I opened my eyes and felt a momentary rush of panic. I expected to see the light shining through my blue curtains into my bedroom and hear the familiar sound of the shower and splashing from the bathroom as James prepared himself for the morning commute to the office. Instead, all I saw was blackness. It must still be night-time
Gradually, my vision came into focus and I saw that it wasn’t completely dark. It was dim but there was bright light somewhere. I moved my head and saw that a thin strip of sunlight was shining into the room at the edge of some heavy, drawn curtains. Then I noticed the heat. My naked body was covered in perspiration. Why is the heating on in July?
It didn’t feel right. It was hot but it was humid too. Perhaps James had already been in the shower, steaming everything up. That doesn’t usually happen
I turned to see if he was lying beside him in bed. There was no sign of him. The thin sheet was crumpled but otherwise the bed did not seem to have been slept in. It isn’t my bed!
I sat up. My clothes were lying unfolded over what looked like a big old dark wooden chest in the corner - the type that you see in those home decor stores that specialise in fitting out trendy modern homes with materials and rustic furniture from places like Asia, Africa and South America. My hand touched something on the bed beside me. I opened my eyes, shocked. Beside me lay a large, black, penis-shaped dildo. I had only ever seen one on the odd website or in sex shops on visits to Amsterdam. What on earth…..where did it come from?
I picked it up with my thumb and forefinger and looked at it curiously. It had veins, the foreskin was drawn back and it had a smooth tip, just like the real thing. A sudden spark, like a small electric shock, hit me deep inside. I raised it to my nose and sniffed. My god, it smells like me – like my fingers after I had frigged myself…….
The realisation stung home. But I have never even seen one, let alone used one. Surely this big thing wouldn’t even fit inside me.
Despite my mild but growing sense of trepidation, I didn’t feel frightened. I was fighting an urge to put the tip in my mouth – to feel the smooth tip with my tongue. I altered my grip to hold it like I would hold my boyfriend’s cock when I was wanking him. It felt a little larger maybe but it still had a familiarity about it – the same kind of feel as a real cock. I put out my tongue. Perhaps if I just licked the tip
Then, my growing desire took over from caution and I pushed it further into my open mouth until my lips had engulfed the head and with my tongue, I felt the veins and that particularly sensitive spot on the underside that seemed to drive men crazy when it is licked. I slowly drew it out of my mouth and put it back on the bed.
I stood and walked over to the bright strip of sunlight and pulled the curtain back slightly. My eyes were hit by a wave of intense brightness, blinding and making me blink until they had adjusted themselves. Outside, I saw a jungle of lush tropical vegetation - tall palm trunks and bright green, broad leafed plants. Where the fuck am I?
More confused than ever, I allowed the curtain to remain slightly open to allow more light into the dark room and I turned to look around. On a chair across the room, I saw more clothes and walked across to them. I got a shock. Instead of my boyfriend’s jeans and tee shirt, I found a dark blue sun dress and a pretty pink lacy half-cup bra! 34C – nice but not mine.
My brain struggled to make some sense out of it all. I desperately tried to remember the night before but the harder I tried the blanker it became. I really didn’t have the faintest recollection of coming to this room or of who my female companion might have been. I needed to pee so I turned to find a bathroom. Strangely, it was exactly where I had expected to find it. Well wherever I am, it must be an hotel.
Turning on the light I sat on the toilet, feeling the relief from the pressure in my abdomen as my bladder emptied. The items arrayed on the marble surface next to the sink caught my eye. My toothbrush, toothpaste and moisturiser…. There was plenty that I recognized, but other things that I definitely didn’t – a second toothbrush, a bottle of Chance by Chanel. I picked up a plastic bottle and squeezed some expensive soap onto my hands from a plastic bottle. It wasn’t mine either. I dried my hands on a fluffy white towel and picked up the Chanel. Opening the bottle, I put a spot on the inside of my wrists and inhaled the fragrance.
For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw a flash of bright light and a picture flashed into my head. A woman with dark, shoulder length hair…and then the picture was gone but her scent remained in my memory – Chance by Chanel.
Stepping back inside the bedroom, I returned to the unknown woman’s clothes. On the floor, I noticed a flash of pink and bent to pick it up. It was the matching thong to go with the bra on the chair. For some reason, I could not stop myself from lifting it to my nose and sniffing. It smelled strongly of the woman and I felt my knees go a little bit weak, a stirring deep within my pussy. What am I doing?
But I sniffed again, deeply inhaling the sexual scent of the woman. I could feel myself becoming aroused even as I tried again to recall my unknown companion. The fragrance of Chanel seemed familiar but nothing more. A thought hit me like a lightning bolt. Surely I didn’t…I mean…I’m not a lesbian…I have a boyfriend…I like cocks.
But I could not deny that my arousal was real. I could feel the tell-tale signs as the walls of my vagina starting to moisten when I sniffed the sex-soiled underwear in my hand.
Suddenly, across the bed, lying screwed up in a ball, I noticed my own deep red satin thong. I shuffled over on my knees to grasp it. As I held it, I was struck by another sudden flash and I saw a picture. It seemed as though I was looking through slightly blurred lens – the sort that photographers use when they want to catch a sense of romance or Christmas morning around the tree. But for the briefest second I saw wrists bound in dark red satin ties. My thong! ... My wrists!
I lost control of my body and I just couldn’t prevent myself from pushing the woman’s pink thong into my mouth. I had to taste it. My head flashed again and I glimpsed a new shard of memory. I was lying on this bed. A woman was kneeling beside me but I still couldn’t see her face or features. Her dark hair draped her shoulders and neck. She was wearing the pink bra and thong. I could see the way the bra pushed up her breasts to form two round mounds that drew my eye - and made me lick my lips. Who is she?... Why can’t I remember?
The woman was tying the dark red satin thong around my wrists. She pushed my arms to the rustic, heavy wooden headboard and rested them there. What’s going on? I could easily escape from that…surely I can’t be enjoying it.
But I knew that I was, from the wetness, growing inside me. As I continued to watch my memory, the woman unfastened her bra and threw it onto the chair behind her. In my head, I stared at her breasts as she slowly pull down her thong. My god, she had just pushed the wet, stained thong into my mouth. I still didn’t seem to be making any attempt to escape. I wanted it! I wanted her to do this to me.
This came as a surprise. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that it was true and yet, here was my body, clearly telling me that I hoped it was true. The memory faded again. I wanted to remember, but I couldn’t. Sitting there on the bed, tasting the signs of another woman’s sexual arousal, I found myself touching my nipples. Their sensitivity was heightened, almost matching that of my clit. I wanted to keep on doing it. I was kneeling on the bed, massaging and cupping my breasts, pinching the nipples until they could grow no further.
I caught sight of my own reflection in the long mirror on the wall at the end of the bed. My excitement suddenly leapt to another level as I watched myself. I felt slutty seeing the thong in my mouth but it made me want to squeeze my breasts even more. I could see the light reflecting off the sheen of perspiration that covered my body and was beginning to run in rivulets from the gap between my breasts, down towards my tummy button. I parted my knees as wide as I could so that I could see my own pussy in the reflection. It looks so wet and pink. I wish I could sink my tongue into it and lick my clit.
The thought only increased my arousal. I thought about the dildo lying beside me and picked it up. It’s too big but I could just rub it over my clit…
I grasped it in both hands and moved it down to the wet slit between my legs. In the mirror I saw how the tip pushed my outer lips apart as I rubbed it over my clitoris that was already swollen and waiting. Within seconds, I saw that the dildo was already slick with the fluids from my pussy. Maybe I could just use the end. That probably wouldn’t hurt.
I positioned the base of the dildo on the bed between my legs, the tip pointing towards the entrance to my waiting cunt and I let myself fall slowly onto it. The tip push past the entrance and I felt it stretch my narrow opening. I lifted my weight and withdrew the massive toy. That didn’t hurt. It felt good.
I let my hips sink again. Again I watched and felt the tip of the artificial cock move inside me. I lowered my hips a little more and almost yelled as I felt the body of the cock stretch and penetrate my cunt. I closed my eyes and kept going. Inch by inch, I felt myself being invaded and filled by the huge phallus. I was amazed at how much I had taken. Slowly I found a rhythm, raising and lowering myself onto the cock beneath me. I felt the juices from inside me begin to leak around the edges and cover my hands in sticky fluid. Taste it! I want to taste it.
With the dildo wedged as deep inside me as it would go, I paused and raised my hands to my mouth. I removed the makeshift gag and thrust my wet, sticky fingers inside, sucking and licking the juices off them.
My mind flashed and suddenly, through the mist covered lens, I saw myself again. I was still lying on the bed with my hands tied and raised above my head. A woman bent towards my face. She removed the underwear from my mouth and threw it onto the floor. She began to kiss me. Not a ‘hello – how have you been?’ sort of kiss. In my mind’s eye I saw a full-on, passionate, exchange-of-tongues sort of kiss. I felt my own tongue reach out and enter deeply into her mouth. God – it’s so hot. I want to feel it again. I want to remember it.
The woman looked like she must be pretty. Her dark hair was thick and lustrous. It moved like wheat blowing in the breeze as she moved but it obscured her features. I could see the bones of her neck and shoulders. She kissed my neck. She moved down to kiss my shoulders and then my chest. Now she was licking my breast but not touching my pointing nipples with her tongue at all. I can feel it. Here…now, I can feel it. Why can’t I remember?
Her head moved as her tongue lapped at the flesh of my breast. The valley between my breasts was slick with sweat. The woman lapped it up with her tongue and then moved on to attend to my other breast. My tits I can feel her licking my tits. Why doesn’t she touch my nipples?
A moment later, I had my answer. I drew in my breath as I saw – and felt – the woman take my nipple between her teeth and tease it. I felt the rapid flick of a tongue. And I felt my nipple being sucked deep inside the stranger’s mouth.
The image faded from my mind. I was back kneeling on the bed, impaled on the imitation phallus, desperately squeezing my tits and pulling my sensitive nipples until they hurt. I began to lift my ass off the bed and felt the slick cock slide out of my cunt. Cunt…I have always detested that word and yet now I can’t get it out of my head.
I was desperate to know the woman. A sudden urge made her stand and pull her thong over my hips. Whoever they belong to is the same size as me.
I pulled them tight into the slit of my pussy and the crack of my ass. I wanted to imagine the sensation of the woman’s love juices mingling with mine deep inside my bare pussy lips.
My mind flashed again. I saw the stranger, straddle my body and move upwards. For the first time, I saw the woman’s breasts as they dangled over my face. They were firm but not big. I remembered the pink bra – 34C. Give me them. I want to suck your nipples and feel them hard inside my mouth.
The woman lowered her shoulders until her breasts pressed into my face. I could feel the soft flesh pressing against me. I felt my tongue go out to taste the saltiness of her perspiration. Behind the woman’s head I caught sight of something moving.
Back in my room I looked up and for the first time I saw a large fan on the ceiling. It wasn’t moving now. It really must have happened. I didn’t even know that fan was there until a second ago. I saw if first in my memory. It can’t have been a dream. But I’ve never been with a woman. I would have remembered.
I lay down on the bed, still wearing the stranger’s thong. I was more aroused than I could ever remember and pulled the thong to one side. It was already wet with the juices from my own pussy. My finger found my clit behind its protective sheath and began to circle it slowly.
My memories were lasting longer now but I still felt as though I was watching a film - something that happened to someone else. It still didn’t feel real to me. Now when I closed my eyes, I saw the stranger allowing me to take a nipple in her mouth, her breasts still dangling above my face. I can feel it against my tongue – filling my mouth.
My hands were still raised over my head, tied in my thong. I was clearly still playing the game. The woman slowly slid downwards, stopping when her breast s reached mine. She let our nipples touch. She moved so that her breasts swayed above mine touching me with a touch lighter than a feather. I can feel them on my nipples. It’s like an electric shock shooting through my tits.
The stranger dropped her shoulders and touched my lips for another long kiss, the flesh of their breast s and the hardness of their nipples pressing against mine heavily. She was moving again, her breasts sliding easily over my perspiration covered body. She stopped, to roughly suck and bite on my breasts and nipples already bursting with sensation. I saw her smile. It was lovely.
Down, down slid the stranger’s body, pausing to lick a bead of sweat out of my tummy button before continuing her journey. I felt the stranger’s hands slip beneath the cheeks of my ass and lift me slightly off the bed before plunging her face into the slippery folds of my waiting pussy. My hands finally tugged themselves out of their satin bindings as they reached for the dark hair. Her tongue was driving me wild.
The image faded again and I was back, lying on the bed in the stranger’s underwear, rubbing my fingers around my clit and along my swollen slit, in and out of my hot, wet cunt. I thought about my last vision of the stranger’s tongue burying itself deep inside me. I could feel an orgasm approaching. The juices from my cunt had mixed with my sweat and formed a river that ran down into the crack of my ass. I pushed my thumb deep inside my cunt and buried my index finger as far into the tightness of my ass as it would reach. My middle finger joined it and I came in waves, electric sensations shot up and down my body and my cunt squirted streams of white, sticky fluid over my hands and ass. Yes, yes, yes lick me Paula, fuck my ass with your fingers. Drink my cum. Oh Paula, Paula.
Suddenly I shot bolt upright. The woman was called Paula! I laid back and remembered. In my mind, I saw her lift her face from my pussy and look right at me. Her mouth and chin were coated with my cum but she was no longer a stranger. The dark hair framed a small face with huge green eyes, edged with attractive laughter lines. Pink lips formed a perfect cupid’s bow shape. And she wore the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
I can clearly remember that at that moment, I wanted this woman to take me in her arms and hold me: to kiss me and never let me go. Her green eyes had melted my heart.
I remember watching her beautiful smiling face as she moved towards me. Her breasts had jiggled sensuously as she had moved up the bed. As she came nearer I leaned forward and kissed her. I could taste my own juices on her face and tongue and it had driven me wild with desire. Her hands had played expertly with my swollen breasts and I had tried to do the same with her. I tried to copy her movements as she taught me how to pleasure another woman. I remembered desperately wanting to to taste her and I felt it again now, here alone on my bed. It made me want to plunge the dildo back inside me but I was feeling too frenzied and I laid back on the bed as she had laid me. Both of my hands were working on my pussy, one rubbing my clit, the other plunged deeply inside my cunt. I reached a finger around to my ass and pushed it deeply into the hole, still wet from my first orgasm. I loved the feel of holding a finger in each hole. I want to taste her again so badly right now, to plunge my tongue deep inside her just as she had shown me.
As I laid there on my own in the dark room, I closed my eyes and the memories came flooding back to me.
I had wanted to make her cum too. I remembered the ceiling fan turning above us and then she had straddled my face. Never before had I even imagined seeing another woman’s pussy in such fine detail. I could see her swollen outer lips topped by a strip of dark pubic hair. Her inner folds were fuchsia pink and waiting to be drawn into my mouth. With her legs kneeling on either side of me, I was looking directly at the entrance to her cunt already moist with the juice that I wanted so badly to lap up with my waiting tongue. Her clitoris had escaped from its protection and swollen. The rosebud of her beautiful ass hovered above my eyes.
Back on my bed, my hips bucked again as my fingers brought me to another climax, remembering what happened next. She had lowered herself towards my waiting tongue and lips. I remember trying to plunge my tongue straight inside her but she moved, guiding me towards her clit. I had learned quickly and gained some control over myself. She had wanted me to go slowly and I had obliged. I lapped at her clit and all around it , touching it sometimes with my lips and sucking her inner folds deep inside my mouth. Her hands were resting on her thighs, but every now and then, when I did something that she really liked, she had grabbed my breasts and pulled my nipples to reward me. Her hands had spent more and more time on my breasts as I quickly learned what was good and what was not so good. Her hips had begun to make small circles above my face and she guided her cunt to my waiting tongue. She gasped as I plunged it as deeply inside her as I possibly could. In and out I had licked her and fucked her with my tongue. I’m cumming again. Oh god, I’m cumming again!
Again she had moved until I found that I was doing the same to her ass, my sharp, pointed tongue slipping easily in and out of her tight hole. By then she had been squeezing my tits until they hurt but all I can remember is that I had wanted her to keep doing it. I never wanted her to let go because it had meant that I was making her feel as wonderful as I had felt.
I was aware that her orgasm must have been near but suddenly, to my dismay, she had lifted herself away from my tongue and turned to sit facing me on the bed. She had taken hold of my hands and pulled me up to sit cross-legged facing her. We had kissed and then she moved her legs and pulled mine until they crossed like two pairs of scissors: she had pushed my body back down on the bed and leaned back herself. She shuffled forward until suddenly I had realised what she was doing and I moved to help her. Our two pussies were now pressed hard together, clit to clit. Locked together in this position, our hips had rotated, grinding our clits together, the sweat and the passion mounting until, as one we both burst in a wonderful orgasm.
Back on the bed I remembered that my pussy had squirted my juices all over her belly and still she kept on grinding against me for minute after glorious minute. I never knew that orgasm could last so long. Afterwards we lay locked together breathing heavily until sleep had overtaken me. I can’t remember what happened next. Why can’t I remember? We must have showered but I can’t remember. Where did she go?
The next thing that I remember clearly is waking up naked in this darkened room alone this morning.
I went to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of my recent orgasms. I fully intended to go out and look for her, but it I must have been still jet-lagged after my arrival yesterday – now I could remember that quite clearly – the long flight from London to Antigua and the arrival at the hotel. Was it only yesterday? It seems like longer. Paula – I remember you. But how did we meet? Where are you?
I needed a nap and then I would go and have a walk down to the hotel’s beach to find everyone: just a short nap. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow…
When I woke up the room was streaming with sunlight through the open curtains. I could feel the cool draught of the ceiling fan as it washed over me. Looking around, I saw that someone had been in to tidy while I was sleeping. Good job I pulled the sheet over me. The dildo!
I looked around in panic, a growing sense of embarrassment sweeping over me. It was gone. Oh god - what will the room maid think of me? Perhaps Paula came back and took it and her things while I was sleeping. That must be it – she didn’t want to wake me.
I decided to shower and go to explore and see if I could find my mysterious partner. What would I say to her?
‘Um, thank you for a wonderful night but unfortunately I can’t really remember much about it. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much! Oh and by the way, I hope you don’t mind but I used your dildo again and squirted cum juice in your underwear but now I can’t find them.’
I don’t think that would go down too well. I mean she broke my lesbian virginity. That must be an important occasion, worth remembering.
Under the streams of warm water, I cupped my breasts as I thought about James. A tear escaped my eye as I soaped my body. Our wedding day was last Saturday. This luxury trip to Antigua was our perfect honeymoon. It had taken months of saving and planning to make it happen. He was so excited about it and had booked himself on to sail boarding and diving courses weeks ago. I smiled as I thought about his grinning face the day the tickets arrived. Why did you have to cycle to work on that day of all days? It was raining so hard! Why didn’t you take the tube like normal people?
The doctors had told me that he probably didn’t even see the bus that hit him. Massive trauma they had said. If it was any comfort, he had died instantly.
Well it wasn’t any comfort! I had cancelled the wedding and returned the gifts. I didn’t sleep for days. I became zombie-like – just getting through the pain as best I could. Then one morning – only last week – I woke up and felt better. I had dreamed about James and he told me that it was going to be okay – that I had to carry on because he hated seeing me so unhappy. Above all, I was to go on our honeymoon and enjoy it for him too. He would see that I was okay. And that was it! Five days later, I was boarding a plane at London airport. The flight was hard and long. The man next to me was very nice but I couldn’t help thinking that it should have been James.
I snapped out of my reverie and pulled on a bikini and pareo ready to go off and explore and maybe find Paula.
There was a bar with open sides, looking out over the beach of white sand and sparkling blue sea. The sea was dotted with coloured sails and there was a breeze that kept the away a little but did nothing to stop the assault of the natural brightness on my eyes.
“Hello,” said a voice beside me, “on your own? Do you mind if I join you?”
After a few minutes of chatting and sharing long, fruity cocktails, I had already poured out my story right up until my arrival at the hotel yesterday. My new friend told me that she was from Florida. She had recently lost her husband.
“He was a wonderful man – 25 years older than me but very distinguished, with grey hair and a winning smile.”
She had met him and fallen in love with him ten years before, when she was only 33. He had just lost his first wife to cancer, but after a whirlwind romance they had married. They came to this hotel for their honeymoon too and had been back may times since. Then last year they found out that he had developed prostate cancer and a few months ago he died. This was her first holiday since then.
With something like that in common, I quickly felt a bond forming.
“Would you like to join me for dinner later?” she asked, “I hate eating alone. I only just arrived so I want to go and unpack and take a shower. Why don’t we meet up at seven in the bar?”
She leaned across the low table to shake hands properly and suddenly, on the breeze, I caught a hint of her perfume. Chance by Chanel. How strange.
She took off her sunglasses and I was stunned to see her lovely bright green eyes smiling back at me.
“My name is Paula, by the way,” she said. “What’s yours?
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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