I had a slight cold and a blocked nose. Not my idea of a romantic first time with a girl, but what can you do? I was insistent on never following female stereotypes anyway β about how we all have at least one lesbian encounter in our early twenties, or even high school years. I was adamant that I knew who I was, and I'd never slobber all over another girl. I was straight, and happy, and I'd never flash my tits to a chick for the attention of a guy. I was so sure of that, so I didn't care for my cold. But once I got a few cups of goon in me, the tune I sung to myself changed real quick.
Even with my nose clogged I could still smell her. The scent was so potent, musky almost, but more sweet than savory; such is the case with men. Yet it didn't put me off like I was so sure it would. It reminded me of my weird habit of sniffing my armpits and kind of enjoying it.
I touched her wet spot and heard her gasp softly. Man, she was sensitive. A lot more sensitive than I was. The damp area was cold, but at my touch, she gushed again, coating her panties in a new, warm layer of juice. The fact it was cold to begin with intrigued me; it meant she'd been turned on for a while now. So she was turned on when I was talking to her, all drunken, sloppy and uninhibited, with my arm around her shoulders and playing with her cropped hair. Yup, she'd been creaming herself when I was backing up into one of the guest rooms of her house as the party raged on downstairs. She'd been wet and ready for me, as she closed the door behind her, locked it with a little 'click' and gave me that hungry look up through her dark eyelashes. I blushed at the indirect compliment her body was flattering me with.
I wasn't brave enough to slip her undies off yet. I was worried the sight of a cunt right in my face might just make me bolt out of the room. Hell I was having trouble even thinking the word 'cunt'. So instead, I tentatively pressed my tongue into the dark patch on her grey lace, until I felt my mouth-muscle go between her labia. Her thighs squeezed my head briefly, as I poked and prodded my tongue at her cunt through the fabric.
"Oh!...Oh, that feels good, Roxy. You're doing good, babe...!" She purred.
I almost laughed when she said my fake name, but I was able to stop myself. It helped that my mouth was busy.
She didn't have a particularly strong taste, maybe a little musky. A bit gamey. Though that may be purely the taste of her underwear. I suddenly realised she'd been walking around in these all day. Soaking them with sweat and juices, and now I was lapping at her most private area through such a filthy bit of cloth.
Man, I must be really messed up to be getting off on this, but I am. My own pussy was opening up. It felt so hot, I could feel a bass thumping heart-beat in my groin. Despite my rush of confidence and sexiness, I was still a bit self-conscious. I didn't know if what I was doing was right or not β didn't know if she was really feeling it or if she was just pretending to make me feel better about myself...
As we both got increasingly more horny, however, I started rubbing my clit through the fabric of my own underwear. That really prickled my senses, and squelched down some of my insecurities. It also brought me halfway to a bright idea.
I started mimicking the movement of my tongue to the fingers on myself. It might not be the most fail-safe maneuver, but it at least gave me an idea of what my technique felt like.