Conventional Love
It was only noon, and already the pigtails were driving me up a
wall. Why did gnomes have to wear such oversized, mutton-shaped clumps
of hair? Sure, thanks to the temporary dye I had bought I was able to
emulate that bright pink hue just fine, but now I was really starting to
regret it as I felt the huge things pulling back on my scalp.
Well, nobody said cosplaying was easy, and so far at least the
reaction I had received was worth it.
The guy who ran the turnstile at the entrance had really thought
it was cute, and even said I was one of the best he had seen so far. I
had accented the gnomish pigtails with a blue and white wizard robe to
simulate one of the dozens of similar generic caster items in the game,
and a plastic dagger I bought at the dollar store. It wasn't the most
complicated or expensive costume at the Warcraft convention, but it
looked all right.
For once I was grateful that I was just under five feet tall, it
made it so much more believable.
Costume aside, so far the convention had been a lot of fun. I
spoke with a few developers, posed for a few pictures with other fans,
and by noon my cheesey plastic bag with the Alliance symbol was filled
with useless junk. A pamphlet for a new game coming out, a few odds and
ends with various Warcraft faction symbols on them, and a toy
mechanostrider that I just had to buy for my desk at work.
For my first convention, the only complaint I had was that I
didn't have anyone to go with. That thought struck me again shortly
after noon, just as I had stepped to the side of the enormous crowds to
once again adjust the pigtails. I plopped down the bag of giveaways and
fidgeted with them impatiently, tugging and yanking at the pigtail
clasps to make them fit more snugly.
As I messed with my almost painfully pink hair, I couldn't help
but take notice of all the couples. The stereotype of the dateless male
loser at these things was true to some extent, but a casual non-dork
citizen would've been amazed at all the relationships flitting about. A
shirtless, semi-muscular guy painted in green was walking hand-in-hand
with a girl whose face had been flushed and pale, an adorable Horde duo
now looking over a selection of posters. An older couple, far too
mature for the nonsense of cosplaying, sat contently at a nearby table,
sharing a basket of fries from the food court. And finally with a
giggle I noticed a pair of young men dressed like Blood Elves, cuddling
into one another while they watched a demo at a nearby table.
Hey, at least they picked the right race.
It was sweet to an extreme, but for all the cuteness of the duos I
was forced to think back to my own partner, my own mate that was
supposed to come along with me. He was going to go as his dwarf
paladin, and had even gone so far as to purchase the fake beard in
preparation for the event. (The idea of him growing his own so long was
simply laughable, given his inability to even grow chest hair.)
But as things would have it, tickets you sign up for months in
advance aren't always ones you'll use. By the time I had received them
in the mail he was already gone, left for me some tramp he met at the
comic book store.
There's something funny about infidelity when nerds do it? I
guess it's because of the locations. We don't fuck around in a sleazy
parking lot or at a seedy, smoke-filled bar. We cheat on each other in
the library, or at the arcade, or at our parent's house while Smash
Brothers melee is on pause.
My favorite is Kirby, by the way. And I was super pissed when I
heard Brawl was pushed back to March.
At any rate, my boyfriend and comic whore first kissed right in
front of a display of Magic: The Gathering cards, and with that kiss he
tapped two black mana and used an instant to destroy our love.
Stop laughing, it was traumatic.
I graduated from college a few months later and got a job at a
nearby retail place, and still saw him on occasion walking around with
her. One time I even dared to speak to him, but he was so distant and
unaffected it was clear that he moved on. So when the tickets to the
convention arrived I resolved myself to go, even if I had to by myself.
It had been what I was looking forward to for months, and I wasn't about
to deprive myself of my first convention just because he couldn't keep
his Meekstone card to himself.
You can laugh at that one, it was meant to be funny.
Just as I had let loose a tiny sigh from the back of my throat, it
was absorbed by the noise of the people around me. Chatting about their
characters, trading information like server and side and name, enjoying
being in an environment where our dorkiness was celebrated rather than
shunned.
The noise was louder down near the poster booth, and I turned my
head to see if the orc and undead couple were posing for more pictures.
Certainly there were dozens of flashes going off, but I was surprised to
see that the Horde duo had long since moved on.
The attention was centered around a girl, no older than twenty or
so, casually flipping through a set of page-sized posters the right
proportions for putting at a desk or cubicle. She was unique in several
ways, the first of which being that she had decided to come to the
convention in one of the most attention whoring outfits imaginable.
A Night Elf sentinel.
A fake-metal bikini was accented by large leather boots that went
up to her knees, and thick gloves that went halfway to her elbow. Large
metal shoulder pads were almost the exact same size as the cups of the
breastplate, which even I could tell was over exaggerating the size of
her chest by a significant degree. The skin which could be seen; which
was in massive abundance, had all been painted a rich deep purple,
flawlessly matching in-game colors to a delightful level that allowed me
to indulge in my appreciate for geek-riddled attention. Likewise her
hair; if it was indeed her own hair and not a wig, was pulled back into
an almost ludicrously long ponytail, and capped with an elvish-looking
bead near the end to hold it all into place. A half helmet wrapped
around her head, metal plates draping down either cheek with the face
fully exposed. It was that sort of pure fantasy armor that would've
offered no protection in the real world, but looked oh-so-stylish when
worn on the body of someone that knew how to carry it.
This girl did, and the cameras were eager to see it.
I hadn't yet seen her face, but her body was quite appealing, if a
bit clich‚d amongst our normal gathering. One of the simple rules of
being a geek is that you're either overweight or underweight. I was the
former, and she was the latter. Where my own slightly large hips ruined
any confidence I would've had in such a skimpy outfit, her ultra narrow
frame had just enough mass to stand with her rump to one side, allowing
the waistband of the metal bikini to threaten dropping away. My own
stomach had a bit of a pot belly to it, but hers was trim and
delightful, and I had no doubt that she barely would've used even a
single canister of body paint to cover all of that exposed flesh. As I
mentioned her breasts were small, much smaller than the metal bikini
indicated, and it was the one area where I felt a bit superior to this
mysterious night elf. My own chest was ample thanks to one of the few
blessings of being fat, while hers was so small as to be almost
non-existent. As a final contrast the elf girl was tall, even moreso
than some of the boys surrounding her, standing what had to be at least
close to six feet, if not hitting that marker itself. A tall, thin girl
dressed as a night elf...and a pudgy, short girl dressed as a gnome.
If we had met each other earlier, we could've signed up for the
duos costume competition and been guaranteed a victory.
As the mysterious Night Elf continued to casually inspect the
comics, my eyes drifted across the crowd to the various people watching
her. There were a few of the stereotypical desperate teenage boys,
gawking with obvious, slack-jawed expressions at a nicely shaped female
that decided to parade around wearing practically nothing. They were
the sort that were still at the age that it was cute to be charmingly
inexperienced, and they had at least five years before their social
awkwardness made them downright creepy to talk to. Speaking of, the
much older variety were also peering at her, and in far greater numbers.
Trying to be subtle about their staring they peeked from behind the
edges of magazines, around the fringes of the crowd, and a few even
dared to casually glance at the posters on the table, inching ever
closer to her. Finally there was a rep for the convention taking his
own photos with an expensive camera, and I could tell by the smirk on
his face that he was just as entertained as I was by the clich‚s
surrounding the scene.
The Night Elf turned around to walk away from the table, seemingly
unknowing of the small following she had collected. At last now I could
see her face, and I admit that at the same time I was both relieved and
disappointed. If she had been a beauty queen of the highest level, I
would've been confused to the point of going cross-eyed. Let's face it,
we're not the most attractive culture in the world. Despite our wildly
fluxuating weights we're usually slapped with eyeglasses and pimples, or
disproportionate faces that are outlined by shaggy, maniacal hair.
True story. At the opening of the Two Towers, there were so many
greasy ponytails I almost choked on my Milk Duds.
She was cute for one of our kind, but she wasn't beautiful like
one of them. One of the outsiders that didn't understand our world, or
our fascination with the bizarre, the arcane, and the misunderstood. To
them she would be average.
She had bright blue eyes with thin blonde eyebrows, indicating the
true color of her hair in contrast to the mass of startling white that
clung around her head. Her smile was sweet and simple, with bright
white teeth that stood in perfect formation. She had the sort of smile
that put me in mind of someone who wore braces, which made me
immediately wonder if perhaps she was just recently out of them. A nose
a single size too small for her face was bent ever so gently up at the
tip, and the entire face was covered in that same purple body paint,
with lipstick a little bit darker spread around her too-large mouth.
The girl moved past the crowd and eventually drew upon me, and I
blushed and smiled when she finally made eye contact. The look on her
face was a charmingly, friendly sort of exasperation, and as the horde
behind her continued to follow, she took the chance to roll her eyes, a
humorous sign only I could see. Before I knew it she had moved past me
and a door swung open, and I turned around to watch while the group let
loose with a collective, disappointed moan.
The tiny embossed lady figure on the door was proof enough that no
one from this crowd would be getting inside.
I slipped into the ladies' room after moving quickly past the
crowd, curiously pursuing the Night Elf that had caused such a scene
only to quickly vacate the premises. Noise from the outside filled the
room but silenced into a muffled sound once the door was closed, and
already I could smell the distinct odor of a burning cigarette. Moving
through the tiny alcove past the door I came into the main portion of
the room, and saw her.
It was almost a laughably ridiculous sight, an armored,
purple-skin maiden sitting on the low windowsill of the bathroom, one
leg up against the opposite side while she clutched a cigarette in
between two thickly-gloved fingers. The mass of white hair was now
sitting on the nearby sink, the long ponytail bunched up and folded over
itself to avoid laying on the floor. In its stead I was able to see the
girl's true hair, bright and blonde and falling down to near the bottom
of her cheeks. As I entered she turned her head and gave me a small
smirk, her wide lips turning up into a welcoming and friendly
expression.
"When is that developer making his speech about the Witch King
expansion?" She abruptly asked, and didn't wait for my answer before
taking in another long drag of her cigarette. Eager to answer I set my
bag of convention memorabilia on the nearby counter, and quickly
rummaged through to find the schedule of events. I could hear my own
voice echoing in the bathroom, but it almost felt surreal, as if I
couldn't imagine myself talking.
"Well, let's see..." I paused, scanning over the chain of events.
"At twelve-thirty there's the card game tournament, then at one o'clock
the costume competition. Looks like they're not going to be doing the
expansion thing until one thirty at the earliest." The girl chuckled a
little, and pursed her falsely purple lips to let some of the smoke slip
through the cracked windowsill.
"I'll sneak out when they do that, maybe by then the crowd will
have died down some." She paused for a moment, and her blue eyes
narrowed as she slightly turned the cigarette back and forth in her
fingers. Musing mostly to herself, I had to strain to hear anything she
said. "This was such a stupid idea, I don't know what I was thinking.
All those people watching me, it's not my thing at all."
I smiled a little bit, and began to slowly make my way over to
where she half-sat on the sill. My own short, large body leaned against
the wall beside her, and I tilted my head to look in her direction.
Even though one of those ridiculous pink ponytails was in the way, I
could see her face enough to know she was looking back.
"You don't seem like the type." I offered, shrugging my shoulders
a little. "Dressing up to tease and make a spectacle of yourself. Did
your boyfriend make you do it?" To this the girl gave a resounding
laugh, and she drew another long bit of breath from her smoke.
"Oh, gnomey, if you only knew the many things wrong with that
question." She chuckled, and my eyes followed as tendrils of gray smoke
drifted from her nostrils. "Nah, this was my idea. Thought maybe it'd
be fun to get out of the apartment for a change, dress up all sexy, get
a little bit of attention. I can't tell you how many guys offered to
buy me an epic mount if I come play on their server." We both laughed,
and she reached into a tiny pocket built into her fake-metal bikini,
pulling out a list of several dozen character names and servers. With
complete apathy she lobbed it lightly into the trash can a few feet
away, and I smirked wide in response.
"At least people didn't spend their morning telling you how
childishly cute you were." I replied, rolling my eyes up at the
pigtails. "There's not really a whole lot of interest from the guys
when you remind them of people that pwn them in PvP with names like
Taffyhead."
We both laughed, and as she covered her mouth with one of her
gloves I could hear a tiny snort from deep inside her. Cute.
We chatted for a while longer, completely uninterrupted by the
outside of the room. Turned out her name was Karen, and-
Oh, wait. I never told you mine, did I? It's Samantha. Sam
works.
Anyways, Karen and I talked for about twenty minutes. Turned out
she wasn't the attention whore I had pegged her for at first, as a
couple of times she mentioned her regret of dressing up so skimpy. She
sounded like she had the same concerns I did about my own body, albeit
from different perspectives. It gave us a common ground and we built on
that with the superficial talks about the game, our characters, and how
much a Warcraft movie would suck.
Seriously, it would. You know it would.
Before I knew it one o'clock had come, and we heard the muffled
voice of the announcer from outside preparing to say who had won the
costume competition. I gave a smirk to Karen and reached out a hand,
poking her exposed, purple tummy with one of my fingers.
"You should be there for that. I bet you'd get all kinds of
awards...and phone numbers."
"Nah..." She had just finished her second cigarette, and was
preparing to light a third when she suddenly arched an eye, and looked
up at me with a sudden wave of concern. "You don't mind, do you?
Sorry...I was so stressed, didn't even think to ask."
"No, no...I'm fine." I assured her, lying that the cigarette
smoke didn't bother me. She shrugged and lit up as planned, and leaned
her head back against the frame of the windowsill.
"Half hour to go..." She mused, gazing up at the ceiling. There
was a moment of quiet in the air, until her voice once more broke out
into the echoing silence of the bathroom.
"Hey Sammy..." I looked casually over, tilting my head curiously.
When she spoke again, her words hit me like a Pyroblast.
"You wanna have sex?"
I stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, staring ahead with my mouth
wide open and eyes large with shock. Karen was still casually sitting
against the windowsill, her eyes flickering now over the cigarette she
casually twirled in her fingers, not even acknowledging my presence.
After I had assured myself that I did indeed hear her correctly, I
stammered out an answer as quickly as I could.
"Uh...s-sure!" I cringed at the sound of my own voice; it was
hesitant and wary, not at all the tone of a confidant woman. For as
much as my tone shocked me the words themselves held an even greater
surprise value, for I suddenly realized what I had just agreed to. It
was part reactionary response, part underlying loneliness, and perhaps
part rampant curiosity. Whatever it was, it was out there, and I
suddenly straightened by back to look steadier.
Karen's mysterious eyes drifted slowly up to look at me, the
corners of her wide mouth turning into what was clearly an expression of
confusion.
"I...was joking." She spoke with a cautious and careful tone,
each letter of each word murmured with clarity.
Then came the awkward silence.
For about a minute neither of us said anything, and we both began
to mindlessly fidget with pieces of our costumes. I had found a stray
thread on the sleeve of my mage robe that merited attention, and from
the corner of my eye I could see Karen adjusting the length of one of
her brown leather gloves, tugging it down more so the fingers stretched
the fabric inside. Neither of us said anything, and Karen even forgot
about her cigarette after laying it on the windowsill.
I pretended to cough to break the silence, but it was transparent
to say the least. By now my cheeks were flush with crimson, almost
brighter than the hair dye in my pigtails. As I studied that fact in
the adjacent bathroom mirror, my mind began to swirl with how to get
myself away from the conversation. Karen had been a delight to talk to,
but how could I possibly consider hanging out and chatting more after
such a colossal embarrassment? Soon my rapidly drying mouth opened, and
my voice croaked out a few broken fragments.
"W-Well, I really s-should get goi-"
"What the hell? Let's go for it."
Her voice cut me off, and my head swung so hard around to view her
that one of my pigtails came free. My hair was suddenly unleashed from
its bindings and cascaded across my shoulder in a blinding wave of hot
pink, and this time I stood staring at her with the same slack jawed
expression, but with much goofier hair. Her head had raised and she
stared back this time, smile slanting to one side in a cocky and
downright arrogant smirk.
I wanted her in the worst fucking way.
The next thing I knew the door to the nearby stall had been flung
open, and Karen's surprisingly strong hands were pushing me back by
means of a delightful grip on my shoulders. The back of my knees hit
the ridge of the toilet and I immediately slumped down atop it, and the
sound of the door slamming could be heard as Karen kicked back with one
of her knee-high leather boots.
If I may break from the upcoming steamy sex scene for a moment,
I'd like to paint for you a picture of just what the deal was. You see,
it's not surprising that a lot of people within my delightful geek
community have a distorted view of what sex looks like. Indeed, thanks
to the Internet and the abundance of professional quality pornography,
the average person's view on how smoothly and beautifully the deed goes
down is horribly askew.
Suffice to say, neither Karen nor myself are supermodels. We
weren't wearing Hollywood-grade makeup, and there was no pouty, full,
collagen-injected lips. It was a dingy bathroom in the convention
center of a hotel, so you can also put out of mind any visions of a
resort-level accommodations in which we made love.
The passionate part of me wanted her more than anything, but the
realistic side said there was no way in Hell I was going to get on my
knees in a public restroom.
So are you still with me? Good. I wanted to dispel any
preconceived ideas of what the moment looked like. Because believe me,
even though it wasn't a big budget porno, I wouldn't of traded what I
had in that bathroom for the world.
Karen was upon me, and I only had a few brief seconds to take her
all in. She tore off her gloves and threw them down to the ground, and
I could hear the ringing of cheap costume jewelry she had used in their
construction hitting the cold tile floor. Immediately her milky white
palm was at my cheek, and by sheer instinct I found my lips turning into
her hand, kissing a few times while she cradled my face. She had great
hands. Large for a girl, but her fingers were as thin as the rest of
her, and they had the calloused texture of a hard worker.
I love a rough hand, it feels so safe.
I closed my eyes and relished in the feel of her other hand in my
hair, undoing that infuriating other pigtail and catching all the
released strands in her fingers. My lips traveled further along her
hand and up her wrist, pausing to dab my tongue atop her flesh where I
could swear that I could feel her pulse. When I opened my eyes I could
see the blend of body paint and skin, the seam on her body at the
forearm where she had stopped applying makeup because she'd be wearing
gloves. Swirls of dark purple separated the woman from the Night Elf,
just as the hair she now held to her nose and drew breath upon hid a
woman underneath a gnome.
I let my hands wrap around her trim waist, and I contented myself
with tracing lines up and down that slender, lovely back. She was so
thin I could easily feel the ridge of her spine down to her tailbone,
and I teased that trail up and down a few times. Upon each journey my
fingers bumped the upper rip of her gaudy "metal" bikini, which I now
realized was little more than a regular bikini top expertly plated with
pieces of cardboard and plastic, spray-painted in hues of silver and
gray.
Her fingers now met at the back of my neck, gently encouraging my
gaze to lift upwards. Not one to refuse the orders of a strange girl in
a bathroom I let my head crane skyward, and our eyes met in a moment
lost in the sudden waves of desire.
I could almost see the girl that hid behind the paint. That big
and friendly smile, those shining aqua eyes, and that softly curved chin
tapering into a trim, elegant neck. Her painted lavender lips parted to
reveal an even more charming smile, and she stretched her neck down so
that our faces could be brought together. Hands tightened around each
other as my new friend drew near, and I couldn't resist letting my
fingernails dig into the soft flesh of her waist in anticipation.
I never kissed another girl before then, it was a pretty big
moment in my life.
You don't believe me? ...well, your mom doesn't count. Hee!
I used to hate the smell of cigarette smoke, but the second I
could breath it in off of Karen's sweet mouth, I knew just how addictive
it could be. My eyes fell closed as her hands swept around to grip my
cheeks, and then came the warm sensation of lips upon mine.
Her kiss was slow at first, and I was surprised by it. Given the
sudden flurry of excitement and how she had so roughly pushed me into
the bathroom, I had half expected to be completely ravaged without any
patience or pause. Part of me had imagined it being over before I even
realized it began, afraid that time would go by so quickly I'd not have
a second to experience it. On the contrary though, when we kissed it
was as if time stood still.
Clich‚, I know, but I mean it. It had such an impact that I can
still feel it lingering on my mouth months later, and if I think hard
enough I can almost taste her flavor that afternoon. Tobacco,
peppermint gum, and a fading taste of coffee.
It was offered to me atop the skills of a strong, thin tongue;
slipping past my quivering lips and pushing past my own. I attempted to
wrestle my tongue against hers but it was a futile battle, she showed
her dominance by pinning mine to the roof of my mouth several times
without fail. Futile battle or no; however, I continued to fight, and I
enjoyed every last second of it.
Our mouths separated by means of her biting gently down on my
lower lip, and pulling apart enough to make me gasp from the excitement.
My eyes snapped open and we gazed at one another, intently studying the
features of the other cosplayer. A hand left my hair and began
traveling down the length of my robe, and a new game was born between
us. She'd do all she could to make me flinch, and I'd try my best to
pretend like it had no effect on me.
Our staring contest would've normally be even matched, and since
that day I admit I've won my fair share of them against her. But it's
not so easy when an expert like Karen is slipping her fingers in between
the openings on your robe, touching at whatever strikes her fancy.
I remained sentinel for a few moments, somehow finding the
strength to endure even as she petted my bra. My knees trembled but I
continued to stare ahead even as her fingers slinked underneath my
breast, and digits began to knead it from below, molding into it and
making my heart race faster. The snap of my bra being pulled over my
breasts was like a gunshot in the confines of the bathroom, and the
arrogant smirk playing on her face told me that she knew how close I was
to breaking. She could hear the skipping of my breath, see the sweat
clinging to my forehead, and see the trembling of my lip which so
desperately craved for the taste of hers again.
My hands tightened around Karen's body and I stifled a yelp as she
first touched my bare nipple with her fingers, brushing across it
swiftly at first before darting back to give it a lingering pinch. As
my fingernails dug into her waist the other nipple was given the same
attention, and my resolution continued to break down.
Lips then fell upon my forehead, and a fading moan slipped from
the back of my throat. My endurance was nearing its breaking point as
she continued, giving tiny kisses across my brow and peppering my skin
with the feel of her deliciously scented breath.
I lost yet another battle against her when I felt her tongue dab
away a bead of sweat, and my voice cried out in a sudden surrender.
"Oh God, fuck me!" I wailed, and tightened my arms around Karen's
waist. She laughed in her victory and nodded in eager acceptance, large
hands escaping the folds of my robe to move up again to my shoulders.
As fingers began the relaxing process of kneading into my sore muscles,
she whispered against a mass of bright pink hair.
"You've gotta be loud for me, Sammy..." She gave me a command,
and her voice was so dominating that it simply made me melt. I
whimpered and nodded in agreement, writhing there in my seat, rubbing my
thighs together in my lap in some desperate gesture of desire and
anticipation. Her voice filled me like nectar, each word making me want
to do her bidding more and more. "If I have my head underneath that
robe, you better make sure you're loud enough for me to hear it."
There was a paused moment as she lowered her head a slight bit
more, and her mouth came in contact with the upper rim of my ear. I
shivered from the breath that struck me, but even moreso from the words
that were whispered.
"I don't care if everyone at this fucking thing hears me make you
cum."
A lick across my ear nearly made me black out, but I held on
through sheer force of will.
She disappeared underneath the long azure robe of my gnomish other
self, kneeling on the floor of the bathroom and effectively vanishing
save for the thin outline of her body underneath the fabric. Stretching
forward I could see the edge of her boots peeking out from the length of
my garment, and I couldn't resist a giggle at how wonderfully Karen had
essentially become a part of me.
WTB lesbian lover enchant for robe.
I made good on my word almost immediately, and the ladies room
filled with the noise of my increasingly loud moaning. Each feel of
fingertip along my thighs, each sensation of breath striking my flesh,
and each frustrating nip of teeth against my panties made my desperation
become more potent. I couldn't even remember what panties I had worn
that morning, but I was certain that it was nothing erotic or enticing.
I mean, seriously. Who wears sexy lingerie to geek gathering?
Rocky Horror fans, that's who. But that's beside the point.
Her hands swept underneath my thighs and enriched the entirety of
my legs, clutching them tightly and holding them apart. In obedience I
leaned forward a little and began to stretch my legs outward, lifting
them until I could fit both of my gnomish work boots (sneakers with
rawhide glued to them,) against the door of the stall. I was short
enough that the action almost made my butt slide off of the seat, but
thankfully Karen's grip and even more thankfully, her face, were there
to keep me from falling completely off. Her hands tightened and her
mouth dropped down, and I gave another sharp cry as teeth once more came
down upon the fabric of my panties. A single close bite, and she'd pull
them back an inch until she felt the fabric grow taught, and then
immediately release them to snap against my skin. And again. And then
a third time.
"Please don't tease me!" I begged, squirming again against her
amazingly strong hands. In punishment and reward she turned her head
from side to side to shower a series of kisses and bites against my
inner thighs, nothing more than a nibble, and nothing deeper than a
peck. It was enough to make me let loose with a slow and pitched whine,
and briefly I began to wonder if they could hear me outside yet. I had
little time to dwell on it, or get my head around the fact that it was
an arousing thought, until Karen released one of my thighs so her hand
could go to the panties themselves.
My hips jerked when she first touched me, two solid fingers held
against the length of my, er...
Story's really heating up, isn't it? I don't mean to break the
mood, but damned if it doesn't bother me how some people that write
erotic stories just use the same word for that area over and over and
over again. They're either obsessed with being vulgar and just rifle of
pussy a few dozen times, or they're completely loyal to a clean
narrative and let loose with ridiculous descriptions like flower, petal,
valley, rainbow flesh house, et cetera.
Anyways, back to Karen dry petting my twat.
She pushed her front two fingers against me through the cloth of
my panties, sort of testing the waters to see how ready I had become.
It wasn't even a question for debate; there was nothing more that I
wanted in that instant than her. I was wet through my panties and I was
sure she could feel it, because everywhere she touched me seemed to get
even wetter. My rear end squirmed back and forth in my seat and I
whined louder just as I heard her giggle, and then her teasing voice
echoed from underneath the fancied length of my robe.
"You want to come back to my hotel tonight?" She asked, casually
stroking her fingers up and down my lips. "I brought my Wii along, so
we could play some Reside-"
"Just keep going and I'll do whatever you want!" I shouted to cut
her off, almost angry at the sudden interruption of my pleasure. My
voice was so loud that it echoed inside of the bathroom, and I could
hear faint murmuring from just outside the door. It could've been that
people hear me, or it could've been that they announced Pandaren as a
playable race in the Witch King expansion.
Either one of those instances would only make me wetter.
Karen gave me my wish by suddenly snatching away my panties,
pulling them aside just enough so that I could feel the rush of fresh
air against my pussy. I yelped in surprise and joy when her mouth
lunged forward, and there came a rapturous moan when she gave me what I
had been so desperately yearning for.
Her clever tongue was tracing my folds while her hand was busy
playing support, dancing across my thighs and pinching in random places
to keep my sensitive body guessing. I clutched the rim of the toilet to
hang on, and my head fell back while my eyes closed, knowing it would
take all I had to endure the coming onslaught.
Karen's forefinger slid inside of me just as I first felt her
tongue encircle my clit, and my hips bucked violently at the sensation.
She was clearly far more experienced than me, for the way in which she
used her tongue was like nothing I had ever felt before. She was swift
but precise, attentative and generous. She was nothing like my ex, who
just did it to get his own in return. Within the first few seconds of
Karen's tongue working the northern end of my pussy, I could clearly
tell that she was loving every second of it.
Echoing now in the stall was not only my heavy moaning, but the
noise of Karen's messy slurping. Several lines of saliva were running
down my valley, joining with the moisture that had already been building
up over the past few minute's events. The finger inside was twisting
and turning in all the right ways, hooking inside of me only on random
instances where her hand would jerk upward as if to lift me off the
seat. I gave a piercing cry as a second digit wedged its way inside,
and Karen straightened both of her fingers so she could test the waters
of how deep I could take them.
All the way to the hilt of her hand, if you're curious.
By that point my moaning and occasional screaming had reached a
fevered pitch, and to add to the noise the toilet lid was banging up and
down as my entire body bounced atop it. The hinges of the stall's door
creaked with both my feet still wedged against it, and as a final lovely
touch Karen's own moaning had joined the noise.
I really shouldn't of been surprised, but the surprise was part of
the pleasure.
I could hear the door to the bathroom being swung open, and a
brusque female voice shouting into the room.
"What the hell is going on in here?!"
Needless to say, I came on the spot. The sound of splashing
against the tile was the only thing that preceded the following awkward
silence.
That last part of the story really ended on a hell of a
cliffhanger, huh? Yeah, sorry about that. Ending on a note like that
is a pretty cheap way to get a response from the audience. I think the
technical writer's term for it is "being a lameass." I promise this one
won't end on a cliffhanger.
So, you're probably curious about what happened after someone
burst into the bathroom. At first, Karen and I didn't know what to
think. It could've been a regular person there at the convention, or it
could've been one of the hotel's rent-a-cops.
At first we just stayed completely quiet, like whoever it was
would just go away. The front of my robe had already been pulled up
around my waist, and the top half of Karen's face was peeking out from
underneath. Lavender painted skin shyly making an appearance, her blue
eyes wide with more than just a little surprise. She was probably
regretting telling me to be loud. We glanced to one another and I even
brought a finger to my lips to encourage our silence, but it wasn't any
use. My lanky lover's foot was sticking out from underneath the wall of
the stall, and I watched as the interloper stepped up and kicked at it.
"All right, c'mon out. This is security."
Generally speaking, when someone identifies themselves as
"security" instead of "the police," there's time to make out for a few
seconds before listening to them.
Before Karen started to stand up, I couldn't help but flash her a
huge smile to cheer her up. When she saw me her eyes lit once more and
her worried look turned to one of mischievous joy. Once she was up I
joined her, and we opened the door together so we could face the music.
You'd think that getting caught by security while having sex in
the bathroom would be kinkier than it really was. Don't get me wrong,
the act itself was unbelievable. Probably the best I've ever had up to
that point. When we got caught; though, the excitement kind of died
down. We listened to the security guard ramble about why what we did
was wrong, and how we were disturbing the convention. It was mostly a
chance for her to stroke her ego, make herself look big, and push around
someone slightly more civilian than her.
When it came down to it, what could they do? Karen and I were
both over eighteen, no parents to call and complain to. Would they call
the real cops on us?
That'd go over well. Call the cops to a Warcraft convention
because two girls were dyking out in the bathroom. While in cosplay
gear.
We'd be fucking legends. Bigger than the guy that made the Jimmy
YouTube video.
At any rate, the hotel politely asked us to leave, and we did so
without much complaint. Thankfully neither of us were staying at the
hotel that was holding the convention, so when we got outside we
exchanged cell phone numbers and headed off to our respective lodging
for a bit. Just long enough to shower and change, with the promise of
spending the rest of the day hanging out with one another.
About a half hour later I was in the shower, that annoying robe
bunched up in the corner with a pair of mutilated sneakers on top of it.
Leaning back against the wall and letting the shower spray strike all
over me, I finally had a chance to process all that had happened in the
day. Just as the hot beads of moisture rained down on every sore muscle
in my body, the events that had led me to my first lesbian experience
beat upon my mind with piercing accuracy.
Never had I imagined that I would've ended up in the bathroom
having sex with a stranger, shouting with the intent to be heard by
others. My goal for the day was simple when I woke up that morning, I
would've been content just to get my Alliance T-shirt autographed by a
few random developers that no one would recognize the name of. Maybe
flirt with a few geeky guys, get the code for the next Murloc
promotion...
Well, safe to say my rogue wouldn't be dressed as a murloc anytime
soon. I guess it's a tradeoff.
I began to rub shampoo into my hair in the hopes of working out
the temporary dye. For the most part it worked, but the weak, tiny
bottle of hotel lather wasn't able to completely destroy the hot pink
from my normal natural light brown. I stayed in the shower for an extra
fifteen minutes working on cleansing my abused hair from the horrid
color, the entire time mumbling to myself how stupid I was to think it
was cute to go as a gnome. When my shower was over and I stepped,
soaking wet, onto the bathmat, I glanced at the mirror and had to
cringe. While most of my hair was back to its normal color there were
grotesque streaks of pink in random intervals, showing no rhyme or
reason other than clearly shouting "I ran out of shampoo."
Well, I got dressed while I let my hair dry, hoping it'd look
better once it wasn't soaking wet anymore. Since I didn't know what was
totally appropriate to spend the evening with someone you just had
public sex with, I went with a basic T-shirt and jeans, the spares I had
brought along in my luggage. A few more minutes to brush my teeth and
put on some body spray, and I was ready to go.
I met Karen a few minutes later near a restaurant we had agreed to
meet at, and by that time my hair had dried into a somewhat decent
state. There were still streaks of pink randomly spaced in it, but it
looked more like a punk dye job that was slowly fading as opposed to an
obvious half-ass attempt to clean it out. Regardless, there was a
certain knowing smirk on Karen's lips when she first saw me, and her
eyes spent their fair share of time enjoying it.
And speaking of Karen...wow.
You don't really get an idea for how pretty someone is when
they're in full body paint and dressed like a medieval whore. When I
saw her leaning against the wall beside the restaurant, I was nearly
breathless at beholding what I made out with. Her trim figure was
contained now inside the confines of a green and white striped T-shirt,
which clung to her body without any room for imagination. Blue jeans
likewise appeared mostly painted on her body, stretched taught over
long, lanky legs that crossed so casually at the ankle. She seemed to
have more luck with her dye than I did, since her arms and face were all
a delightful shade of milky white, pale to the point of being the
trademarked stereotype of nerdy culture. Her blonde hair only made her
appear even paler, catching the sun and shimmering in a subtle beauty.
So I'll spare you the boring stuff that happened, and summarize
what the evening was like. We started off with a late lunch, and the
chemistry was good. We talked about family, relationships, what brought
us to the convention. Turned out that her situation wasn't too much
unlike my own, except that it was her girlfriend that she had just
broken up with, and it was a mutual thing rather than a "Can't believe
you ate out that whore on top of the issue where Captain America dies"
situation. As we talked we figured out that in reality we only lived
about an hour and a half away from one another, and while we didn't
specifically mention anything about getting together later, it was
somewhat implied.
After the meal we hit the theater and saw Cloverfield. And no,
before you guess it, we didn't have sex at the movies. For being a wild
dyke, Karen was actually quite the gentleman. While we watched she had
an arm around my shoulders, and occasionally when our hands met in the
popcorn bin she'd stroke the back of my fingers with her thumb, and give
me a wide, charming smile in the darkness. The closest we got to any
physical mischief in the theater was when she fed me a piece of
chocolate from her candy bar, and I let my lips linger at her
fingertips, kissing softly across them.
It doesn't sound like much, but at the time it was the most
sensual moment I could think of.
Y'see...it's been a while. Even before things ended with my ex,
they were going downhill. Sex was a rarity, as was any indication that
he even found me attractive. It was nice to be out with someone that
wanted me, that wanted to hold my hand, to cuddle into me, to every so
often nudge my forehead with hers. Several love-starved months can
really make you appreciate it when someone gives you the attention
you've been yearning, and at that moment I was basically in heaven.
Needless to say, I barely remember Cloverfield. Not because my
eyes weren't on it, but because I couldn't stop thinking about how great
it was to be in Karen's arms.
When the credits finally came up, I glanced at my wristwatch and
saw that it was swiftly approaching seven. Still not ready to stand up
from Karen's arms I lingered there, and rolled my head back so that I
could glance sideways at her handsome features. She smiled, leaned
down, and offered a tiny kiss to the edge of my nose.
"What do you want to do now, sweetheart?" Even with the noise of
people leaving the theater all around me, her voice calling me by such a
pet name was enough to make me shiver. I known then I must've blushed
fiercely, because she took notice and began to trace my cheek with her
fingertips. I wasn't sure what to say in response, so I decided to
simply follow my heart and say the one thing I had been thinking of all
evening.
"Take me back to your hotel room?"
It sounded slutty, I guess, but it really wasn't meant to be.
When I asked it, sex was the farthest thing from my mind. Well...maybe
not exactly the farthest, but it wasn't my main intention. I just
wanted her attention all to myself for the evening, no matter what we
did. Gazing up into those bright blue eyes, totally smitten, my
attraction to her was undeniable. She could take me back to her hotel
and promptly fall asleep for all I cared, I could content myself with
snuggling against her and listening to her breathe until I faintly fell
asleep.
Hey, this is a chick story. Just because we had ridiculously
kinky sex later doesn't mean that I can't also describe my deeply
intimate adoration of her.
Karen was pleased at my request, and she nodded once before
dropping her head down to give me a tiny kiss on the lips. It was brief
and sweet, enough to show me her affection but not enough to get us into
any more trouble. When we stood up to leave she acted again as the
perfect gentleman, holding my coat for me as I slipped it on, and
holding my hand firmly but not tightly as we left.
Karen was staying at a similar hotel to mine, not as nice as where
the convention was held, but not nearly the cesspool with the broken
sign I saw as I was driving in. The entire walk to it was made in
silence as we moved hand-in-hand, both of us quiet in anticipation of
what would come. It wasn't until we were inside the elevator that one
of us spoke, for when Karen slinked in close to wrap an arm around my
waist, I moved to hold my head to her chest and listened to her softly
speak. Cuddled together in the first true privacy we had since the
convention's bathroom, we were free to unabashedly hold each other, and
relish in the intimacy. She lowered her head into my hair, and I could
feel her taking a deep breath of it before her soft pink lips opened to
whisper.
"Mmm, Sammy..." Her voice was almost absorbed by the noise of the
elevator as it began to rise, a deep, echoing metal creak. She waited a
moment until it found its groove, and then whispered some more into my
strands of brown and pink hair. "You're gonna call me when the
weekend's over, right?"
She said it with a tone that indicated a casual, free spirit, but
I knew better. As my head tilted to the side, her mouth began to drop,
and soon I could hear the pause of breath and the faint licking of
tongue to flesh on the outside of my earlobe. A warm breath coursed
down the length of my neck, and I trembled so hard that Karen had to
tighten her arms around me to keep me up. The first thing from my mouth
was a simple gasp at the sensation, and then a low and subtle moan as I
felt her tongue delicately tracing every contour of my ear. As she made
me melt yet again with her skills, I thought upon what she had asked.
She sounded casual, sure. But deep down there was concern. The
same concern I had. The fear that when the weekend was over, so was
this. That it was just a one night stand. She was trying to prepare
herself, just in case she got home on Monday and the phone never rang.
I couldn't help but giggle, even more charmed by Karen's
nonchalant mask. Even amidst insecurity and worry, she played it cool
and calm, continuing to work my body like the heartthrob rebel of the
fifties. Those old movies where the guy with greased back hair and a
handsome smile could make a girl faint just by giving her a certain
look, Karen had them all beat. She was scared. And her hair wasn't
greasy. And even still, she managed to get the job done.
With still-buckling knees (and a growing sense of, erm, let's say
enthusiasm,) I tilted my head away from Karen's mouth, bringing my eyes
to be in line with her own. I could still feel a bit of moisture at the
edge of my ear, just as I could see the bead of spit across her pale
lips. She was still giving me that look, through these hauntingly
gorgeous eyes that seemed to make every inch of my flesh tingle in
excitement. Knowing her worry, knowing her fear, I did my best to
console her of what she was too proud to admit.
My lips drew near, and I gave her a tiny peck, just barely enough
to collect the drop of moisture at the cusp of her flesh. My tongue
peeked out to collect the droplet, and I gave her a smile as warm as I
could muster. Then, well...
I'm not proud of this, okay? It sounds really sappy, it sounds
over-romantic, and trust me, it sounds a lot better when you're in that
situation. That's how it goes, damnit! You ever tell someone they're
the sunshine and rain to you? You KNOW it sounds ludicrously goofy, but
you say it because it sounds good at the time. She had just asked
"You're gonna call me when the weekend's over, right?" And that's why I
said this, as Karen looked at me with masked worry and unmasked hope;
"I'm gonna call you my girlfriend when the weekend's over."
To this day, she still teases me about what a lame line it was.
But you know what? Bitch didn't think it was lame back then!
I could almost instantly feel her arms tighten around me, and in
response my own squeezed her back. Our faces drew closer as Karen's
beautiful, extra wide smile erupted in a shining wall of perfectly white
teeth. She giggled deep inside her throat in an almost stupid-sounding
chuckle, for it was mixed with equal portions of happiness, arousal, and
excitement. Her joyful noises weren't alone, I certainly made plenty of
my own, including giggling so hard I hiccupped.
Kinda embarrassing, but whatever.
The elevator finally reached its destination and we darted out,
holding each other's hand as we practically ran to the end of the hall
where Karen's room was. While she fumbled with the key I stood behind
her, hands on her shoulders and lips on the back of her slender neck,
standing on my tiptoes to make it a reachable height. An unlocking
noise later and we were inside, a split second afterwards a "Do not
disturb" sign was thrown upon the door, and it slammed shut with a heavy
crash.
And what happened after is between me and her, dear reader.
...
...
...
Ha! Just kidding. Gotcha!
The hotel room was pitch black when we slipped inside, and as we
stumbled inside Karen struck the bathroom light, one of those weird
setups where the light is outside of the bathroom itself. It allowed
for a dim light to slip into must've the room, adding an atmosphere not
unlike that which a few perfectly placed candles would give. Looking to
the side I saw Karen's dirty clothes in a corner, beside a few bits and
pieces of her costume that she had worn to the convention. A freshly
made bed with a mint on the pillow told of a maid's visit, but an empty
soda can on the nightstand told me she hadn't done a thorough job of
cleaning.
We slipped inside with me right behind Karen, and I wrapped an arm
around her slender waist to help hold her in close against me. Before I
even knew what I was doing, my hand had slipped underneath her shirt,
and I felt my fingers brushing up against her perfectly trim tummy,
sliding back and forth against that lovely pale skin. There was a
moment where she savored it; I could tell. Despite the sexual energy in
the air, we both gave ourselves the moment to enjoy the tender
sweetness, a few seconds where I stroked her stomach and smelled her
hair while she closed her eyes and lavished in the attention.
The moment of sweetness melded gradually with less innocent
desires, and I could feel my body giving way to the urges I had felt all
day long. My face was no longer keeping my nose nearby to smell her
hair; instead it had dropped down so that my lips could begin kissing
along her back, any flesh that the collar of her short was shy of
hiding. I still stood on my tiptoes to do so, one hand braced on her
waist for balance, the other still underneath her shirt. It wasn't
satisfied by stroking her stomach anymore, though! My fingers had
become hungry, and they were keeping my new lover guessing by
occasionally slipping to the extremes of the north and south of her
body. First, past her stomach and towards her chest, where they just
barely stroked across the bottom fabric of her bra. Then down in a
swift motion, enough to stick my fingertips just underneath the rim of
her jeans. With each motion she gave a tiny gasp, her body aware of
where it wanted to be touched; everywhere. Before long her knees had
buckled so that we stood on a closer level, and she leaned her head back
to rest it upon my shoulder.
I enjoyed this. With my old boyfriend, I never got to be the
"dominant" one. I'd play the femme role and let him do his thing, and
god forbid if I tried to be the one to instigate things. Now, with this
gorgeous thing in my arms, leaning behind me, writhing under my
touch...I was finally in control.
Her head tilted and looked sideways at me, and the desperate
pursing of her lips told me she wanted a kiss. I teased her with it,
dipping my head in to gently brush our lips together, only to swiftly
pull away and leave her gasping in frustrated torment. Once again, and
her mouth still fell for it. It wasn't until she gave a pitiful whine
and reached a hand back into my brown and pink hair that I finally gave
her what she required, and with her hand in my hair guiding my actions,
I moved in to fiercely kiss her.
There was no sweet and subtle kisses, no gentle pecks around the
area. It was primal, and it was pure. My tongue darted into her mouth
and immediately struck hers, and we both shared a moan that made our
lips tremble from vibration. God, she tasted good. Sweet and
addicting. Our eyes closed and we whimpered from the sensations, deeply
kissing each other with all of our frustrations fading away.
My ex liked to hide porn on his computer from me. Sometimes I'd
snoop, and I'd see a lot of the girl/girl stuff he had. They kissed so
dainty. Tiny pecks, closed lipped, so obvious that they didn't want to
be doing it. Obvious that it was just a show. I had wondered a lot
back then what I would've kissed another girl like, what my own style
would be.
Well, at the time...it was sloppy and wild. It was wet and noisy
and deep and uncontrolled, and with each breath we took mid-kiss it only
became moreso. I could feel her breath upon my face, chilling the marks
of spit that had collected here and there across my cheeks, and I knew
that she felt the same sensation by the moans she was starting to make.
Unable to maintain full control of my body, my hands started to take
matters into themselves, and soon I felt too fleshy orbs inside my
palms. I was squeezing them, and she was singing in cries and whimpers
and gasps.
The fabric of her shirt was tossed aside after the kiss, and Karen
was tossed to the bed. She looked like a Gap model. Thin, blonde, and
wearing nothing but jeans and a bra. While she stretched back and gave
me a wagging finger motion to come to her, I worked at my own clothing,
eager to get off all I could. While my feet worked to kick off my
sneakers my hands were busy at my jeans, fumbling with the button as if
it had suddenly become a combination lock. When I caught a sight of
those gorgeous eyes of hers; however, there was no time to remember the
combination numbers.
I shoved the jeans down without unbuttoning them, hooking my
thumbs into the waistband of my panties on the way down so I could kill
two birds with one stone. My oversized T-shirt fell over anything
revealing, and as soon as the jeans were at the floor I charged ahead to
join Karen in bed.
Tackling atop her, I snatched her into my arms and kissed her as
passionately as I ever kissed my ex. Moaning and desperate my mouth
fell on hers, and we eagerly shared each other as we had been doing all
day long. Her hands were inside my shirt, stroking my back and nipping
at the straps of my bra, and mine were in her hair, holding the back of
her neck, making sure that she couldn't escape my deep and lusting kiss.
My knees suddenly buckled and I nearly slipped in the kiss when I
felt her touch me someplace very sensitive. My body alive with a
pleasure I hadn't known since earlier in the day, my eyes shot open and
I looked into the piercing color of Karen's own. They were shining with
mischievous delight, and as our kiss faded our foreheads met, so that
she could stare into my eyes while her hand below started to play.
One of her palms had nestled against my pussy, palming it like she
was holding a handful of water. Her fingertips were sliding back and
forth at the very bottom of it, while the heel of her palm mashed gently
into the top. I grit my teeth with a manic grin as I gazed at my new
lover, and the look she gave me was enough to make anyone; man or woman,
melt.
"I wish I brought my toys..." She whispered, and placed a kiss on
my cheek, just at the corner of my lips. Her voice was deep and hoarse,
an aroused whisper only meant for those lucky enough to spend a night
with her. "I'd wear my strap-on and fuck this pussy raw..."
She was making me incredibly wet. This woman knew how to read my
body like a book, the way she touched me, the way she talked to me. My
mind flashed back to how she coaxed me into screaming in the public
bathroom stall, and how my body had gone so mad with pleasure I would've
done anything she commanded. Now with the mental image of her wearing a
toy and taking me harder than my ex ever did...well, I was very quickly
finding myself falling into the same pit of uncontrolled arousal. My
hands fell on her shoulders and my fingernails dug into her flesh, which
made her give a cat-like yowl of delight.
There I knelt on the bed, rocking back and forth in place,
creating a tiny pool of moisture into Karen's hand. Every now and again
a finger would "slip" and end up inside of me, but she kept these teases
to a minimal, and each time placated me with another fierce and messy
kiss.
I dropped my hands down, and clawed the bra away from her tiny
breasts, sending the garment soaring across the room to strike the hotel
window. I gazed down with a hungry look, and before I could stop myself
a nipple was within my lips, and my tongue was battering down on it with
a relentless, merciless fury. Her breasts were so tiny that it was
difficult to get a full fist of them, but I made due by slipping my hand
underneath each with my palms flat against her abdomen, pushing them up
and into my slobbering mouth.
By now the room was filled with our noises, mixed moans coming
from two young women who needed each other in a sexual desperation. As
our foreplay continued other garments were thrown aside, including
Karen's jeans, her panties, and my shirt and bra. In a matter of
minutes we went to nothing but socks, naked and hot and rolled up in a
filthy hotel blanket.
I was on my back now with Karen atop me, and my arms were wrapped
tightly around her waist with each hand planted on a cheek of her rump.
She giggled with delight as I squeezed and dug in my nails, and she made
me squirm with ravenous licks and nibbles across my breasts. Mine were
much bigger than hers so she had plenty of room to work with, and that
wide smile of hers found a worthwhile purpose wrapped around one of my
stiffened nipples. My head bucked back with brown and pink hair
whipping around, and my hips arched as I gave a cry of eager passion.
Every now and again she'd suckle just the right way, with the fingers of
her other hand stroking the perfect spot on my flesh, and it'd cause
another wild buck from my body. Our legs danced together, entwining and
squeezing and rubbing, and every now and again I gave Karen's ass a firm
squeeze to let her know I hadn't forgotten about it.
Karen was tall and skinny, so it was easy for her to maneuver even
inside of the tight wrap of blanket we found ourselves in. When she
left my breasts and began to move I was initially disappointed, but when
I saw what she had in mind all of my worries were quickly put to rest.
Karen's upper half had disappeared underneath the blanket, and just as I
felt her breath against the lower half of my stomach, her lovely hips
were coming in towards my face. Before I could speak a word of support
or protest she had brought her knees down at either side of my shoulder,
and a beautiful, sweet smelling mound was lowered onto my lips.
Never had I done anything like this, but in that moment I was
simply swept up into the passion. Hungrily my face lunged for her
valley, and I began by forcing my tongue through the folds near the top,
eager to lick the brass ring of her excitement. Once I found the nub
amidst the layers of lovely pale pink, I battered it ferociously with my
tongue while pursing with my lips, giving it a slow sucking as I so
fervently lashed it. I could hear muffled moans from inside the rolled
up blanket, just as the touch of her large hands spread out across my
inner thighs. I paused in my licking, and my breath caught in
anticipation of what came next.
When I felt her tongue first touch my clit, I thought I was going
to scream forever. My hips bucked from the affection and I thrashed
violently around, her tongue had touched me so teasingly and delicately
that it made my entire body ache. My scream was soon muffled though,
for my little Karen seemed to be impatient and had forcibly lowered her
moistening pussy down on my face. My world quickly became her juice,
her flesh, and I couldn't be happier. Tongue lashing wildly I covered
as much area as I could, nowhere near the delicate touch she was taking
with mine. If it tasted like Karen, I wanted to lick it as much and as
hard as possible, and to that extent my lover was thoroughly enjoying
it.
On paper, it wasn't an equal lovemaking session. For every minute
of almost violent devouring that I performed on her, I'd be rewarded
with a lick, or a tap, or a faint kiss on the very edge of my lips.
Doesn't quite seem fair, does it?
In truth, it was more than fair. Karen touched and licked with
such precision that I wouldn't have been surprised if she spent those
minutes studying my body, analyzing where the perfect spot to touch me
was. She couldn't have simply guessed, for each lick was like she had a
radar to my body, each one made my muscles jerk and convulse like I was
being electrocuted. So the only answer HAD to be that she spent those
long, touchless minutes studying.
Well, studying and screaming. For as much as I enjoyed her, I'll
be damned if she didn't enjoy me.
We were two different entities. Slow and precise versus wild and
passionate. Perfectly serving each other, one flailing and the other
focusing, filling more needs than we even knew we had. With every
second of my rampant licking Karen's pussy grew more wet, and before
long my mouth was simply a mess of fluid, lines of her nectar running
down my cheeks in dozens of small streams. And conversely, with every
pinpoint touch she delivered to me I felt my own floodgates straining.
Hairline cracks were appearing in my dam, and each bit of pressure made
the structure more unsound. Hers was a steady season's worth of
rainfall. Mine was a building flood.
Speaking of liquid and spit and cum juice and wet things, there's
something very tactile in these moments I never see anyone write about.
Sweat. Karen was latched onto me in a sixty-nine, half of her
underneath the blanket we were tightly encased in. She was sweating
like mad from the heat and the excitement, and I was certainly doing my
fair share. It's so erotic, two glistening and moist bodies clinging to
one another. Every time my hand would cross over her waist, and I'd
feel the faint sliding tendency thanks to how slick our bodies
were...well, there was something oddly intimate about it that made me
even more excited.
So there we were. Entwined, soaking wet both outside and in,
screaming amidst muffled barriers. It wouldn't be long before we both
finally exploded, and it was Karen to first vocalize those thoughts. I
heard her cry from underneath the covers, a shattering pulse of
delightful voice that destroyed any doubts I had that Karen was enjoying
the pleasure I gave her.
"Oh, Godfuckdamnit!" As she shouted her body suddenly convulsed,
and I felt her muscles tighten and convulse around my face. For a
moment it became very hard, but very very enjoyable, to breathe. Almost
suffocated in her intoxicating smell, I thrashed around in rapturous joy
as Karen came by means of my attention. It was a wet orgasm, sloppy and
sweet and delicious. As I felt her flavor smearing across my face,
soaking into everything from my tongue to my hair to my pores, I knew
there was no way I could become more of a part of her. It was enough to
make me burst, as well.
Well...that, and the sudden bite. Right after Karen shouted she
jerked her head forward, and I felt her teeth sink deep into the inside
of my right thigh. It hurt like hell, but in a visceral, sexually
delightful fashion. When I felt my skin being so tightly pinched
between her teeth, and two of those slender flingers slide almost
instantly inside of me...there was no holding back.
I came like a goddamn freight train.
If I yelled something, I don't remember what it was. Probably
some incomprehensible stream of flashing random words laced with
vulgarity, like "Fuck chair cunt chute cum cellphone." To this day,
Karen insists that I shouted that I loved her then and there. I totally
don't remember it, but who the hell knows? Not to ruin the ending, but
I've told Karen I love her a thousand times since then, several hundred
of those taking place mid orgasm. Maybe she's just confusing it with
when we fucked on a Skeeball lane a few weeks ago, or maybe I really did
lay all my cards on the table that quickly. I wouldn't be surprised.
I love her now, and I loved her that first night.
And for the record, I hosed her down like she was a peace rally
protestor and I wasn't cleared for lethal force. Some of it she
swallowed up, some of it soaked her hair, some of it became the wet spot
she forced me to sleep on that night. What can I say? When it's been a
while since you've been touched by someone that knows how to do it, some
orgasms can just knock your fucking head off.
And that's about it! After we laid there in that position for a
few minutes, recovering from what we had just done, Karen finally swung
her sweaty body around so that we could lay stomach to stomach once
more. She rested on top of me and put her head on my shoulder, and I
felt myself instinctually holding my arms around her waist, assuming the
role of the masculine one in the romance. A few kisses, whisper faint
and delicate, and then a few shared quiet words to help solidfy the
sudden sweetness in our post-orgasmic bliss.
"Sweet dreams, Karen."
"Good night, Sammy."
Her words must've been enchanted, because they've all been good
ever since.
Back to Original Fiction Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction