And then they touched every so lightly. She stared back at me with the same fears that would tear my heart. It was a mirrored look that convinced me this was the right thing to do. My lips pressed a little harder, enjoying the pillowy feel of her lips against mine. She pressed back. My tongue, all on its own, parted my lips and probed ever so gently outside my mouth and found the tip of hers already there to meet mine.
The moment my tongue touched hers I was lost. Our mouths pressed harder, and our tongues grew bolder. Her arms around my lower back pulled me tighter, and I soon had my hands around her upper back, pulling her in. Pressing her body against mine. Our lips pursed and softened and guided our tongues and then I was inside her mouth. My tongue brushed her teeth and found the hard upper palate. Her tongue danced in my mouth, and I could taste her sweet, wine drenched mouth.
We necked, standing just inside my bedroom. I was making noises without trying to. They just escaped me. It had been far too long since I had been intimate with anyone. Far too long, but my body remembered. Craved it. Needed it. My hands stroked her back, and hers did the same to mine. I was making out with a woman. A gorgeous, vibrant, Asian woman.
She broke off the kiss and looked up at me and licked her lips. “Wow. That was amazing.”
“I want you,” I whispered.
“I want you,” she replied.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “This is a huge first for me.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“Very.”
“We can wait.”
“I don’t think I can, Jennifer.”
“God, me either.”
And we kissed again.
It didn’t take long. She tugged on my dress, and I quickly pulled it off my shoulders. I pulled at hers and it pooled at her feet beside mine. We only stopped kissing to get undressed, one item at a time. Her hands fumbled with my bra clasp, and I fumbled with hers. It’s backwards undoing someone else’s bra, and we laughed into our mouths as we failed and tried again.
Our bras slipped off our shoulders and fell to the floor, and together we mashed our breasts against one another and moaned at the wonderful feeling. Her hands found the waistband of my panties and I found hers. We pushed them down but could only reach so far. We stepped away, glancing at our hanging breasts as we bent to remove our panties. I caught a glimpse of a black-haired trimmed pussy and then with horror realised mine must look like a blonde jungle.
Before I could think we were back together, kissing, tongues exploring, hands fondling our backs, moving lower to cup firm ass cheeks, squeezing and groping, each moaning the pleasure into the other’s mouth.
I couldn’t get enough air, I sucked it in past her mouth and tongue and she did the same. We broke, breathing heavy, and stared at each other’s flushed faces. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to my bed. We collapsed in the middle, on our sides and squirmed together, relishing in the feel of each other’s naked female bodies pressed together.
We kissed for a long, long, time. Hands touched only backs, shoulders, necks, hair, lower backs, and then our ass cheeks. I gripped her ass and pulled the firm, round, cheeks apart. My hand crossed over her buttocks, and I felt the heat coming from between her legs. I was wetter than I ever remembered being. My whole body cried out for this. Needed this. Wanted this.
Tears leaked from our eyes as we stared into each other’s soul. I had never been this close to another person and so completely in tune with what they needed and how. There was no mystery other than how she felt compared to my own body. But I was a woman and so was she. We understood each other, and it was glorious. I never had a moment like this with my husband. I didn’t think it was possible to have this with a man and I felt a small sadness.
We didn’t rush anything. We took our time, careful not to cross any imagined lines. We left room for the other to pull away and stop it. But neither of us did. It just took time.
She was the first to touch our pussies. I felt her hand slide down my stomach, and I flinched. She stopped, and I moaned and shook my head and her hand resumed. I held my breath and pressed my lips harder against hers. I wanted it so bad. Her fingers touched my pubic hairs and flowed through them like a comb, sinking lower and over my mons. Her finger slipped past my clitoris, and I moaned in frustration and then…
I broke our kiss and moaned deeply as her fingers slipped over my outer lips. She was so light in touch and the feeling was out of this world. My husband had never touched me so intimately. She was so completely aware of how to touch me. Jennifer watched my face, and I watched her back through half-lidded eyes. Her middle finger slipped past my outer lips and pressed inside. No woman had ever touched me there. It was perfect. My senses of hearing, taste, and smell seemed overly heightened.
My own hand slid down her body as she continued to tease my outer lips and just inside. Light feathery touches that burned deep inside me. My hand crossed her flat, tone stomach and I felt the little patch of hair, left on her mons. I spread my fingers and avoided her clitoris as she had done with me. I smiled at her scowl and slipped my fingers down over her outer lips and marvelled at the smooth, shaved skin. I pressed her lips together and she moaned, never breaking eye contact.
I was loving this. I was touching another woman in her most private area, and she was loving what I was doing to her. I felt powerful. Strong. Vibrant. With a shock I realised I felt more like a woman than I ever had during my entire life. This was perfect. My whole soul was singing, happy to have discovered a rich secret in life. The joy two women can bring each other. It was beautiful and beyond what I could emotionally handle. I felt my tears fall and Jennifer kissed them.
I slipped a finger inside her, wondering at just how different it felt from mine, and just how well I knew it already. She was soaking wet. Her juices were thick and slippery, and I spread them around. She was doing the same to me and I felt the stirring of orgasmic bliss start its beautiful rise within me.
We were panting and our breaths washed over each other. Her exhale was my inhale, and we shared the oxygen in the room. Our fingers probed gently, spreading lips, touching the vaginal opening to seek more moisture. We could hear our fingers working and the wet sound was magic to my ears.
How could anyone think lesbian sex was depraved or evil? It felt like the most natural thing I had ever done. Natural like childbirth, except this was the pleasure that women feel and not the pain of bringing a child into the world. I felt at peace with my prior doubts. They had vanished with the intimate understanding that two people can love each other and pleasure each other.
I raised a finger and gently touched her clitoris. I knew exactly where it was and how to touch it. I was gentle and watched her eyes flutter and close. Her hand stopped between my legs, and I smiled. I gently played with her little, hard bud. She was as excited as me. I continued to play with her, and her hips started to thrust at me and my fingers. I switched my finger for my thumb and then pressed two fingers into her vagina. She moaned deeper than I woman should be able to, and I thrilled at the sound. I made her do that. I was proud of myself.