Big City Girl Ch. 01

I had been on top once before -- with the guy who knew better how to lick my pussy. I had just dropped down over him, and we had fucked, but Bob held my hips down and let me just rock them. He moaned and I moaned; a cock didn't have to go in and out to feel arousing. Even better, I was more aware when my pussy squeezed it and felt it twitch; it was arousing for him too. He moaned, as though he were confirming my thoughts. He had wanted me to just rock my hips, must have known this would be good.

I moaned and did more than just rock my hips, moving them to and fro. He moaned again with a nod and murmured: "Yeah, like that."

His stiff cock twitched, and my pussy contracted, as I forced it back and forth in my pussy. His hands almost grabbed my breasts, and then his fingers found my aroused nipples. They rubbed and squeezed, scratching my goose bumps and pulling and twisting my so aroused nipples. I nodded with a moan and repeated his "Yeah, like that."

He did, almost hurting my nipples, but it was arousing, and I wanted to arouse him, rising up a little and circling my hips, churning his cock around in my pussy. We both moaned; it felt more arousing for me too, but not for long. His hands left my breasts -- my sore nipples -- and drew me down on him, as he muttered: "Fuck."

I did, he did, we did, our hips pounding together. I knew my pussy was clipping his cock, but the sensation was lost in that of feeling it thrusting so hard and fast in my pussy. We tried to kiss, but we both were having to gasp and groan. I began to whimper; I was so aroused, like a child demanding something -- my orgasm!

He grunted. My body convulsed! He was still grunting and fucking, but I had collapsed on him, my hips only twitching from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

His hips stilled, and we lay there, both gasping, now just moaning. His hands stroked up and down my back, caressing the cheeks of my ass. Then he murmured:

"God, that was good."

"It sure was, better than ..."

"Um-hmm," he agreed, when I had hesitated to continue my sentence.

He chuckled and caressed my ass, adding:

"Sure glad you wanted me to spend the night."

"Not more than I am," I agreed and raised my head off his shoulder, and we kissed lightly.

I felt a cramp coming in my leg, and rolled off him, stretching it out. We lay there, almost dozing. I was wondering if he would want to stay for breakfast.

Eventually we stirred and got up, smiling, humming as we looked at each other in the light of the new day. His cock was smaller now than any one I had seen before, smaller than it had been when we had been in the bathroom together. Then we were again. When I suggested showers, I didn't think about having one together. I still wasn't that much a Big City Girl. He smirked, but replied: "Better not, better not be here when Hester returns."

I nodded, that clarifying that I shouldn't suggest breakfast, and we both washed, he remembering to wash his face, after he smirked to remind me why, reminding me then that we hadn't just fucked so good -- a cock in my pussy longer than ever before -- but that he had also licked my pussy so good.

I watched him, correcting my thought about being a BCG; it was about having sex the first time a guy was in my flat and his staying all night and having more and better sex. Breakfast or taking a shower together would be just adjuncts to that.

When we returned to the bedroom and found our clothes scattered around, we grinned and picked them up. As he started to get dressed, I said that I was going to take a shower and didn't get dressed. He nodded, but when he pulled up his trousers, I suddenly felt very naked, blushing with aroused nipples. No guy had seen me by light of day all naked, and never when he wasn't. I wanted to cover them and my pussy with my hands, but didn't; a BCG shouldn't be embarrassed to let a man she had been in bed with all night see her naked. Bob, smiled and murmured: "Lovely."

That made me blush even more, but proudly, realizing that I had drawn back my shoulders, presenting my breasts and aroused nipples. He hummed and said:

"Don't tempt me. I better go before Hester finds me here, ... and also to surprise my flatmate."

We both chuckled, and I enjoyed being naked while I watched finish dressing, wondering if nude models for art classes enjoyed being seen by the class of students. It was really funny, when we embraced at the door, my naked body against his clothes when we kissed.

He left, and I went to take my shower. Did I really have to wash my pussy like that? I did, regretting that I hadn't experimented that summer in Europe with using a shower head on a hose to do what my fingers were. Of course, it wasn't as good at what he had done with his tongue, and I was a little chagrined that I could want another orgasm after what we had done. But I wanted one and got it with my experienced fingers -- not the first time in the shower.

Reluctantly, I got dressed and made my bed and had breakfast, wondering if Hester's night could have been as good as mine had been. She hadn't told me what she and Jim had done the previous week, just had grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Had she sucked his cock? I kind of hoped she hadn't, liking the idea that I might have done something she hadn't -- a BCG. It seemed unlikely that she hadn't, however. Sarah Lawrence was too close to the Big City, and the rumors about how liberal its students were, suggested that they did everything. I waited, cleaning house and wondering if Bob was telling his flatmate what we had done. Then it occurred to me to put a sheet on mattress of the sofabed.

I was just folding up the sofabed up, when Hester opened the door. She grinned with a smirk and asked: "You slept there? Good idea; guess he stayed the night."

I nodded, wishing my cheeks weren't flushing at her so direct remark, then replied:

"He did, but not here."

"Hm-hmm! Next time; must have been good."

"Um-hmm, very. Hope it was for you too."

"Oh yes, of course, college was never like this, having to be back in the dorm by one o'clock."

"Yeah, like at my college. Hm-hmm! He liked it too, also admitting that it was the first time -- all night."

Hester grinned and replied:

"Jim didn't say that, and I didn't, but it seemed like it wasn't last weekend, his suggesting we take a shower together and then making a good breakfast."

"Bob didn't want to stay for a shower or breakfast, not wanting to run into you downstairs."

"He wouldn't have, obviously; next time he can. Hm-hmm! And use the sofabed."

We both smirked, nodding, and she added:

"I'm glad it worked out. I was thinking it was unfair if only I was having all the fun."

"Just last weekend, not last night," I replied with pleased grin.

We didn't talk any more about that and took our laundry to the laundromat as usual, reading the paper while we waited. Back in the flat, we ironed and folded our things and put them away, then with smirks agreed that we could treat ourselves to a restaurant dinner. We went out again and found a small place near our building. The waiter was pleased to have two early guests. When he asked if we wanted wine, we looked at each other, shrugging, then nodding and ordered a glass of open wine. We had another one before we finished our meal and returned to our flat feeling pleased with ourselves.

We watched the news on TV and a film. As we were getting ready for bed, Hester chuckled and said:

"I know what I'm going to do."

"Hmm? Didn't get enough? I did."

"The more you get, the more you want."

Then I remembered that I had masturbated in the shower, just after Bob had left, and snickered, replying:

"Guess you're right. I did in the shower this morning."

"Hmmm! We didn't, not quite, but we had a good shower."

"Haven't done that yet."

"Next time, after you've done everything you could on the sofabed."

I smirked, pleased with myself, and said: "Didn't need the sofabed to do everything we wanted."

Hester chuckled with a smirk and nod and asked:

"Everything?"

"Everything I could think of, everything he wanted to do."

"And wanted you to do?"

"I sure hope so; he said it was good. I thought so too."

"We did too," Hester replied.

The quieter tone of her remark let me think that maybe she had been wanting to hear that I hadn't done "everything", but I had, disappointing her a little -- but both BCGs. We had done what we did in the bathroom and were back in the bedroom, taking off our underwear. As I was getting my nightie, she snickered and said cheerfully: "Don't know why we wear anything in bed. Didn't last night, of course. Just gets in the way."

She got in bed naked, giving me a grin. I was a little surprised, then wondering why I had never slept naked. I shrugged and returned her grin and turned out the light, also then naked in bed, feeling a little wicked, but if we both were going to play with ourselves and knew we were, it was only logical that we could be naked.

I heard the rustling of her covers and slid my hand down over my pussy, just holding my lips together, enjoying how they fit in my hand, just alternating pressure with my fingers, only slightly moving them against each other, as I began to recall what Bob and I had done. My fingers were about to do more, when Hester interrupted my reverie, murmuring:

"The more you get, the more you want, and more to think about."

I nodded, not replying, recognizing that she was right; I did have more to think about: his cock in my pussy, then -- closer to what my fingers could do -- his tongue licking it. My fingers did more, my pussy was wanting more. My fingers rubbed over my clitoris. I moaned, and Hester moaned. I wanted my fingers wet, like his tongue had been, and put them in my mouth, licking them, recalling how his cock had felt in it. Then my fingers were back rubbing, when I heard Hester licking hers. Had she heard that I had licked mine? She snickered and asked:

"Do you taste better than I do?"

"Not yet," I replied automatically.

"Me neither, not yet."

I rubbed. Of course, I knew how my pussy tasted when it was aroused. It tasted good, and Bob must have also thought so. Then I heard Hester lick her fingers again. She chuckled and murmured: "Now I do."

She moaned, and I wondered if she was using both hands, had licked fingers that had been in her pussy. Mine was now wet. My fingers slid down and probed -- nice and wet. I moaned. Two fingers weren't as good as his cock, but felt arousing. I moaned again and replied:

"Mine too, now."

"Tastes as good?"

Why did she want ask that, the comparison again? I licked my fingers again, enjoying the taste of my wet pussy, and replied:

"I don't know. Good, I like it, he liked it."

"I bet! Jim likes mine too. We taste good."

My fingers were back rubbing, while my other hand aroused my nipples. We exchanged moans, chuckling softly. It was arousing to know that we were both arousing ourselves and liked the taste of our pussies, but her questions had suggested that she could think all girls didn't taste the same -- her "as good." Maybe she was just teasing -- Sarah Lawrence girl. Or did she know they didn't, also a Sarah Lawrence girl?!

Of course, I had an idea of what lesbian women must do, but Hester certainly wasn't. I returned to fantasizing about what Bob's tongue could have been doing and trying to do that with my fingers. Then I heard Hester's hand making wet noises and almost slapping against her pussy, as she moaned louder. If she liked it that way, ...?

My other hand left my breast, and my fingers plunged in my wet pussy, two of them, three of them. - more like his stiff cock. I moaned, and my fingers fucked, not as deep as his cock had, but three fingers rubbed like it had, as the fingers of my other hand rubbed back and forth over my aroused clitoris. I moaned, and Hester moaned in response. It was being so good; both of us arousing ourselves with fantasies about what we had done the night before, about what Bob and Jim had done.

We both were moaning louder than before, exchanging aroused, throaty, chuckling moans. It was being so good, not just what my fingers were doing, but also that we both now were enjoying ourselves without restraint. It was arousing to hear that she was just as aroused as I was: her moans and the sounds her fingers were making in her wet pussy.

I had forgotten about Bob and his cock and was now thinking about what her fingers were doing. I knew that; they were doing what mine were, but I was now trying to envision her pussy. What did it look like; how could hers differ from mine? She could obviously make it wetter than I could mine. Was that better? It sounded like it, not just her wetter noises, her now uncontrolled gasps, holding her breath for a moment and then exhaling with higher pitched, pulsing moans. She must have suppressed them in the past, but she wasn't now!

My fingers did everything they could, as I hoped with our new abandon that I could also have a better orgasm than the other times we had been masturbating together. It was beginning to feel like it would be, and the fingers in my pussy were jerking like never before, inspired by the sounds hers were making. Now mine were also making moist noises. I began to gasp and moan; it was going to be better than ever before with her.

It was, but not before she had her orgasm. I heard her exclaim softly: "Fuck! Fuck!" Then I heard her bed springs move, and then her head slap back on her pillow, as she gasped, and then that happened again. Fuck! She was having such a good orgasm! I had to have mine! She was still gasping and exhaling with sharp, short moans: "Uhn!" gasp, "Uhn!" gasp, "Uhn!"

Could I make myself come that good -- with aftershocks? It had happened before, but only a couple of times. This time I did. My head didn't jerk up off the pillow, but my body convulsed, and when my fingers stilled, my body convulsed again a couple of times. Maybe I exaggerated my gasps and moans, or were they just more pronounced because, after hearing Hester's, I could let them be?

I was still recovering, when she remarked:

"Fuck! That was good. Sounded like yours was too."

"Um-hmm!" I agreed, pleased with myself and that she had thought so, but still not able to reply with words. But she did:

"Fuck! Best time without a man since before graduation."

Why "without a man," I wondered, and then wondered: why without one, but since "before graduation"? Had she had such a good orgasm without a man but with someone else before graduation, with a classmate, both of them doing what we had just done? They could have done it lots of times together, so probably. Oh, or her question about tasting better, ...? I remembered that I had heard her sucking her fingers while I was recovering, before she spoke.

She chuckled. I sucked the wet fingers that had been in my pussy. She chuckled again, and then I found my tongue and asked:

"'Without a man,' and 'since before graduation'? Like this?"

"Hm-hmm! Also -- 'like this'."

"You girls from Sarah Lawrence."

"Didn't girls at your college?"

"Didn't what? I had a single room."

"Roommates must have, 'like this'."

"Yeah, I guess they must have; all girls do. We knew that, but I hadn't really thought about roommates doing it together."

"They must have," Hester replied, then snickered and added: "also."

I remembered my question and her reply: "like this" and "also", recalling her question about whether I tasted better than she did. Was that what her "also" was suggesting, that roommates tasted each other's pussy. Did she want to taste mine, want me to taste hers?!

I hadn't been thinking about tasting hers, but I had to admit to myself that I had been wondering about it, how it could be different from mine and that she could make it so sloppy sounding wet. What did it taste like? Should I mind, if she wanted to taste mine? It wouldn't be any different from a guy's tasting it, and that had been good -- especially the couple that had really known how to lick it. The thought was becoming less shocking, but did I want to taste hers, lick her pussy?

I had been silent with those thoughts for a long moment, so long that Hester chuckled and remarked:

"That isn't all we did, ... if you were wondering."

"Hmm? It sounded like it: your 'also'."

"Um-hmm, we did."

"Not just 'like this'?" I asked for confirmation of my thoughts.

"Um-hmm," she agreed, sounding more reticent than I had expected.

Did she want me to ask? Did I want to, want to suggest that I understood what she was talking about, want to suggest that I could want to do what she and her roommate -- or whomever -- must have done? I drew a deep breath and asked:

"You did -- 'also', not just 'like this'?"

"Um-hmm, and better than, ... well, like I said, better than like without a man."

I almost blurted out:

"Better than without a man, but with a girl, as good as now?"

"Better."

"You do," I murmured for lack of another reply.

"We did. Girls know what each other like better than most guys."

"Hmm? I guess so," I admitted, remembering the boys who hadn't known what my pussy wanted.

"Jim did, does," Hester added.

"Bob sure did too," I agreed.

We both chuckled, then almost laughing after our tentative exchange. Hester then remarked:

"And girls taste better."

"All as good as we do?" I asked, only then realizing that I could be suggesting that I was curious about how her pussy tasted.

Was I? I wasn't sure, but the thought of tasting hers, and how I would -- licking it -- no longer shocked me aas much. If she and other girls liked to do that, and she said it was better than what she could do with her fingers and better than what most guys did, why shouldn't I let her lick mine? And if she and other girls liked to do it, and hers tasted as good as mine did, why shouldn't I like to?

My thighs twitched together; my pussy didn't have any problem about who wanted to lick it. I still wasn't so sure about wanting to lick hers, when Hester hummed and murmured:

"We all taste better."

"I sure do," I replied to my surprise, and then that I added:

"But I sure didn't mind how he tasted."

"You didn't?! I did it, but I don't really like it," Hester replied.

Maybe I was a BCG, I thought, pleased that I had liked Bob's coming in my mouth, apparently more than she had liked letting Jim come in hers. Feeling a little superior, I replied in a conciliatory tone:

"We taste better, at least I do."

"Me too," she responded.

Was she understanding that I was suggesting that she find out, or that I find out? My thighs twitched again. I was less sure that I didn't waant to, but changed the subject:

"Oh, it doesn't really taste good with him, just tastes the way it does, but I don't mind. I like to do it and know that it is being so arousing for him, and for me too."

"Mmmm! It is, for me too," Hester interjected, adding:

"And like you said, knowing it is being so arousing for him; he was moaning. Hm-hmm! Kind of gave me a sense of power, control."

"Um-hmm, like that; we're in charge, not like when we were just letting the guy stick it in and hoping it would be good."

"And sometimes it wasn't, not good enough, but not last night," Hester agreed.

"Not here, either."

"If you were doing it that good to him?"

"Oh, I think he wasn't sure I wanted to, but he did, and wanted it to be like that for me."

"Jim did too, as good as ..."

She broke off her sentence, letting me wonder if she had been about to say that he had licked her pussy as good as some girl had. I chuckled, not about that thought, but at recalling that Bob had wanted to lick my pussy after he had just come in it, neither of us disturbed by what we were going to taste. While I was finishing that thought, Hester caught her breath and said: