Big City Girl Ch. 01

"Oh? Why did you chuckle?"

"You didn't finish your sentence: 'as good as ...'," I replied, knowing I was leading her on, curious to find out if my first thought could have been correct.

It was a long moment before she replied: "We taste better."

Was she suggesting that I ask more, I wondered, suggesting that I should think that "we" wasn't just our already having agreed that we liked the taste of our own pussies? I replied:

"You said that before. Uh, ... just you and me, each of us tasting ourselves ... as good has Jim did?

Hester giggled and after a moment murmured:

"Can't taste ourselves the way he and Bob did."

"We sure can't," I agreed with a chuckle, then was surprised at myself when I added:

"Besides, they didn't just like to taste us, liked to lick us."

"Um-hmm! That's so good!"

"It sure is," I agreed, then murmured: "Or did you mean how good it was for them?"

"Maybe, why not, if they enjoy it, like to lick us," Hester replied.

My thighs twitched together again in response to her remark. I murmured:

"You think so?"

"Of course! It must be good, as good as sucking their cocks."

She really was suggesting that she was thinking about licking a pussy? Mine?

"Don't you think so?" she asked softly.

She wanted me to want to lick her pussy?! Damn! My thighs clamped together. When I didn't reply, after another long moment, she almost whispered:

"I know it's good."

She really wanted to, no question, and she had already! She had licked another girl's pussy, and a girl had licked hers as good as Jim had! Damned thighs! They had clamped together again, squeezing my moistening pussy. I murmured:

"Kind of beginning to think you must."

"Um-hmm, it is good. Don't know if I like to more than they do -- our men -- but I like to."

"Sounds like you do. Hmm? How did that start?"

"Sophomore year, but ... I've gone all wet; rather tell you later."

"Mmmm, mine too," I admitted, adding more softly: "You want to?"

I heard her licking her lips. She must have wanted me to hear, as wet as it sounded, arousingly so. My thighs twitched together and then apart. I didn't have to reach down to know how wet my pussy was, but my fingers already had -- very. If I had wanted to tell her that I didn't want her to, I couldn't have now, but I didn't want to. I wanted a tongue -- any tongue -- to arouse me better than my fingers were starting to. I heard her covers move as she murmured: "I do."

Had my question been an invitation? In the few moments, before she was moving my covers aside, I thought that maybe I was BCG about sucking cocks, but that she was one about licking pussies. How was she going to lie down, between my thighs? I drew my hand off my pussy.

Her knee came on the bed next to my shoulder. Like that, like with Bob when he had gone down on me. I moved back to let her join me, her head on my thigh, as she lay down next to me. Automatically, I raised my head and let her thigh draw up under it and rolled over towards her.

"You don't have to," she murmured, as her hand drew my hip closer to her face.

Did I want to, did I not want to? I wondered. replying

"You said yours was all wet."

"Um-hmm," she agreed, sliding her head closer up my thigh.

Her hand was urging my other leg to draw up over her head, passed it, and then I felt her tongue on my pussy. She was really going to do it, she was! Her tongue was sliding between my pussy lips. I moaned. She chuckled and remarked -- stifled from where her mouth was:

"You do taste as good as me," and then her tongue was finding more to taste.

I moaned with a nod and grasped her hip. She didn't need my hand to encourage her to move her leg; it swung up past my head, and her hips rolled forward. Yes, I wanted to, had to taste her pussy, like her tongue was tasting mine! I grasped her hip and slid my cheek on her smooth thigh.

If all the girls at Sarah Lawrence liked to do it, ...? Her already wet pussy tasted so good. I didn't need feeling what her tongue was doing to suggest what mine should do. We both moaned deeply; it was so arousing to know that we both were enjoying the same sensations -- in our pussies and with our tongues.

Licking a pussy, my tongue discovering how it felt to find where I knew Hester's pussy wanted to be licked, it was as arousing as it had been when I was sucking a cock, better, more arousing, knowing just how it was feeling for her. Was her pussy a little different from mine? Was her clitoris more prominent than mine was, or did it just seem like it, since my tongue could explore it better than my fingers could mine? I had always liked how it felt for my fingers when they were rubbing it or inside my pussy, but it felt even better for my tongue, and it tasted so good! And her tongue felt more arousing than my fingers, but I knew that from guys' licking my pussy.

I moaned, and she responded with a chuckling moan; she had known that I would like it, not just what she was doing, that I also would enjoying licking her pussy. I was!

I slid my other hand under her waist and grasped her ass with both hands. Her head nodded on my thigh, and she did the same. Our hips curled up, and we both sighed with long moans, and then our tongues were doing everything they could to give each other an orgasm.

They did, much better than what my fingers could do, and better than what the guys had done. And her very wet orgasm was as rewarding as making a cock come in my mouth, except that most of her pussy juice was all over my face, but it tasted so good. I tried to tell myself that my orgasm hadn't been better than Bob's fucking me, but I wasn't sure.

We relaxed with long sighs, rubbing the cheeks of each other's ass. I was wondering if Hester expected I would say something. Should I tell her that it had been so good, that I had liked it? That seemed so obvious, and I was still a little shy about admitting it. Girls -- even BCGs -- were supposed to like sex with men; I did, very much, but also as much with another girl?

While I was rationalizing to myself: why not, if the other girl also liked sex with men as much as I did, Hester began to move, sliding her thigh from under my head. Was she just going back to her bed without saying anything? Oooh! No, she was turning around on the bed, her hands on both side of me, as she crept up over me. What now? I could only roll back and let her. Her legs were straddling one of mine, and then, with a chuckle, she was lying on me -- two naked women's bodies on each other, breasts pressed together. Then I felt the warmth of her face on mine, and her mouth was finding mine!

Okay, if we could lick each other's pussy, we could share a kiss afterwards -- kind of appropriate, now that I had accepted that I liked that we had. Her wet, soft lips felt good, but then I felt the tip of her tongue between them. Kiss like that? Instinctively, my tongue was already responding, before I could object, and then I didn't want to; my tongue was as eager to caress as hers was. She moaned, and her hips rocked down on mine.

Was she still aroused, aroused again already? Was I? My arms were clasping her body to mine, and my thighs were drawing up, one between hers and the other one pressing her thigh against it. Her hips rocked down again, and she hummed with a chuckle, thrusting her tongue in my mouth, as her thighs squeezed together on mine.

She couldn't want to do it again, but when her thighs relaxed, mine drew up even further, as far as it could between hers, right up in her crotch, and her hips rocked again -- rubbing her pussy on my thigh? Did I want to feel her thigh on mine, didn't I want to? I was sucking on her tongue.

She retrieved it and moaned, then chuckled and murmured:

"God, that was good; I almost could again."

Her thighs squeezed mine again. Now completely accepting that I wanted to again, in response, I squeezed her thigh and replied:

"Sure seemed like it, but not tonight."

"Mmmm, no, but we will."

"Um-hmm!" I agreed.

She gave me a light kiss and slid off me, lying with her thigh still over mine, and her hand found my breast. Nice, I thought, recognizing that it was smaller than Bob's hand. After a moment, I asked:

"And sophomore year?"

"Hm-hmm! Tell you next time. Good night."

"You too."

I dozed off, still a little surprised at what I had done, but it had been too good to question that I didn't want to do it again. In the night, I was awakened when she went back to her bed, just remembering what we had done, as I rolled on my side and went back to sleep.

In the bathroom in the morning, when Hester smiled and pursed her lips, I did and then asked:

"Do all Sarah Lawrence girls?"

"All? All the ones I was with, really only a few. Oh, I know there were some that definitely disapproved, their problem."

I chuckled with a wry smile and replied:

"I might have too, kind of thought like that about the rumors of what some girls did in my college."

"You didn't last night."

"Not for long," I agreed with a grin.

We were both naked. Hester snickered and squeezed my breast. I reached out and held hers. She hummed and said:

"I like to suck them," and rubbed my nipple.

"I will too," I agreed, already imagining how her nice nipple would feel between my lips.

We got dressed and had breakfast -- with a few promising smirks -- and went to our jobs. I had trouble concentrating during my work, distracted by flashbacks to the weekend about Hester. After a couple of those, I made an effort to remember what Bob and I had done. That wasn't lessdistracting, but thinking about Hester was more promising: would she want to do it again that evening, and tell me how it had started sophomore year? We didn't masturbate every night, so maybe she wouldn't want to, but I sure could. My thighs snapped together under my desk. But she had said that she almost could have again. Was I going to have to suggest it this time? I could ask again about what happened sophomore year.

Going back to our flat after work was almost as bad as anticipating a good date -- moist panties. That didn't matter with a date, even if they were sopping. By then, his cock was bulging in his pants between us -- or already with my hand holding it through his pants. What would Hester think, however, if she knew that my panties were already moist? Or would hers also be? Had she also been distracted all day by flashbacks about what we had done? Even if hers also were, we couldn't just strip off our clothes the moment we were together again, not waiting until we normally went to bed. Then we certainly would, however it started, and if I had to tell her I wanted to lick her pussy again -- that she should mine, of course. What had happened her sophomore year could wait.

It wasn't just my panties; I should have worn different bra under my light blouse. The doorman was going to like seeing me. If he wanted to, a man; I drew my shoulders back as I entered the building and gave him a smile, seeing his eyes drop down to the little bumps in my blouse. I liked that he had seen them, and my nipples had too. They and I still liked attracting a man's attention.

Waiting for the elevator, I glanced down and saw that they had relaxed, however. In the elevator, I rubbed my fingers over them, now appreciating that my light blouse and thin bra let my nipples feel my fingers, and vice versa then, that my fingers could feel that they were stiff again.

As usual, I was back before Hester, whose office was further away. Sitting on the toilet, I slid my panties past my knees and kicked off my shoes, and then flipped my panties up with one foot and caught them. I snickered as I felt that the crotch was moist. I didn't just wipe; at the washbasin, I pulled up my skirt and washed my pussy with my washcloth.

As I was drying myself, I heard Hester unlock the door. I quickly hung up my towel, realizing that I couldn't find a fresh pair of panties without her noticing. I replied to her greeting and put my moist panties in the hamper. When I left the bathroom, she smiled with a shrug and said that she also had to go. I left her alone, but wondered if -- hoped that? -- her panties were also moist.

Did it feel different not having panties on under my skirt, or did I just imagine that it did? It did feel different, feeling my skirt moving on my naked ass, as I walked to the kitchen then realizing that Hester could see that I had left my shoes in the bathroom, if she hadn't already noticed that I was barefoot. I hadn't done that before, so she must think there was a reason why I had. Did I want her to think of the only reason that I could imagine? I rubbed my skirt on my ass with my hand, enjoying how it felt on my naked skin. I opened the fridge and called to her, asking if she wanted a beer. We hadn't done that before, having a beer as soon as we both were home on a weekday evening.

"If you want one," she called back. I opened two cans, and she joined me. Without looking, I knew she was also barefoot -- no sound of her shoes, her that little bit shorter than with them. I handed her her beer. She took it with a slight smirk and glanced down at our bare feet. I did too, seeing her wiggle her toes, as she remarked:

"Good idea: the beers and no shoes."

We drank, smiling, smirking slightly at each other. I felt my nipples tighten again. Did she see them, is that why she smirked again and took another sip? I had one. She had another one and said:

"That was good -- last night. Are you sure you haven't before?"

"Very! Very good and very sure I haven't, but I knew what guys have done," I replied, then added: "and what you were doing."

I smirked slightly and took a sip of beer. She nodded with a chuckle and had a sip, then said:

"Yeah, girls don't need anyone to tell them what to do."

"Sure don't," I agreed with a smile, wondering if I could ask what happened her sophomore year. It seemed almost appropriate to ask, our talking about girls' not having to have any experience to do it the first time. I took deeper breath and remarked:

"Like your sophomore year."

Hester gave me brief, more intense glance, then snorted with nod, smiling. Then she chuckled again and said:

"And most of us -- three of us, we were four in the room -- had only heard about it, that some guys did it. Oh, don't think we all immediately did that evening."

"I wasn't, yet, but the fourth girl had?"

"Are we going to have supper?" Hester asked.

"If you tell, and we have two more beers."