My name is Becky. Well, quite honestly it’s not, but I only tell a few select friends here on Lush my real name. I’ve read a lot of erotic stories over the years, but it wasn’t until a few months ago that I decided to write a few of my own. So far, all my stories have involved my husband, who is the love of my life. Still, I did have a few experiences before him, and this is one of them. It’s funny how you can go years and not think about something, and then the littlest things can bring it all back. Like how sitting in the arena the other day, waiting for my daughter to walk across the stage at her graduation reminded me of Jennifer.
I grew up in a typical middle-class neighborhood in Louisiana. When I was 10, my little sister died. She was born with birth defects and spent most of her life in and out of hospitals. After she died, my parents were always fighting and my dad soon took a job as a long-distance truck driver. He’d be on the road for weeks at a time, and then come home for two or three days. With all the medical bills, my mom still had to work, and I quickly became like a mother to my two younger brothers.
My mom would typically get home about 9 or 10pm. I’d have dinner ready for her, and we’d sit in the living room and talk after my little brothers were in bed. It made me feel special. I saw the struggles my mother had to endure, and she saw mine. It made us love and respect each other so much more.
I guess I was what you would call a late bloomer. I didn’t even get my period until I was 16. I was always rather flat-chested and lanky, and boys just didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It probably didn’t help that I didn’t feel sexy, or even pretty. Besides, I kind of equated men to my father. Sure, I had a few boyfriends here and there, but I just never really felt that connection. After a while, I started wondering if there was something wrong with me. I remember asking a high school guidance counselor if I was gay once. She told me it was too early to tell and that I should give it some time.
Now being the type-A personality that I am, I started to read as much as I could on sexuality. After all, sex and sexuality are huge part of who we are. I didn’t want to become the sexless person my mother was. I would go to the library and browse through books. I found ones at the nearby university had pictures in them. But most of my information came from pornographic magazines. Some of them I confiscated from my little brothers. Some I stole from my friends’ dads. The first few magazines I acquired were just your typical Playboys. They showed a few erotic pictures, but rarely anything explicit. But then I found my best friend’s father’s collection under his bathroom sink, which included Penthouse Forum and High Society. I remember sneaking a couple of them home and reading the stories over and over again, not to mention looking at all the sexy pictures, which were much more explicit than Playboy.
It was also about this time that my mom bought me a new computer. She got it primarily for me to write papers on when I started at the community college in the spring. Of course it didn’t take long to find several bulletin boards dedicated to sex as well. Yes, this was before the internet. Every night, I would sit at my computer, recording my thoughts and fantasies in my electronic diary. Over time, I realized that many of my fantasies involved women, particularly the really steamy ones. It’s funny how it all progressed. At first, I thought boys at school were cute and sexy. Later on, I developed a penchant for older men, like the ones in the magazines. But eventually, my focus was on the women in those magazines, those beautiful, sexy women.
That’s how I spent pretty much the entire last semester of my senior year….fantasizing about what it would be like to touch another girl. As soon as school was out, I’d rush home and finish any homework I had. My little brothers really weren’t so little anymore, so as soon as I finished making dinner, I’d sneak off to my room until my mom came home. And every day, that desire in me just grew and grew until I finally had the courage to do something about it.
It was the last week of my senior year. I had gym my last period and another girl and I got tasked to take down the volleyball nets and clean up after school. I really didn’t know Jennifer that well. She was one of the popular rich kids and hung out with a completely different group. Still, she was very attractive and I took every opportunity to check her out. Knowing it was our last week of school, I felt a little emboldened.
While we were sweeping the locker room floors, Ms. Crabtree, our PE teacher, told us to make sure the doors were locked when we left. No sooner had she left, Jennifer was putting the broom up and pulling off her top, saying “Enough of this bullshit.” I smiled back at her and started undressing as well, taking every opportunity to look Jennifer’s way. Compared to me, she was gorgeous. She was about two inches taller, with long flowing blonde locks that I had admired many times before. She was probably a C-cup, but that was still much larger than mine, and her ass looked like an upside-down heart when she bent over to slide off her panties. I immediately went into daydream mode. When I looked up, she was looking directly into my eyes, a big grin on her face. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Jennifer's grin widened as she asked me, bold as brass, "See anything
I blushed even more and mumbled a response that included a sorry or two and a weakly mumbled yes. Hey, I said I felt emboldened. For me, mumbling yes was bold. Jennifer didn’t even bat an eye; she just turned and headed for the showers. All I could think as she walked away was "nice ass". I slid my panties off, which were now detectibly moist, and hesitantly walked into the showers, boldly picking a shower head that was a mere 10 feet from where the warm water was cascading down her body.
I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair, trying my best to wash my impure thoughts of Jennifer out of my head as well, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I squealed and spun around, causing Jennifer to squeal as well. It certainly lightened the mood, and when I stopped giggling, I noticed this flaxen haired goddess was naked, standing right in front of me. She was smiling as my eyes fell to her breasts and then down over her belly
to her pubic hair, all neatly trimmed and lying flat from the wetness against her mons. Her hair now looked almost brown, draped against her neck as the beads of water dripped down her body. I was completely mesmerized…..awestruck.
It seemed like hours that she just stood there. I know it was only seconds, but it was long enough for a million images to flash through my head, thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to her. I could feel the wetness trailing down my legs, unsure if it was the shower or my own excitement. I finally snapped back to reality and looked up at her. She smiled again, the same sexy smile those women in Playboy gave the camera. I wanted to say something, but nothing would come out.
Jennifer just looked at me, almost giggling at my obvious predicament and power she had over me. “Could you wash my back please?” she asked.
With a hell of a lot more confidence than I felt, I managed a reply. “Sure, as long as you wash mine.”
“I’d love to,” she smiled, with what sounded like a moan at the end.
Jennifer turned around presenting her backside to me, then inched back toward me to get a bit of water on her back. Biting my lower lip, I moved to the side, pushed her hair over her shoulders, and slowly began running the soap in tiny circles over her flawless skin. I started at her shoulders, feeling the smooth, feminine flesh under my fingertips. As I continued touching her, my excitement grew, as did my confidence. I crept forward, my hip contacting her buttocks.
Tiny bolts of electricity seemed to course from her body into mine. I had kissed several boys before that. Okay, not several, but a couple. Still, it felt nothing like this. It was like my entire body tingled and vibrated, starting anywhere her flesh touched mine, up through my hair, down through my toes, then ricocheting and coursing back through me. I edged forward some more, feeling my tummy against her, my breasts against her back. My nipples were fully erect, and I knew she could feel them poking into her.
It must have taken me about five minutes to get to the small of her back. “Now what?” I thought to myself. Jennifer answered that as she bent forward, pushing her ass against my hand. Slowly, my hand created little sud circles on her cheeks. I shifted over to the side, bending down slightly as my hand snaked lower. I’m not sure if it was confidence or lust, but my fingers finally slipped into her crack. As I did so, Jennifer let out a very soft moan. I took this as an encouraging signal and delved my fingertips deeper into her crack, searching for her sex. At the same time, I slipped my leg between hers, pressing my thigh against her ass. I was running on pure instinct, conjuring up experiences from thousands of fantasies and erotic stories.
When I finally felt her slit parting around my fingers, Jennifer shuddered. She stood and turned around, looking deeply into my eyes. I could see the surprise in her eyes, but there was something else as well, something I just couldn’t put my finger on. “You idiot,” I thought to myself, “You’ve gone too far and now she’s going to tell the whole school. You’re going to walk across the stage at graduation and everyone’s going to know what you did. They’re going to know you’re a lesbian.”
With a shaky voice and tears in my eyes, I sobbed, “I’m sooo sorry.”
Jennifer looked confused. Taking my face in her hands, she looked me square in the eyes and said, “Oh Becky, you have nothing to be sorry about. That was the best back washing I’ve ever had.” She took a step forward. Leaning in, she kissed my lips ever-so gently. This time, those little electric shocks had a lot more voltage. They shook me to the bone. Seeing that I wasn’t going to back away, Jennifer leaned in once again, her kiss much more forceful this time. And this time, I responded, kissing her back with every bit of passion and lust that I felt inside.
My nipples got so erect that I could feel them physically hurting me. It was like they wanted to burst out the front of my breasts. Slowly, I found my instincts taking over. Still kissing my new lover, I lifted my hands to her upper arms and slid them over the top of her shoulders and down her back, stopping when I finally reached the small of her back. I moaned with my lips against hers as I pulled her towards me, no longer the timid school girl. I opened my mouth and took her bottom lip between mine. I think that shocked her, as I could hear her gasp a little. But then I felt her tongue against mine as she opened her mouth, moaning as we pulled our bodies together.
I could feel her soapy breasts against mine, sliding together. I could feel her stomach, her thighs. I could feel her pubic bone rub against mine, her coarse pubic hairs scratching so deliciously against my smooth mound. We were both lost in the moment, consumed by lust, kissing as passionately as we knew how. Our tongues danced frantically as we ground our bodies together, working ourselves closer and closer to that pinnacle. Jennifer wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tighter, mashing our breasts together. I became desperate to make her feel as wonderfully as I felt. I reached around, grabbing her ass cheeks and pulled her into me. As I did, Jennifer moaned loudly, reaching around to my ass to do the same.
As I reached up to grab her breast, we heard a banging on the locker room door. We froze. Shaken back to reality, I yelled out, “Girls changing. Girls changing in here.”
That was when we heard Mr. Baker, the vice-principal, his voice echoing throughout the locker room. “Ms. Crabtree asked me to check on you two. She said you should be done by now. What the hell is taking you so long?”
“We just had to take a shower. We went and got ourselves all hot and sweaty,” Jennifer said, giggling into my shoulder.
“Jennifer Jenkins, your mother is waiting to pick you up. She’s been sitting in my office for half an hour. I suggest you both get a move on. You’ve got five minutes.”
We both yelled out to him that we’d hurry up and heard the door bang closed. Not wanting to let Jennifer go, I reached back behind me to turn off the shower. As I did, I felt a pair of lips on my right nipple. I gasped, letting my moan bellow out and fill the entire locker room, not caring if Mr. Baker could hear or not. I pulled her onto me further, pushing my tiny a-cup into her mouth. Not wanting to be left out, I reached up and took one of her breasts in my hand. It felt so different than my own, so soft, so heavy.
Once again, I was getting lost in her. That is until I heard Mr. Baker banging on the door once again, bringing Jennifer off my nipple in fear. She started to turn away to grab her towel, but I grabbed her hand. She looked back at me and I smiled, “I want a turn at that.” Smiling, she poked out her chest at me, saying, “Be my guest.”
So many times I had fantasized about this and now it was reality, albeit a rushed reality. Slowly, I lowered my head, opening my mouth slightly. As I wrapped my lips around her areola, my tongue began to caress her nipple. Leaning forward, I opened my mouth wider, taking as much of her into my mouth as I could, sucking the beads of water from her flesh. Jennifer moaned out her encouragement as I felt her hands on the back of my wet hair, pulling me into her.
BANG, BANG, BANG
I could feel the pounding, shaking me back to reality.
"Don’t make me come in there and drag you girls out. Get out of the shower, NOW!"
We knew he was serious, even the part about coming in after us. As we were getting dressed, I said to Jennifer, "I just want you to know that this is the first time I've done anything like this before. I have been thinking about it for a while, you know, about girls. But I’ve never done anything. Really, I hadn't intended on doing anything except check you out today. And since we are both graduating, I thought that it would be OK, even if you caught me. But that was so great. I’m staying here all summer. Maybe we could hang out some time."
Jennifer just smiled. Not knowing her well at all, I wasn't really prepared for her reply. "I've been checking you out for weeks. I volunteered to clean up after gym class and told Ms. Crabtree that you had agreed to help. I thought if I could get you alone in the shower then I could try you out. But that’s all I was interested in. You’re not my type and I normally wouldn't even talk to you." With that she walked out.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, it hurt like hell. I was completely heart-broken and cried the entire walk home. When I got home, I went straight to my room and cried myself to sleep on my bed. When my mom got home, she knew something was wrong right away. She came in and sat on my bed, rubbing my shoulders while I wept. She asked me who hurt me with such a loving tone in her voice that all I could do was hug her.
She was still there the next morning. After my brothers left for their last day of school, she took me to her room for a nice long talk. It had been so long since she cuddled me in her bed and I found it utterly comforting. After I'd settled down, I told her that I had kissed another girl and had liked it. I told her the whole story—everything. I told her how I had fallen for Jennifer only to be immediately dumped.
My mother was really good about it. She told me how she had been with a girl when she was my age too. That part shocked me into consciousness. I never thought of my mom as sexual in any way, despite having 4 kids. Besides, we were always told girls in the ‘50s were good girls who didn’t even let a boy get to second base until they were married. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.
She went on to explain that there are a lot of mean-hearted people in the world, people that care only for themselves. She told me that she had had her heart broken a number of times and how you never get used to it, but that you should learn from it. She also echoed what my counselor had told me months before, that it was still too early to say if I was a lesbian, or just bisexual.
What I remember most, and always will remember, is how gentle and understanding my mother was. As we sat in the kitchen making cookies, she told me how proud she was of me. When she saw the bewilderment in my eyes, she explained that she was proud of me for who I was. She was proud that I hadn’t responded to Jennifer with the same cruelty that she had treated me with. She was proud because I felt brave enough to seek out what I wanted. And more importantly, she was proud that I trusted her enough to tell her.
We spent the whole day together, and I began seeing my mother in a whole new light. I also began seeing myself in a whole new way. And two days later, when I walked across the stage to receive my diploma, I held my head up high. And when Jennifer walked across the stage to receive hers, I just smiled to myself thinking, “Yep, I tapped that.”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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