I have been so encouraged and humbled by the generous comments on my first story. I am not sure why I wrote Part II before Part I because it is important to know some context to who Jamie and I are.
Being an only child in what some may call a dysfunctional family has its advantages and drawbacks. Dad was an immigrant with little more than a rudimentary grasp of the English language. The consequence of this being that he was largely silent which many interpreted as unfriendly or rude. I think it was more about his self-conscious inability to express himself. I have no doubt he loved me in his own way but it was hard to really see any tenderness. He was an engineer of sorts so he would escape to his workshop where he was constantly tinkering with something or other.
Mum was, well probably frustrated with how her life had turned out. I swear she only had sex once in her life and I was the consequence, a fact she made me feel very aware of. I messed up her plans I think, not that I or anybody I knew ever was aware what those plans were. She spent her time tirelessly being the good lady serving on every committee her church could ever dream up, spending as much time away from home as possible and paying little more than cursory attention to my growing up.
The flip side to this was that I was largely left to my own devices and relatively free to do much as I liked. We lived in the country where our nearest neighbours were about a mile away. I knew them of course, but not well. Not that is, until I went to high school and met Jamie. (Lest there be any confusion, “high School” in my country is age 13 to 18, more or less). Jamie and I met in grade 8, shy country girls in a class of thirty or so boys and girls mainly from the town so they all knew each other, or so it seemed. We naturally enough gravitated towards each other for comfort and support.
Jamie is the middle of three siblings – an older brother and a sister. Her brother was something of a school hero because he played rugby (again, for the Americans rugby is to my country probably what football is to yours) and so was constantly the centre of attention from the boys who hero-worshipped him, and the girls who desperately wanted to be noticed by him.
From pre-pubescence to mid-teens Jamie and I went through the motions, with the other girls, of making all the right noises, doing all the right things to indicate how sexy, cute, desirable the boys in the rugby team were. The truth is I spent more time looking at the girls in the hockey team or the netball team. I am not sure it was conscious but it certainly was something I was aware of and I suspect the same may have been true for Jamie. She of course may simply have been keeping me company.
Puberty was something of a mystery for me. I had little idea what was happening and mum and certainly not dad, were not there to guide me. What I would have done without Jamie I have no idea but it did bring us closer together I suppose. I was at least able to learn about training bras and tampons without having to go the store alone to ask the questions.
Most weekends and many days after school, I would be at Jamie’s house or she at mine. We lived almost as sisters but where her house was a constant bustle of activity and often raucous laughter, mine was a place of refuge where we could talk, read magazines and listen to music. Where, because I suppose of the size of her family, she didn’t have all the latest music or clothes, I never lacked for anything. What my mum and dad lacked in parenting skills they made up for in iPods, clothes and other luxuries.
From the middle into the latter years of high school I really was becoming aware of being different. I had by now discovered that the penis of the species didn’t do it for me. I had had a less than satisfactory and somewhat humiliating experience (with a penis) behind the garage at a house party. It was more about the clumsy fumbling of an inept and over eager lad than any sense of pleasure or thrill. The consequence of which was the evidence of his discharge down the front of my dress. I was henceforth avoiding them, boys and penises. A bold decision perhaps, but at that age we are prone to these bold and sometimes irrational decisions. All that ego and testosterone and for goodness sake, competing…. left me confused and disinterested.
It was around this time too that I started to notice Jamie. She was developing the most beautiful breasts I ever could have imagined. Her legs were long and muscled and she was always lightly tanned. The fact she was happy lying around the pool without any clothes on certainly was evidenced in her unblemished golden colouring. Where I was so self-conscious with the development of breasts, hating the way they moved and bounced as I ran on the hockey field, hating even more the magnetism they seemed to have for the eyes of the boys; Jamie was seemingly oblivious. She seldom wore a bra (except at school where it was compulsory under her uniform) yet never seemed inappropriate or flaunting. It was just her way and people didn’t seem even to notice.
The academic year was ended and it was our long summer break. In a couple of weeks Jamie and I would be seniors; grade 12 and working our buts off to get university acceptance. For now though, we were enjoying the break and I was thinking about my eighteenth birthday in two months time.
Dad was away some place, mum was serving on one of her endless committees, and Jamie and I had spent the day lazing about, occasionally dipping into the pool and listening to music. As the sun went down the evening chill signalled it was time (for Jamie) to some clothes on and for the two of us to move indoors. The crickets were chirping and Old Mr Toad was serenading all the lady toads. Life was good. Mum came home and busied herself doing whatever it is that committee people do when they get home and Jamie and I had moved into our bedroom. I say “our” because it was an accepted fact that Jamie would be over at least 2 or three nights a week so her bed was kept made up. Mum went to bed and so it was just the two of us lying there, talking the night away. I guess it was around midnight when she got up to pee and clean her teeth.
I was lying there mindlessly thinking about nothing in particular when Jamie came back into the room lifting her tee shirt over her head as she walked, preparing I suppose to put on her pyjamas. And then I noticed her, saw her. She had been naked in front of me all day but suddenly, in that moment, I SAW her. Her breasts were perfectly shaped and topped with the most alluring little nipples. I don’t know how long I stared because the next thing I was aware of was Jamie snapping her fingers in front of my eyes saying “Is anybody home? Jamie to Sarah come in please. Over”
I was immediately startled and embarrassed. Here I was staring at my best friend's breasts, lost in a reverie of naughty fantasy. She was looking at me with the most beautiful and gentle expression of love in her eyes. She sat on my bed and took my hand in hers. She kissed the back of my hand and said “It’s ok Sarah. You can look.” Then she took my hand and placed it on her left breast. I had never felt anything so warm, so…. With a life of its own, so firm and so soft and so….. I ran out of adjectives. We sat there for minutes with her holding my hand to her breast. All the while her nipple hardening; poking into the clammy palm of my hand as I gazed intently into her blue eyes.
Around about this time I became aware of a tingling in my most private place. I found myself tightening my muscles trying desperately to hide what was happening to me. My body was having none of it and I swear my scent was permeating the room. In my imagination it was like the aroma of the town bakey in the early morning when the first bread of the day comes out of the oven and everybody is waiting for that aroma so they can send the children out to buy fresh bread. The entire town must have known what I was feeling.
We were looking at each other when she leaned forward and gently kissed me on the lips. The softest, warmest sensation I had ever felt. Her lips lingered for a little and then we, by mutual, unwritten signal, pulled away from each other. Her nipples were visibly hard and her legs had opened ever so slightly. She was wearing at this time no more than pale blue, bikini-cut, cotton panties. My eyes for a moment were drawn to her panties and I could see a little damp patch.
Jamie leaned in and putting her right hand under my chin, pulled me slightly to her mouth and kissed me again. This time, with more confidence and deliberate intent. My lips parted to receive the warm probing of her tongue which gently explored against my teeth behind my top lip, to the roof of my mouth. Her mouth tasted of toothpaste and mouth wash and was just the most beautiful and tender place. My hands, as with a mind of their own, were exploring her body.
We pulled away from each other and Jamie whispered “take your top off”. I had never undressed for anybody before. I had been nude and got undressed in front of Jamie but never undressed for her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to undo the buttons of my cotton blouse, slowly slide it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She looked at me and silently nodded to my unspoken question. I stretched around and unclipped my bra; sliding it off my shoulders I bared my breasts to her. It was as if for the first time. The jumble of emotion, the shyness the thrill and the excitement overwhelmed me.
We kissed again and Jamie lay back on the bed, my left arm behind her and my right hand still playing with her breasts. Her right thigh between my legs seemed so warm and so…… comfortable. I was tightening my legs around her thigh, rubbing my now obviously wet sex against her. Scarily I could feel the tingling building to something I didn’t understand. All I knew was that my breathing was ragged and my humping of her thigh was becoming more deliberate. I was so enjoying the sensation of the grazing of my most intimate and sensitive place, against the inside of my panties.
The kissing was now hungry, almost aggressive. Jamie’s nails were raking down my back and she was breathing as raggedly as I was. O what sensations, what terror of the unknown. I wanted to scream to shout out to the world what was happening to me but I knew intuitively to be quiet. As if on cue, we seemed both to tense in some sort of primeval ritualistic dance, and shudder. We were taken up beyond the clouds and the rain.
We lay back together, contemplating I suppose, what had just happened and basking in the glow of it all. We eventually must have fallen asleep like that because that's how mum found us in the morning.
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/lesbian/jamie-part-i.aspx">Jamie (Part I)</a>