Andrea

“I am yours, baby, I am yours….”

I sat up and admired her body as she lay there, her tits heaving as she struggled to get her breath back. From the lounge the Stylistics were singing You Make Me Feel Brand New, rather appropriately. I stroked myself, my own pussy was dripping and I spread my cunt juice all over between my legs. I started working on my clit, stroking it.

“Don’t do that, Aimee baby, don’t do that. Give me a sec to get my breath back and I’ll do that for you.”

So I lay next to her, running my hands over her high tits, over her smooth, flat belly. A while later she propped herself on one elbow and started kissing me and fingering me. I spread myself wide to give her complete access, to allow her to reach my pussy, to reach into me.

She worked me well, pulling my clit, teasing it. She put a finger into my cunt, first one and then another, reaching deep into me. Without taking them out she started moving her finger tips in a circular motion, rubbing a place in the front of my cunt. The pleasure this gave me was shocking and I held my breath. She sucked my tongue, pulling it out of my mouth and slipping her lips over it, like it was dick. As she massaged my inner puss, she sucked my tongue, faster and faster. I could feel my orgasm building instantly, but from deep within me, like I never felt before. Before I could warn her, my puss went into orgasmic spasm, hard till it almost hurt, deep and hard like a clenching fist, clamping her fingers. I couldn’t breathe as I came, my body bouncing off the bed and an intense burst of pleasure spreading from my puss and then all over my body. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t talk so I surrendered to the power of my coming as it wracked my body and twisted it and bounced it.

I don’t remember much after that. I know I heard Debra Cox singing Nobody Is Supposed To Be Here – yeah right, but I was exhausted. As I fell asleep – or passed out – I remember wondering if she had hit my G-spot. Did she? Where did that mother of all orgasms come from….and I was gone.

I awoke early the next morning and I could see by the quality of the light that it was probably about 6 or 6:30 and Andrea, bless her soul, was busy with me yet again. Oh no, I thought, its morning and the craziness of last night cannot extend into the soberness of the new day. I was lying on my tummy, my legs were splayed and I could sense that she was squatting between them. Her tongue was slowly travelling up the groove between my butt cheeks, tenderly leaving butterfly kisses. Not my butt, oh God, not my butt!

And so it was: she licked me in that secret groove, letting her tongue go up and down, lingering over my bum-hole, teasing and pressuring it gently. I was too self-conscious to move, never having been touched like this by anyone before. She continued licking me there and then she slid a finger into my cunt. I moved to allow her easier entry ands he said, “Aimee, my love, my baby, lay there and let me enjoy you….” I could feel her warm breath on my skin as she spoke and I obeyed her. I didn’t speak and I didn’t move again.

She licked me like that, eventually settling on actually sucking the butt-hole and finger-fucking me. I was dripping again, swollen again and I knew my orgasm was close. She was an intuitive lover and she sensed it too. She increased the pace and as I started coming she took another finger and gently penetrated my bum. It was wonderful – the feel of both her fingers in my holes was nothing I had ever felt before. My puss spasmed deliciously and I could feel my butt tighten on her finger with each throb. As I gained my breath I knew that it was her turn but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do for her what she did for me. But I would try, I would give of myself as she had given for me. I turned over and braced myself.

“Thank you,” I said, “Thank you that – it was wonderful. Can I do that for you?”

“No angel, no: I want you to watch me – I’ll play with myself but I need you to look. Will you?” Her voice was soft, understanding, and I marvelled at such maturity in one so young. I nodded and settled against the headboard to watch her.

She sat on the bed and raised her knees and parted her legs. In the brighter morning light her pussy looked even bigger. It was glistening, the folds between her big fat outer lips were wet. Her clit was swollen too, and she parted the outer lips so that I could see the light pink colouring of her inner pussy. She took her clit between two fingers, as if it were a tiny dick, and masturbated it while she held her cunt open. She half-closed her eyes and steadily stroked her clit.

“Oh Aimee – see what you do to me baby. Look how you make me big and swollen.” Her voice was low again, sexy and husky.

“Can I help, my sweet, can I hold your pussy open while you fuck yourself?” I was surprised at how husky I sounded, how dry my throat was. She nodded.

I leaned forward and took each of the inner lips in my hands and gently pulled them apart. They were soft and elastic and as I spread them I could see her cunt juice gathering at her pussy opening. Her finger dipped into it she rubbed it in a circular motion on her clit. Now that I leaned forward I could see that her clit actually looked like a miniature dick, especially with the hood pulled off it. She stroked faster and faster and I had difficulty in keeping her cunt open. “Look at me,” she said, her voice erratic, “look in my eyes…” I looked at her and she was the picture of erotica: her pert tits quivering, her eyes were glazed, her mouth open and her finger fucking her clit furiously. She took her finger, scooped some puss juice from her cunt and put in my mouth. “Taste me, eat me,” she moaned and I sucked her finger. She came then, saying “Ooooh Aimee baby!” and she thrust her hips forward onto her hand.

She collapsed on to the bed, a quivering gasping heap and I stroked her hair, muttering sweet nothings. We lay together for a while, the smell of our sex fragrancing the air, holding each other and stroking each other. We got up later and made a salad breakfast that we ate on my patio in the spring morning, crisp and fresh. We spoke of children, of family, work and friends.

When she was ready to go back to RAU, she reached into her sling bag and gave me a wrapped up parcel.

“A prezzie for you,” she smiled, “to open when you get back.”

“But I didn’t get anything for you.” I protested.

She smiled. “Oh yes, you did baby, you gave me your cherry – the best present I could ever receive.” I hugged her, feeling in love like never before.

As we drove she looked animated, happy and buoyant. She babbled about finally finishing the long haul at RAU, about endings, about beginnings. I felt a sadness creeping over me, stealing into my glow.

We said goodbye briefly, which surprised me. We stood at my car and hugged. She said “Look after yourself, baby, be careful.” She kissed me quickly and was gone. I watched her walk off, a spring in her step, this lively, sensitive 21 year-old. Dear, sweet, sensitive Andrea. Sexy Andrea. She reached a corner, turned it without looking back and was gone.

Just like that.

We still speak occasionally but less and less as time goes by. There is distance between us now, greater than the one between Cape Town and Johannesburg. I wonder if she has someone new or if she re-united with an ex. I could have loved her, I know, as I loved her that precious, unforgettable night.

As for me, am I gay? Lesbian? I still don’t know because I have this confusing thing with Derek. He senses a new purpose in me, a new growth. I enjoy sex with him though, even if it doesn’t begin to approach the dynamite that is Andrea and Aimee. I still look at men, admire their butts but I look at women differently now.

There are some other things I’ve already done since then – and I’m still going to experiment with life, still get to know the adventurous Aimee that lies within. Bring her out, let her live, give her a chance she never had before.

And the prezzie Andrea gave me? Why, it’s her Nino’s T-shirt, of course. A lovely forest green T-shirt with Nino’s emblazoned in white on the pocket. I cherish it, wear it when I miss her so it feels like I’m hugging her. It smells of her, husky, sexy, sensitive Andrea.