tide of passion that crashed over me. I felt as though she were surrounding me, and absorbing me, shocking me with little jolts of lightning she kept inside her, somewhere. I didn’t want to leave her tender embrace, but, much too quickly she ended our brief kiss and our joining, and, taking my hand again, led me up the stairs to her front door, which was beautifully oaken, with a wreath of dried herbs and flowers centered in the full, leaded glass insert. I could smell a faint scent of heather.

She unlocked the door, and pulled me in behind her. Slamming the door shut, she pressed her body against me, pinning me against the glass of the door. She pressed her lips against mine again, and this time, when her tongue penetrated past my submissive lips into my mouth, it stayed there, caressing my gums, teeth and tongue with hers. Her hands went to my beautiful blue silk blouse, and she quickly unbuttoned my blouse, working her way down in record time. With my blouse open, her hands went to my breasts, encased inside my bra, kneading and caressing them through the satiny fabric.

My nipples were hard and erect, and her pinching them, I knew, if anything, would make them harder. So, I moaned into her mouth, “Pinch my nipples, baby, pinch me hard. I want to feel you on me.” I was shocked that these words were coming out of my mouth, but she was in total control of me. I felt like she had projected them into my brain, except that it was my pussy that was doing the thinking now. Mira lifted up my bra over my breasts, so that my firm tits were now in her warm, smooth hands. She returned to pinching my pink nipples, and leaned over to suck one into her mouth.

I loved the tongue bath she was giving my hard, almost painful nipples, and my hand on the back of her head pressed her harder and closer onto my breasts. While her mouth was alternately sucking and then blowing on each of my full breasts, she reached around behind me to unfasten my bra, which soon dropped to the floor. Mira then reached up and pulled my blouse halfway off my shoulders, and began kissing and licking my smooth, creamy shoulders, while her hands both cupped, then caressed my round ass cheeks through the fabric of my skirt. My blouse fluttered to the floor. Mira didn’t slow down one bit, as her hands slid inside the waistband of my skirt and my panties, to cup my ass, her hands directly against my skin.

I’d never felt anything so exciting in my whole life. Another woman’s hands caressing my most private areas, and there was no doubt that Mira was going to fuck me, one way or another. All I could do was help her to fuck me. I moved away from the door a few inches, hoping that she would pull down my skirt. Mira quickly took the hint, and my skirt lay on the floor near my bra. Now I was clad only in my white satin panties. Mira’s hand invaded the front of my panties, and her middle finger gently stroked my sopping wet cunt. I moaned in her ear, “Please, Mira, fuck me with your big, hard finger. Please, baby.”

Mira thrust her finger into my hole, making me cum in large, gasping shudders. She stroked the tip of her finger across my sensitive clitoris, making me cum again, and again, and finally, again. I slumped against Mira’s strong arm, as she slowed her stroking, and she directed her wet finger to my pussy lips, around and around. She slowly slid my panties off my smooth, round ass cheeks, and the panties ended up inside my skirt on the floor. She pushed me hard, then, against the door again and I gasped. Her finger slid again, this time more slowly, up inside me, teasing and torturing me.

I gasped again, this time in shock, when we heard a knocking at the door.

“Mailman, got a registered letter,” a voice shouted from the other side of the glass.

Mira acted as though she hadn’t heard. Her finger still stroked in and out of my cunt, and though the presence of the mailman on the other side of the door certainly distracted me, I gasped and moaned, and writhed against the glass of the door.

“Mira, don’t, there’s a -” I started to say, but her thumb rubbing against my hard clit caused my words to turn to babbling. I can only imagine what the mailman thought, with the clear sounds of a woman in sexual ecstasy and her body squirming against the glass right in front of him. I’m sure he could clearly see my naked body through the cloudy glass, so it’s not too surprising that he put it together.

“Uhh, I guess you’re, uh, busy, so I’ll just, uh, bring it over tomorrow,” he said through the door. I could hear him chuckling as he walked away. I didn’t really care, I just wanted to feel more of Mira on me. Mira got on her knees in front of me, and then the real ecstasy started for me. She used her hands to separate my vaginal lips, and then brought her hot mouth to my pussy. It felt as though her tongue was at least two feet long, and powered by a vibrating engine. Alternating between sliding her tongue deep inside my dripping pussy, and stroking it hard and fast across my clit, I came countless times. When she slid one finger inside my tight ass hole while licking me, she started a whole new round of cumming. Honestly, I believe I came dozens of time against Mira’s front door.

Mira then got back on her feet, and bringing her mouth to my ear, whispered, “How was that baby, did you enjoy it?” I giggled weakly, and licked her ear, then whispered, “Yes, sweetheart, that was the nicest fuck I’ve ever had.”

Mira stepped back to look at me, smirked, and said, “You haven’t been fucked yet, baby. That was just foreplay.” With that, she took my hand again and led me to her bedroom. She led me to the king size bed, and lay me down, naked on top of the rose floral comforter covering it. I lay back, and looked up at Mira. She stepped into the middle of the room, and began stripping for me. She slowly took off her blouse, cupping and caressing her breasts as she’d done mine. She unsnapped the front snap on her bra, and released her full, lush breasts from their fabric prison, pinching her nipples. I, too, found my hands on my breasts, mimicking her actions on myself.

Mira unsnapped the waistband on her skirt, and when it dropped to the floor, I saw she was wearing only panties, in an unfamiliar fabric. A light yellow in color, they weren’t frilly or lacy as I’d expected. She ran her fingers along the crotch of the panties, and when she lifted up the fabric between her thigh and her pussy, right where she’d have a bikini cut, I saw a little trickle of liquid run out the panty opening. She scooped it up with her finger, and brought it to my mouth. I sniffed it, and didn’t recognize the aroma. Then it struck me, it was Mira’s lubricant. Her fucking me had made her wet, and cum too.