Pat and Jennifer Ch. 03

"Uhmmm!" being sucked and licked and fucked at the same time! Better than being fucked?! Better than a cock just pumping in and out -- however good it felt for it -- but fingers just wanted to make it feel arousing for me, and were, like mine had wanted it to be arousing for Pat, and we both knew so much better what another pussy wanted.

Did we ever! I was gasping and moaning, feeling my pussy contracting on her fingers, and my hips rocked up once, and then again, and my hands were back on my nipples. Hers were now grasping the cheeks of my ass to keep her mouth on my twitching pelvis. Pat was moaning with me, either in recognition of how good she was arousing me or from her own pleasure at licking and finger-fucking my pussy. Were her fingers that much longer than mine?

"Hold still," I silently commanded my hips, but moaning at the same time. I wanting to enjoy what Pat was doing with her tongue and fingers as long as I could, but my hips wouldn't obey. They rocked up again, meeting the plunge of her fingers in my clutching vagina.

"Oh, fuck!" I murmured, giving up any hope of prolonging the so arousing anticipation of my orgasm. Her fingers did, and my hips twitched and rocked without restraint, as her fucking fingers made wetter noises than mine own ever had. It was about to happen, my climax!

My body convulsed, my hips and head jerking up, as my orgasm took complete control of me. I must have been whimpering and gasping, but wasn't aware of my noises, as my thighs quivered and clamped together on her head, but that didn't stop her tongue and fingers, nor the orgasmic contractions of my pussy, as another convulsion wracked me. My thighs quivered and clutched, my toes tightly curled, as my heels pressed on her back.

"Fuck! Stop!" I demanded, my hands forcing her head back, as I gasped and moaned. She relented, raising her head, licking her lips, as she grinned at me and asked:

"Which?" and jogged her fingers in my pussy once.

My body jolted again, and I was even more aware that my pussy was still contracting on her fingers.

Fuck! Stop!" I repeated, immediately correcting myself: "Just stop!"

She scowled with a disappointed expression, but drew her fingers out of my pussy. It didn't like that, still contracting but with nothing to hold. Pat looked down and hummed sharply, remarking:

"It didn't want me too."

Just come here and let me lick your wet pussy; I know it is, like mine was, and wants me to."

Pat nodded slightly, but then shook her head and replied:

"I promised you two, first."

Did my pussy contract again, just in response to what she had said? Did my pussy want more than I thought I did? I saw her eyebrows shoot up and then her slight smirk. Could she see that my pussy had contracted again? She could! She hummed, chuckling, and replied: "It wants me to."

Before I could say anything, her fingers plunged back in my still aroused pussy. I just gasped; it did! This wasn't like giving myself a second orgasm, starting slowly, building up again, Pat's fingers were immediately doing what mine would eventually have done, but more intensely, jerking up and down, her fingertips pressing there were I was most sensitive!

Shit! Pussy, can't you get enough? My silent question was answered; in a second my pussy was as aroused as before, and my hips twitching, and I convulsed again, tormented by the uncontrollable spasms of my body, as a second orgasm shook me. I felt her fingers slip out again, but aftershocks were still in control of my body. Before I could do anything, I heard Pat remark cheerfully:

"God, that must have good! I didn't think you would come again so quickly; I never have."

I raised my head and managed to focus my eyes on her grinning eyes. Her fingers were in her mouth. I could only nod with a noncommittal: "Um-hmm."

Her fingers slipped out, and she licked her palm, then grinned at me and said:

"I think you squirted. At least, it was wetter than before. You want another one?"

Her hand was already dropping down between my thighs. As my head dropped back down, I silently mouthed a resigned: "Oh fuck!"

Can one not want another orgasm? I had no choice; she gave me one, starting a little more gently. Sure, I wanted another one! I was giggling in anticipation of how I now knew it would be, and then laughing hysterically as it took complete control of my body again. Worse -- better? -- her fingers didn't want to stop. I was almost sobbing, when they finally did, but my body continued to spasm. When I thought it had stopped, it did again, and then again.

My first coherent thought was that fucking had never been like this. Pat didn't say anything, thank goodness, and let me recover completely. Was I suppose to thank her? I didn't. Did I really want to lick her pussy and try to return what she had given me? I wasn't sure. At that moment, I just wanted to curl up. I did, rolling on my side with my knees drawn up on the bed.

Good Pat, she silently crept up behind me, urging me to move up on the bed, then putting her arm around me, just cupping my breast in her hand, as her thighs drew up behind mine.

I must have been fast asleep, when her voice awakened me. After a surprised moment, I remember that the nice familiar feeling of waking up in that position was with her arm around me, not the usual man's -- no one's in particular. I had understood what she had said: "That must have been too good."

I just nodded and held her hand on my breast. She squeezed it. Her hand hadn't slid off it, so she must have been awake while I was sleeping. I murmured:

"It was -- if anything can be too good."

"What I was thinking, asking myself. You must have been asleep."

"I was," I replied: "just couldn't do anything but curl up."

"I thought so, know the feeling, but no guy ever made me come three times."

"Hmm! He did once -- not me -- but I sure wasn't complaining."

We both chuckled. Pat replied:

"Maybe one did with me too, but I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure he came twice and then kept on fucking."

"At least, he wanted to, or wanted you to."

"I didn't, but wasn't complaining."

"Of course not," I agreed, but then suddenly remembered fall junior year and the young freshman, whom I had told what I wanted, what girls wanted. He had. Pat had continued:

"I don't like this. Wrong! I like it too much!" She squeezed my breast and pressed her thighs to mine, then adding:

"God, I love licking your pussy -- and how you lick mine -- not just it."

"Not more than I did," I agreed, liking that we could agree about that without using the word.

Pat understood, humming, and her fingers found my nipple. I hummed in response, until her fingers squeezed it. I flinched and murmured:

"Auch! They're still sore; I must have pinched them too much, when you were licking my pussy."

Pat stopped with an understanding "um-hmm", then murmured"

"Yours are just so good for that. Hm-hmm! We girls just have so many places that like to be aroused."

"Um-hmm," I agreed, then chuckled and added: "especially with our tongues."

"And tastes so good. I just love licking your pussy."

"And yours -- but I still like cocks, even like how they taste. I didn't at first."

"Me neither, but you're right, we still like cocks -- and men."

"Of course, love them," I emphasized, then wondering if I was trying to reassure myself that I did. I didn't love Pat, but I sure loved enjoying what we did with each other, remembering that I owed her an orgasm. I licked my lips at the thought, as she replied:

"Yeah, love them, not all of them, but their cocks."

"Or their tongues, if they can do what yours does."

"And yours. Hmm? I don't think one has, though."

I chuckled again and replied:

"Oh, I don't want to spoil you. Then I'd better not again."

Why did my thighs tighten together, luckily without moving, since my knees were in contact? Pat's fingers clasped my breast, and then she hummed deep in her throat, then chuckling that way, and replied: "Just try. If you do, I won't tell 'him' that you did, just tell him that he could do better."

We both chuckled cheerfully, as she squeezed my breast again. I was licking my lips again in anticipation of tasting her pussy, when she chuckled again and said:

"Besides, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the pleasure of licking my pussy -- and there too."

Did she want her asshole licked better than I had before, at least as good as she had mine? I growled and took her hand off my breast and rolled away from her. As I crawled back to the edge of the bed , I demanded softly: "Come here and get it, give it to me."

When my knees were on the floor, I watched her hurrying to move her hips in front of me on the edge of the bed, I suddenly was shocked by my words. But then her pussy between her open

thighs was right in front of me. It wasn't what I had said that shocked me -- that I had so blatantly said it. I licked my lips, my tongue anticipating how it would feel to lick between her pussy lips and taste her, and also to lick her asshole. Start there first? Pat had drawn her thighs back, rolling her hips up. I could see it; I could start there, but I wanted to taste her first.

I grasped her hips and lowered my head, my tongue immediately finding the mouth of her vagina. Good! It already tasted good, moist, letting my tongue probe. Pat moaned, and I moaned. Did I want to enjoy licking her clit first, before her asshole? But maybe she and I would enjoy that too much to remember her asshole. Besides, she had told me: "and there too."

Yeah, she wanted that, rolling her hips up further and giving a suggestive moan. When my tongue slid down, she moaned more emphatically. Nice, tight little asshole, twitching under my tongue. Pat moaned with a chuckle. Right, it had tickled at first, but then her moans were just aroused ones, but mine were chuckles, as I enjoyed that what my tongue was doing aroused her; now that I knew how it did. Just the thought was arousing; I felt my pussy contract like her asshole was. It wanted to be rubbed. Pat's must have also contracted and wanted to be rubbed; I was aware of movement and opened my eyes and glanced up and saw her fingers there again, like after breakfast.

I liked that my enjoying licking her asshole was being so arousing, but raised my head and said:

"Stop that! That's cheating; I want to."

"Then do! What did you say: 'Come here and get it, give it to me.'"

She had raised her head and was looking at me with an aroused expression, but then chuckled in her throat, apparently pleased with her remembering my words, repeating them, but now reversing our roles. Her fingers were spreading her pussy lips, what a delightful view!

Where to start? A small drop slid down from her opening. It had to be licked up; pussy tasted so good! My tongue did and then wanted to find where it had come from and probed. Pat moaned, but when it probed again, after her moan she demanded softly: "Here too, before I do."

Her fingers were moving, wanting to rub her clit. Mine was also wanting to be rubbed. Before her fingers could find it, my mouth sucked down around it, and my tongue eagerly caressed her aroused clit. She moaned deeply, and I moaned, both in my delight at arousing her and in empathy from knowing how it was feeling for her, knowing too well; feeling my pussy contract.

It needed a cock, we both needed a cock, but I only had fingers, but they knew better than a cock where Pat's pussy wanted to be rubbed. Two slurped into her wet vagina, and she responded with a shivering moan, and her hips twitched.

* * *

Sorry, folks. I know, it's terribly unfair to stop right at this point, but you can imagine -- fantasize -- about what is going to happen. I started this over a year ago and then got sidetracked. To be honest, I was running out of ideas to describe what they were doing, make it sound even better, let them do something different. Hadn't they already done everything they could? Please don't reply to that with your fantasies. I am sure they are good and could suggest something else, but Jennifer and Pat are "my girls".

I have now finally returned to the story and imagined what could happen with Jennifer after Pat leaves Monday morning for her job interview. That would be after the rest of Sunday afternoon and another night in bed together. Probably one of them started to sing "Do it to me one more time." We will join Jennifer with her thoughts Monday after work.

When I got back to my apartment Monday after work, it seemed so empty. Did I just imagine that it still smelled from all Pat and I had done? There was still a glass of wine in the bottle. I felt like I needed it and sat down, musing about it all.

Yes, we really had had sex together -- two women -- and as good as it could be. And I never had had so many good orgasms on one weekend, every one of them! Maybe a couple of times with guys, we had done it both ways that many times, but they all hadn't been orgasms for me. But a couple of the fucks had been, and I sure liked men and their cocks, in my pussy or in my mouth. But every time with Pat had been so good, for her too. Yeah, I loved to lick and taste a pussy! But that didn't make me a lesbian; I liked cocks and men just as much.

Just as much, not more or less? Pat had said it, we need a cock. She had that question too. Whatever, for sure girls didn't have to be butch or dike -- look like that -- to enjoy sex with each other.

I took a bigger sip of wine and then remembered something else. That morning at work, a younger colleague had greeted me and asked if I had had a good weekend. Shit! I hope I didn't blush, that she didn't see that I had. We didn't know each other really, but a couple of times she had asked if we wanted to do something together. Was that what she had meant? It had just sounded like an innocent suggestion. But if that was what she meant, did I look like a girl who would also want to?

Crap! I was! Before I had known it, could she have already recognized that? Or was I just wanting her to think that?

I emptied the glass, wishing there had been more in it, admitting to myself that I would have no problem about enjoying another pussy. I felt a little guilty about secretly two-timing with men, but having sex with another pussy ...? Pat wouldn't mind, she could too. I hoped she would, now that we both knew how good it was. Girls share, don't compete. Well, maybe true lesbians do, really in love with another girl, but we just enjoyed the sex together as best we could, and that was very good.

There was no man in my fantasies that night, and I am not sure if it was Pat's or my colleague's face I was envisioning between my thighs. Of course, it was only my fingers there, trying to do everything I could want a tongue to, now with much better fantasies.

The next day, I was more friendly towards my colleague, Mary, which she seemed to recognize. Thursday, she asked again if we wanted to do something together. I was more receptive for her suggestion, saying that I had something else planned. I didn't tell her that I had a date with the man I had put off to the previous weekend.

I was going to have my period and knew he didn't want to fuck, but we both knew that I liked to suck his cock, and I did -- twice, forgetting about pussies. I was reassured by that. When my period stopped on Tuesday, however, my fantasies that evening were only about Pat's licking, sucking and finger-fucking my pussy, wondering and hoping that Mary's "doing something together" was also that.

When we saw each other on Thursday, this time I was the one to ask if she wanted to do something together. She was surprised, but pleased, less so, when I explained that my friend was going to be out of town, which was true -- very conveniently. We agreed to meet after work on Friday and left it open about what we would do.

I guess we both smiled a little questioningly when we met outside the building, shrugging, asking where we would go. She suggested that her flat was just a short walk from our office, so we went in that direction. After a several steps, she said:

"You have a friend."

"Yeah, nothing to serious. And you?"

"Not right now. Oh, I have had a couple, a few, more in college, girls' college; had to have one."

"Of course," I agreed, adding softly: "Got to start sometime."

Mary nodded with wry smile and agreed:

"Yeah, something like that. What are we going to do? What do you do when you get home Friday evening?"

"Hmm? Usually take a shower, even if I don't have a date, get more comfortable."

"Me too, out of the office clothes," she agreed with a smile.

I glanced at her figure, realizing that I hadn't noticed it before, as she added:

"If you want, we can at my place, and then do something. I guess, have supper."

"Good idea, Dutch treat for supper, of course."

She nodded with another smile, and we walked on, as I wondered if her suggestion about showers meant what I was was thinking I wanted it to -- both getting our clothes off and then ...? Silently I admonished myself for wanting to assume too much. Then she remarked:

"Yeah, guys, I guess they would be intrigued about this."

I agreed:

"Yeah, weekend before last, I was talking with a girlfriend from my college about them. She was staying with me, applying for a job here. And, well, we were talking about them."

"Really? I never talked with another girl about them."

"We did, agreeing that they weren't always as good as ..."

Mary interrupted me softly: "Not on the street!"

There were people who could have overheard me. I shrugged with a nod, and she nodded with another wry smile, also with a curious glance. We entered her building and then her flat. When she had closed the door, she said:

"And you talked with her about men -- like that?" You must have known each other pretty well."

"Till then, not really."

"'Till then, not really'?" she repeated as a question.

I nodded, liking her curiosity. I glanced around, looking for where the bathroom could be. She noticed and said that she would get me a towel. She turned, and I found the bathroom, beginning to undress, wondering if she was going to join me before I was behind the shower curtain.

She didn't, maybe just having waited till I was, since I immediately heard her repeat her question. I replied:

"If you want to know, we had to share my queen-sized bed. No problem, but when I rolled over in my sleep and found a body next to me, ..."

"I never slept all night with anyone," she interjected.

"So I automatically put my arm around her, assuming she was a man, and then a hand was urging mine up, and it was on a girl's breast. Surprise! For her too, when she realized that it was my hand, but hers just held it there. Nice, holding a breast, mine or hers, ..."

"Or having it held," Mary agreed

"Yeah, so when we later rolled over, she was holding mine. When we woke up in the morning, we both chuckled about that, that it had been nice both ways, and then about men, and then about what we would normally do -- if there weren't a man -- on a Saturday morning in bed."

"Oooh! Really?" Mary asked.

"So we did. Why not?"

"Both of you?!"

"Real good, and agreeing that we did that more often than with guys, and that we weren't then thinking about -- their putting theirs in us."

"Ooooh! Really! I don't either, just about the one guy, who did that so good -- if I understand."

"I think you do," I agreed.

"Better than their 'theirs' for sure. He was an assistant professor, older. I guess I wasn't the only girl, but we did a few times one semester, more, he did. Ummm!

"Um-hmm. 'Ummm'," I agreed, and we both chuckled.

"So then?" Mary asked.

"Your shower," I replied and pushed the shower curtain aside.