Pat and Jennifer Ch. 02

"We sure did, thank you, better than what I can do by myself."

"Hm-hmm! Want to try?" Pat replied.

Her hips rocked firmer against mine, implying that we try to give her a better orgasm than she could. I wanted to, but before I could reply, she shivered slightly with a disappointed sounding "uhm" and said: "Pussy has to do something else first."

Immediately, I felt that mine did too, and with snickers, we got up and rushed to the bathroom.

Immediately, I felt that mine did too and agreed. Snickering, we got up and rushed to the bathroom. I let her go ahead and use the toilet. She did, grinning at my twitching thighs, and suggested I go in the shower. I did, a little embarrassed about her seeing my stream arch out, but she just grinned again and said that she always peed in the shower in the morning. When she then suggested that we might just as well take our showers, that didn't surprised me, but I was surprised, when she immediately joined me. We both squealed at the first cold water, but when it was warm, she put her arms around me, and we embraced, breasts flattened together, our hips and thighs in firm contact, both humming as the water poured down on us.

Maybe neither of us would have let her hair get wet, if we had taken separate showers. Now our heads were wet, and we enjoyed washing each other, giving breasts and nipples, pussies and assholes more attention than necessary, exchanging warm chuckles, when the other's hands were there. When was I going to get to suck her nipples, I wondered, as my fingers enjoyed rubbing over them. The slogan: "Save water, shower with a friend," is just a joke, at least the way we did.

We enjoyed drying each other off, then each dried her own hair, forgoing using the hairdrier. As we returned to my bedroom, assuming we would get dressed, I asked: "Breakfast now?"

Pat grinned and replied: "If it tastes as good as you do," and glanced at our naked bodies and chuckled, adding: "al fresco?"

From her glance, I understood what she was implying and liked the suggestion that we stay naked, but snickered and said:

"If you want to eat outside; that's what 'al fresco' means."

"Oh, yeah, of course," she replied with chagrined expression, adding: "I meant just like this."

Her eyes took in our nudity again, and mine did. I nodded with a grin, and she did, and we left the bedroom. I had always had clothes on elsewhere in my flat and was suddenly aware that I felt very naked in the living room; my nipples had stiffened. Unconsciously, I brushed my arm over them, but then liked Pat's suggestion and all it implied: that we were going to have more sex together, and maybe not before we went to bed in the evening.

I almost chuckled at my spontaneous thoughts about that. She could complain that breakfast hadn't tasted as good as my pussy and want to taste it again. That would be very unfair, however, another orgasm just for me - but if she wanted to taste it that much? No, I wanted to taste hers - not to forget that I wanted to suck and lick her nipples - and I wanted to have my fingers in her pussy, even if she was right that hers felt the same as mine.

We started to make breakfast in my little kitchen, and I almost forgot about being naked - until I felt Pat's hand on my bare ass. My nipples stiffened again. Was I more aware of that than she would be, because my nipples were larger? God, it had felt good, when she had been sucking and nibbling on one! Yes, we were going to have more sex, and I wanted to have my mouth on hers. Her hand was still on my ass, fondling, in the brief moment those thoughts went through my head. I chuckled with a nod and smile, but not giving her a glance. A minute or so later, when one of my hands was free and her ass handy, I returned her fondle. She immediately chuckled and gave me a grin.

While we finished preparing breakfast, I had to wonder about my now complete acceptance of ... - admit the word - "lesbian" sex. Sure, I knew about it and had an idea of what girls must do with each other, but I had never ever considered that I would want to. I rationalized to justify my change of attitude that there was no reason why girls shouldn't enjoy each other that way. Fuck no! Wrong word, but it was so good, and better than that word sometimes. And we weren't really lesbians; we didn't love each other, just loved what we could do together. "Bisexual" sounded a little better, but "he" had better be able to do it as good as Pat could. With these thoughts, I carried the last things to the table, which Pat had set.

We sat down and smiled at each other, both a little wryly, seeing naked breasts across the table. I liked that I saw her nipples tighten, like I felt that mine had. When was I going to get to suck them?What was she thinking? She raised her glass of juice and said:

"Here's looking at us."

"At each other," I agreed and raised my glass, and we drank to that and began to eat. After a couple of bites, Pat shrugged and said:

"Maybe I should have listened to that girl freshman year, who obliquely suggested that girls didn't really need boys."

"Hmm? Maybe that was what a couple of girls in the showers after sports thought, who didn't make any pretense about their looking at other girls."

"At you, so your nipples stuck out?"

"I hope they didn't!" I replied, feeling that they had again, more aware of them, when Pat murmured:

"Nice nipples."

"Yours too," I remarked, pleased that hers also responded.

We both chuckled and ate some more. I felt that I should suggest another topic, but Pat spoke again:

"What happened after your cousin, now that you knew freshman, sophomore sex hadn't been really good?"

"It sure hadn't been. Yeah ... well ... Hmmm?" I hesitated, remembering, then grinned and said:

"I took care of that."

"Mmmm! Tell!" Pat demanded with a grin.

Junior year, fall semester, I started the course on Swedish literature, after two years learning the language. You know, coming from Minnesota, my family, parents wanted me to learn the language.

I was surprised to see a new face in the course, since all the other had been in the language course."

"A male face, of course," Pat suggested. I grinned with a nod and continued:

"Very male, looked younger, and was, but definitely a male, blond and tall. Maybe it was a good thing that he was younger, or one of the other girls would shown interest. Anyway, I talked to him, and he didn't mind. He was younger than I thought, advance placement, skipping frosh year, with enough Swedish to jump into the lit course.

"Oh, his name was Richard, his second name. His first name was very Swedish, Gösta, his grandfather's name, but he didn't use it, explaining that outside the family and Swedish community it was mispronounced and usually considered a girl's name. In grade school, a couple of times he had been put in the girl's group. He also came from Minnesota."

When I paused for a moment, Pat urged me on:

"Yeah, so his name was Richard, probably called Dick."

"He didn't like Dick, so he always introduced himself as Richard."

"But he had one," Pat remarked with a smirk.

"And if, if that is all you want to know?"

"No! What did you say: how you 'took care of that.'"

"Yeah, well ... , was I thinking about that, when I suggested we could do something together?"

"Probably," Pat interjected with another grin.

"I don't think so, when I said it, just wanted him to feel more comfortable in a course of people two years older than he was. He smiled, but explained that he was on scholarship from a Swedish-American organization and didn't have much money."

"So you 'took care of that' of that too, Pat interjected again.

"I still wasn't thinking about his nickname, but yes, I suggested it didn't have to be a date, that I would get a six-pack and we just watch TV. 'If you want to,' he replied, so we did. I had a single room and a TV, and an old two-seater; we wouldn't have to sit on my bed."

"But it was there in your room?"

"Of course. So we were there, that Friday evening, watching TV and sipping beer. Before you say anything again, you're right. Sitting there together alone, I did think about his nickname - before or after I put my hand on his thigh?"

"Before," Pat answered with a grin.

"Shut up! This is my story."

"Okay. What was on the TV?"

"I don't remember. When my hand stayed there, he put his arm around my shoulders, just loosely. For sure, then I was thinking about his nickname; my hand wasn't just resting on his thigh."

"And his nickname wasn't just resting on it either."

I guess not; he held me closer, and, well, he knew how to kiss, but I didn't turn and get my thigh between his - not that night."

Pat managed just to nod, waiting for me to continue. I hoped my pussy wasn't too moist from my anticipation of what I knew I was going to be telling. Pat just waited with a slight nod. I continued:

"Yeah, well, the next night I did. We got that far a lot sooner, and when he ventured to put his hand close to my breast, I almost put it on it. He had been that far before; when I didn't object, his hand was soon pushing my bra up and on my bare skin. To make it short, he had been further; we fucked, he on top, but, of course, just a freshman, not what this junior wanted.

"Oh, he had asked about protection. I really liked that, and it seemed that he had condoms, but maybe without one, he came even sooner than he would have with one. That was when I got bold and told him to keep fucking me. He was surprised, of course, but did and came again, but I hadn't.

"He was enthusiastically impressed that he could. By then, we were all naked, of course. It had been as good as I had expected, maybe a little bit better. He was lying on me and had recovered. Was his dick still in my pussy, probably? No, it had slipped out, when I told him how good it had been, but then ventured to say that it could have been even better for me.

"I don't know how I found words to say that without upsetting him. Maybe he already had an inkling that the girls he had fucked hadn't had orgasms and accepted an older girl's comment. Anyway, he did. I told him that the next time I would tell him what girls needed. He liked the confirmation of a next time, of course, the next weekend.

"Did he wonder as much as I did about what I would tell him, show him?"

"I bet he did!" Pat said enthusiastically after having listened to my long monolog, then grinning and adding:

"Obviously you did tell him and got what you wanted."

"Oh yeah!" I agreed, returning her grin, replying: "When I told him that girls wanted their clitoris aroused, he wanted me to show him how, and when I told him the best way he could do it, he grinned and said: 'Oh, cunnilingus," and didn't hesitate to lick my pussy. During the week, I had been worried that I would have to suck his cock first to tell him about oral sex. Of course, I wanted to, but was worried that he would have to think I was a slut."

"You aren't, just a girl who knew what she wanted, what all girls want," Pat enjoined.

"Hmm!? I hope not, hope so, but I sure didn't know that I wanted to lick your pussy."

"Don't have to be a slut to want to do that, and I didn't know I wanted to lick yours either."

Mine and her nipples had tightened again. We both smirked. When her hand found one of hers, and her fingers played with it, mine did the same with my nipple. We both moaned softly. Pat murmured:

"You want to? I want you to."

"And suck your nipples," I murmured. Pat moaned again, and both her hands held her breasts, squeezing them and offering her aroused nipples.

That was the end of our breakfast; we had finished it, but it wasn't the end of my oral gratification. We both moaned again as we stood up and returned to my bedroom. How could I want so much to lick her pussy, when I had just been telling her that he had licked mine, and I hadn't gone on to tell her how good he had fucked me, after his surprise that I wanted to sit on him and rub my clitoris? I didn't want to forget about cocks, but now I only wanted a pussy to lick - and also to stick my fingers in, I remembered, aware that my pussy was warm and moist.

In my bedroom, Pat looked at me. I nodded and dropped to my knees at the side of the bed. She nodded with an almost moaned "um-hmm" and dropped down on it in front of me, spreading her legs.

Her pussy, right in front of my face! While she reached for the pillows, I feasted my eyes on her pussy: the start of the hood over her clitoris just visible between her full pussy lips. Did it now seem larger than I remembered, when we had been looking at each other in the mirror yesterday morning? Then I had liked better that mine didn't show, but now I liked that hers did. Of course, I wanted to lick and suck it again; that had been so good!

Pat's thighs drew up, spreading wider apart, interrupting my thoughts, and she murmured:

"Go ahead. Don't you want to?"

Tearing my eyes away from my now better view of her pussy, I looked up. Her head was raised,

now with the pillows stuffed under it, and her hands were again holding her breasts. I nodded, unconsciously licking my lips, but then remembered that I want to lick and suck her nipples. I rose up off my heels and murmured: "Them first."

She understood immediately, nodding with a chuckle, and her hands moved, letting her fingers rub over her nipples. As I leaned forward between her thighs, her fingers slid aside. Which one first, I asked myself. It didn't matter. Maybe one hand offered one a little more than her other hand. Oh, I knew how it was going to feel for her; that was so special and delightful about arousing another girl - or being aroused by one!

I licked, appreciating why men liked to lick mine. Feeling her goose bumps with my tongue was much better than feeling my own with my fingers. I moaned, and she moaned, but she couldn't know that I was aware that my nipples were just as aroused. I moved my body, rubbing them on her stomach, as I shifted to lick her other nipple. Her smaller ones weren't going to be as easy to nibble on as mine.

But she wanted me to; her thumb and fingers squeezed her breast, pressing her nipple between my lips. I clamped my open mouth on her breast and sucked. Slurp, air at the corners of my lips. I pursed them closer around her nipple and sucked, the tip of my tongue flipping over her aroused nipple. She moaned, and I did, thinking that girls had more places that were arousing - and that it was arousing to find them.

Her thighs held my waist, and then I felt her heels on my ass, and we both moaned. I tried to rub my aroused nipples on her, with more success, when I let that nipple pop out of my mouth and could shift my body the find her other one. She moaned, and her heels clutched down on my ass. I sucked and tongued. She moaned, and her hips rocked up. After another moan, she demanded softly: "Fuck me."

I couldn't do that. Had she forgotten that I wasn't her boyfriend? But I knew what she wanted and what I also wanted to do. I nodded once with a last suck and let that nipple pop out. When I moved, her legs let me sit back. Her pussy looked even more attractive, her pussy lips now fuller and open enough that I could see the edges of her inner lips - and also now the full length of the hood over her clitoris. It just had to be licked!

Her pussy looked so delectable and moist, and I already know how good it tasted. How could those two guys not have wanted to lick mine, when they had looked at it like I was looking at Pat's? The others had licked but only a couple as good as Pat had.

"Eat me!" Pat demanded less softly, wagging her thighs. She had remembered that I wasn't her boyfriend. Maybe I should have told those two guys that. I grasped her thighs and held them apart, enjoying a better view of her aroused pussy than I had had before breakfast. Anyone must want to lick and taste an aroused pussy! Her thighs twitched under my hands, and she demanded emphatically: "Lick, suck!"

Had my sucking and licking her nipples aroused her that much? Before my face was really between her thighs, I heard her moan, a relieved sounding moan. I moaned in agreement, as my tongue swept up between her pussy lips. Of course, she wanted to feel it on her clit - I would have too - but it just had to lap over the mouth of her wet vagina - that taste! I wanted more of it, and my tongue wanted to find it, returning and probing. Oh yes, this was better than kissing and tasted much better!

Pat moaned, sort of a chuckle, and murmured: "You taste good too."

She couldn't mind my trying to probe deeper, better than I could before breakfast. My lips pressed between her pussy lips, and my tongue plunged in her slippery opening. Was that how it felt for a cock? But my tongue could only go a little deeper. What would it feel like, if it were an inch or two longer? It wasn't, a little frustrating. Pat moaned, letting it try a couple of times. Then her thighs twitched, and she murmured insistently: "Fingers, suck!"

Right, I had almost forgotten that I want to feel if another girl's pussy felt like mine did. My tongue slid out and back into my mouth to let me taste where it had been, and then swept up. Pat started slightly with a sharp "Uhnn!" when the tip of my tongue touched the firm, smooth round pearl of her clit. It seemed more prominent than when I had just been looking, maybe just for my tongue. But I knew she didn't want me to tongue it directly, like I didn't rub mine, when I was arousing myself. I clamped my mouth over the top of her pussy and and sucked and licked back and forth on the hood of her clit, enjoying that I was making her moan, as my tongue made it move back and forth under its hood.

This was what a pussy wanted, and it was arousing to do it, knowing how it was feeling for her. But that wasn't all it wanted. Between aroused moans, Pat muttered: "Fingers."

How could I have forgotten again? My middle finger found the mouth of her wet vagina and easily slide into it. It felt like my own, but I could slide my finger further in.

"Two," Pat murmured. Of course, my index finger found its way in. She moaned, and my fingers enjoyed exploring, twining, my hand turning, letting them twisting all around. I couldn't do that in mine. This was more interesting. Of course, I knew that it felt firmer on the front of her pussy and softer elsewhere, but now I could twist my hand and let my fingers explore there, which they couldn't do in my pussy, but mine was wanting to feel fingers doing that. It felt almost as wet.

"Fuck, suck." Pat interrupted my delightful new experience, reminding me that I had been neglecting her clit. I did, sucking and licking, and I knew where she wanted my fingers to rub on the front of her pussy, there where my fingers always ended up rubbing, when I wanted my climax after teasing myself as long as I could stand it.

Pat moaned louder, more a growling sound. She didn't have to clasp my head to her pussy to keep it there, but her hands did, as her thighs twitched, and then her pelvis began to rock. Her hands helped my mouth stay where she wanted it to be. And her pussy was clutching my fingers so tight, tighter than I remembered my pussy's squeezing them. Really tighter, or just because I was so accustomed to having them in my pussy?

"Oh fuck!" Pat cried out softly, and then my chin was flushed with her warm pussy juice, and my palm was full of it. I had wanted to catch her squirt in my mouth, but it had come before I expected it, but I was so pleased that I had made her squirt. Would she again? My pussy didn't squirt like hers did, but my fingers knew where hers wanted to be rubbed to make mine do what it could. They did, and her hips bucked, and she gave a whimpering moan. With a wet slurp, my lips released their sucking on her clit, and my tongue slid down to the base of my wet, jerking fingers.