Marathon Girl Ch. 02

I had her. I knew right then what to do. I knew where to rub ... when to splay the folds of her pussy back to expose exotic sweetmeats ... how to work the tip of her wonderfully hooded clit into my mouth and rub it with my tongue ... how to roll a finger up inside her while I stroked the clit with my other hand ...

It was like I'd known it all along.

But she had one more thing to teach me.

*****

How long this had all gone on, I couldn't tell then and I damned sure can't tell now. But once I'd brought her off for what felt like the third time, she sat up like a shot ... a lost look in her eyes as she pulled my mouth to hers. The taste – whiskey mixed with our own juices – is something I can still remember ... perhaps the raunchiest blending of flavors I could ever imagine.

Then she leaned me back, spreading me wide. I was a little sore at that point, and not sure if I could handle another going-over with her lips and tongue. But then she spread her own legs, mingling them with mine and pulling herself tight up against me.

I stared, breathless. I'd never really even imagined such a thing.

Then she grinned a little, twisted her hips ever so slightly, and our cunts were pressed against each other.

Tightly.

Then, still smiling, she braced herself and began rotating her hips in a tight circle. Soon, my body figured the rhythm and began grinding up against her.

It wasn't long after that we were both seeing an entirely different, more intense set of sparks fly.

*****

We held each other a long time after that. The next day, after we showered and brushed our teeth, we went about our day as normal ... no mention of the hours of Sapphic pleasure we'd enjoyed the night before. No winks, no nudges, no quick kisses.

We were just gals, after all.

That said, we did it twice more before the team returned to school.

We did it about four times on road trips afterwards. Each pattern similar ... no mention of it, just joking friends until the door closed on our hotel room. Then, she'd approach me with that look in her eye – the look I didn't see anywhere else – and kiss me with a passion that staggered me.

I actually longed for those trips sometimes.

It ended badly, of course. My boyfriend came to visit me during a meet and I pretty much blew her off ... in a very immature, crude manner. I'd hurt her, but she bounced back. We remained friendly until the end of the season, friendly enough that I'd hoped we'd be able to take back up once indoor track season started.

But she transferred to a smaller school closer to her hometown and I quickly lost touch with her.

It wasn't until I was retelling the story to Renee that it occurred to me I still think of her anytime I taste whiskey.

*****

Renee was staring at me, quite intently.

The story had taken longer to tell than I'd thought it would. It had included much more detail than I'd had planned. We'd finished two more drinks. The place had largely emptied out.

Renee was leaning her chin on her palm. I noticed her cleavage was accentuated when she did that.

I had a lump in my throat.

"Wow," Renee said weakly.

I said nothing. I sipped margarita. It was warm.

"Do they let you smoke in here?" I asked, my head feeling cloudy.

"No ... no smoking," Renee said.

"Oh."

Renee raised a hand and hailed our curvy little waitress. "We should go somewhere where we can smoke," she said. "Check."

*****

So, about fifteen minutes later we were at Renee's place. I was on the couch. She was straddling me and we were making out like homecoming dates.

I loved her feel. She was soft all over, her lips big and inviting. She was a wicked French kisser and her hands knew just the right amount of twist to apply to each nipple.

We were still fully clothed, though, and I was still trying to equate that to not having lost control of the situation.

"I've wanted to do this so long," Renee was telling me, but I didn't care. I wanted that tongue back in my mouth, on my neck ... my nipples?

My body purred with the suggestion, but I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn't part of the agreement. It was a violation of the rules ... E. deserved to know beforehand ...

She popped my bra open and my second thoughts beat a hasty retreat. Just for a second, I told myself.

Renee pulled my shirt up, exposing my breasts to the light of her apartment. The whole place smelled of lavender, which I don't typically care for but who gave a fuck?

She raked that wicked tongue across one nipple, then the other, then painted swirls around the left one.

I felt my panties flush.

I moaned.

Renee took that as encouragement and pulled me closer, cupping my breast with one hand and reaching around and tightening on my ass through my pants.

We kissed again. That glorious tongue once more. Hot and wet.

Renee broke just long enough to pull her sweater up and over her head. Her bra was black and entirely too small, her ample tits threatening to spill over the top of the fabric.

I had to free them, right?

The clasp was in front and I undid it, and her breasts spilled free, but didn't sag as much as I'd expected.

A glorious pair. How had I NOT noticed all these years.

I rolled my hands across her nipples, which were large but crowned with tiny nubs. I took one in my mouth and it rapidly became not so tiny.

It was her turn to moan now. I liked the sound. I liked MAKING her make that sound.

Still, that nagging voice in the back of my consciousness. This wasn't right.

Renee shifted her hips (causing her thigh for one, electrical moment, to rub across my pussy ... I almost came right then), placed her hands under me and flopped me over on my back. She slid up my torso, those wonderful tits rubbing up against my, much smaller, pair.

She kissed me again, harder. I was pressed back into the cushions.

Her hands went low, unbuttoned my pants and started to tug on the fly.

Abruptly, my conscience kicked in.

I pushed her back, gently at first, harder as she resisted. I wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled it back. Then, with a force perhaps a notch or two beyond what was necessary, I pushed her to the side.

She blinked dumbly, like a bomb blast survivor trying to figure out where their home had gone. "What's ... what's wrong ...?"

"We can't," I told her evenly. I didn't want to make it sound, even a little, as if I could be talked into it ... because I clearly could've been.

She rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. Then, "Are you serious?"

"I am," I said, more quietly and softly this time. "It's not fair to E. If he clears it, no problem, but until then ..."

Slowly, she propped herself up on an elbow, pulling a little closer. "I've got a telephone right over there ..."

I hadn't thought of that, but I shook my head, anyway. "Not this ... I'm going to have to talk to him, face-to-face ..."

Renee made a pained face and flopped back onto her back. Her nipples were still kinda moist from my saliva.

"Don't think this isn't hard for me, either ..." I told her.

"Yeah, I know," she said, and sounded earnest. "I just ... haven't wanted anyone this badly in a long, long time ..."

I realized that's how I felt, too. I realized what the drive home would be like ... how could I have this conversation with E. half-drunk and wayyyyy horny like this? I'd have to pull off to the side and ...

The idea suddenly crystallized in my imagination.

"Okay ... okay," I started. Renee looked over, a little detached, but curious. "Okay, this is what we can do ..."

I stood up, walked to the loveseat kitty-korner to her couch, pulled it around some, then stood up straight. "I can't touch you any more, okay? That'd be ... unfair." I finished the work Renee had started and slipped my pants off ... then my panties ...

Renee's eyes almost bugged.

"But I have to finish myself off, and ... well ... that's what I'm going to do and you can watch, help yourself out, or talk to me ..." I sat down, spread my legs wide, and dropped my right hand down to my upper thigh. My voice dropped to a rasper whisper. "Just don't get off that couch."

For a second, I had no idea what she was going to do. But, then, slowly, she visibly warmed to the task.

Within 30 seconds, we were both completely nude ... Renee sported a somewhat surprising Brazillian cut that made her pussy look even tastier. I focused on it as she began stroking herself.

"This is so fucking wild," Renee said in her own harsh whisper.

"I bet that pussy tastes fantastic," I told her, my index finger finding my clit.

Renee rubbed her own index finger in between her folds and lifted it to her lips. "Mmmmm," she told me.

Any plans we had to dirty talk then went out the window. I felt my body click into overdrive and then it was just a short, downhill ride to a magnificent, body-wide climax that seemed to last days.

I think Renee was far closer than I was, and she started sooner, and seemed to finish later, too. Her body glistened with a light coat of sweat as she finally completed her task.

"That wasn't ... bad," she finally stammered out.

I nodded mildly, also breathing a little hard. "Not bad at all."

We dressed. I had some coffee. We looked a little uncomfortable.

Before I left, she stopped me. "So, you'll ask him?"

I nodded. Suddenly it was a scarier idea than it had seemed before.

"Soon?" She continued.

"Tonight," I said, my voice a little dry.

"Let me know what he says because, well, I really want to do this with you, y'know?"

I nodded. I did know.

We hugged, strangely a platonic clinch, and I went out to the car. I even cried a little, and I wasn't entirely sure why.

*****

Not right away, but after a short time, E. forgave me.

First I let go some of the bigger stuff I hadn't even told Renee about ... like how I'd violated the rules by seeing one of the boys three times. Once in a threesome E. had known about (only not that this particular guy was involved) and once when E. was out of town at a conference. I made it clear I hadn't seen the guy at all (despite opportunities) in over a year.

E. was kinda pissed. I understood.

He was, predictably, excited about my dalliances with my own gender. I told him about Violet and he loved that story, again, as you'd expect.

When I told him what had happened between Renee and myself, he got really mad for the first time in a long time.

I explained nothing serious had happened, just some petting and kissing (I left out the masturbation scene for the moment) and stressed I'd called it off before it went too far.

"Renee? Why the hell does it have to be Renee?"

I explained about the condom again, and just how we'd been drunk and ...

He stalked off. He didn't want to hear it.

And this time, when I cried, I knew exactly why.

*****

E., as is his custom, came around in about an hour. We cuddled. We talked some more. He asked more details about my college exploits (I told him about a dean's wife I'd once hooked up with at a Christmas party.)

That pushed him over the edge, and we fucked a good, long time. Make-up sex. Yum.

Afterwards, we lay in the dark. My heart thudding lightly.

"I can't let this go entirely, you know," he said then.

My heart seized. "What do you mean?"

"I mean ... I think we should put a stop to the men ... for, I dunno, until the end of the school year?"

My heart resumed. I had a way out. "Is this my punishment?"

"Consider it that if you like. I'm not into spankings."

I rolled my ass in the sheets. "Too bad, master."

"Stop it."

"Okay, I accept my punishment."

More silence. Then, I chimed in, "I notice you said ‘no men.' "

"I did."

"Women ..?"

He sighed. "That's up to you ... except ... y'know ... not Renee, okay?"

I was disappointed, but he was being way cool about this. I agreed.

Then we made love again.

*****

Renee took it like a champ, although I think it cannonballed any chance of her and E. ever getting along. She took a job with a rival company across town six months later and I hardly ever see her anymore.

She looks good when I do, though.

As for me, I served my guy-free sentence like a good girl ... helped out by the fact I placed an online personal (something I never thought I'd do) and met a series of really hot, really fun women.

Mainly we just hang out, watch movies, maybe go dancing.

Mainly.

The rest of the time ... well ...