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Shannon, Part 1

The story of my first experience with another woman...
We met through an online ad, which, by today’s standards, is neither surprising nor uncommon. But this was some years ago, and I was as hesitant about answering her ad as she was about placing it. The fact that I DID was, as it turned out, nothing short of serendipity--for once I met her, I knew I had to have her. What I didn’t (and couldn’t) know, however, was how much she would risk in order to be with me.

The ad said something to the effect of: Bi-curious petite blonde female, 24, mommy of a perfect two-year-old son, and new to the area. Lonely, with hubby out to sea. In search of similar female for friendship and possibly more. It was short, simple and to the point; no picture…and yet its understated simplicity screamed to me on a web page over-run with ads featuring histrionic and otherwise outlandish ploys for attention.

She’d only been in the area a few months, a hazard of the military lifestyle—something I could relate to as both a veteran and, now, a dependent wife. What really struck me about the situation was that she was not only in the USN (as I was once), but she was also in the same exact field as I’d been. (Without getting into specifics, I will say that this particular field requires intense scrutiny in terms of personal character and background, which put me to ease a bit, since I at least knew she couldn’t be criminal or demented). There was an instant camaraderie borne of that and, in truth, I don’t know that I’d have answered her messages otherwise.

I was thirty at the time and going through a long, drawn out, and contentious divorce. A mother of three, I was fortunate enough also to be involved in a live-in relationship with a man with whom I was deeply in love. I was aware, however, of a developing draw toward women as well now—certain women, actually—and it was a force of such magnetism and curiosity that I felt compelled to explore it. I’m not sure my partner was as excited about my decision as I was, but he seemed willing to accept it. I imagine it helped that, in his mind, there was a chance it might lead to the fulfillment of one of HIS fantasies: a threesome with two women (as you may have guessed).

After exchanging a number of emails and, eventually, phone calls, we decided to meet each other. Neither of us had ever been with another woman, but we were both equally excited about the prospect. The main draw for each of us, though, seemed to be the promise of a blooming friendship. For her part, she’d seen a picture of me and appeared to find me attractive, but I’d not been as lucky. As it turned out, I would not be at all disappointed.

The name of my little muse (as you may have guessed) was Shannon. Standing at a petite five-feet even, she had a demeanor about her that was so refreshing it actually overwhelmed me at times. Naturally thin, she was somehow blessed with the breasts of a goddess: natural, high-seated 32DDs that she tried to hide in modesty but, with a tiny little waist and cute little curved ass, she was fighting a losing battle. Her hair was light blonde, straight and cut in a cute bob just above the collar. With wide bluish eyes, a cute, thin nose and adorably cherub-like lips, she had a look of innocence and openness that took my breath away. She was the kind of girl who appeared to be exactly what she WAS, and I found myself instantly warming—and attracted--to her from the moment we said hello.

We got on well from the start; it was as if we’d known each other forever. She was the perfect yin to my yang: I have a rather dynamic (and, in my mind, occasionally overwhelming) personality: I am passionate (maybe, at times, a bit too passionate) about people, life and anything of the cerebral sort, and more than one person has accused me of “oozing sexuality”. She, on the other hand, was rather quiet and appeared to be utterly innocent and demure. With a cute, soft voice that made you have to listen intently to hear, she seemed like the consummate good-girl.

However, once she began to open up and get comfortable, Shannon began to reveal a wicked, flirty, sexual streak that caught me off-guard. I first became aware of it one evening at dinner when, rather suddenly, I felt her toes sensually glide across my bare leg underneath the table. It shocked me, to be honest—it was so out-of-the-blue--and I could feel the heat of a ruddy blush crawl across my face as I looked at her, wide-eyed and surprised, as she licked her upper lip and winked at me. We were in public, in a restaurant, with men glaring at us and trying to get our attention from both table and bar, and rather than flirting back, we were wholly absorbed in each other…enjoying the subtle dance two do when they each want the other to want them. And it was her—not ME— making the first move.

As we sipped our wine and toyed with our salads, it became obvious that dinner was the last thing either of us was interested in devouring. Unsure of myself, I shyly glanced up at Shannon and shot her my sexiest, coy smile. She reached her tiny, lithe hand across the table and took mine with such delicacy you might imagine it was made of glass. She brought it to her mouth, kissed it sensually, then lowered it to rest on her heart.

“Can you feel that? My heart is racing!” She exclaimed, her sweet little voice a note or two higher than usual. I felt a jolt pass through me, the product of a unique blend of embarrassment, nervousness, and thrill. I looked around, noticed two young, attractive men turned in their bar seats to watch us, and the thrill intensified. I directed our entwined hands down the “V” of her blouse, ever-so-slightly brushed against the top of her stunning, round mounds of flesh, and pulled our hands back to take her fingers into my mouth and delicately lick them. She shivered, looked over at the men (who were now, in their inebriated states, making a bit of a scene reacting to these two blondes seated fifteen feet away and blatantly lusting after each other), looked back at me, closed her sweet grey-blue eyes and moaned. I called for the check.

“Let’s go back to my place and watch a movie,” she suggested. Watching a movie was the last thing I wanted to do, and I assumed she felt the same way. This was all part of the same game that men and women play—a coy way of saying, I really hope to get you naked and alone to do unimaginably naughty things with you, without actually saying it.

As I drove us back to her home, my wicked little vixen saw great opportunity in my inability to attend to her and decided to heighten the excitement of our game. As we chatted about some nonsense or other, she ran her fingers gently up my thigh, back down it, and up again--each time cleverly pushing my skirt up a bit higher. The sound of Shannon’s bare fingernails tracing across my stockings seemed overshadowed only by the rapidity of our mutually accelerated breathing and it was clear, from the look on her face and the throaty moans she cared not to disguise, that she took great delight in the reaction she was receiving.

By the time we arrived at her house, her fingers were just barely tracing across the now-wet crotch of my panties—seemingly teasing my clit out of its happy little hiding place. I turned off the car and turned to look at her and, before I knew it, she reached over and placed her hand behind my head, pulled me to her, and kissed me as passionately as I’d ever been kissed. The taste of Chardonnay lingered on her delicate tongue as it invited mine to mingle a bit; her lips were soft as silk as they glided across my own, then enthusiastically moved to my neck. Movie, my ass! My delicate little waif was going to take me to her bed and fuck the daylights out of me!

Once inside, I could hardly close the front door before her hands were all over me, grabbing at my cardigan, desperately pulling at the buttons to release me from its hold. I turned my face, from watching in disbelief the fluttering of her anxious hands at my top, to witness an even more seductive sight: she was biting her lip, her eyes wide and hungry, and she was breathing as if she’d just finished a runner’s race. With no sense of either pretense or anxiety, she grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom. She sat me down atop a dainty pink quilt, among the frilly lace pillows of her bed, and knelt before me. In a moment’s time, she’d managed to unbutton every one of the twenty or so tiny pearl buttons of my sweater and began to pull it from my shoulders and arms. As I sat, breasts heaving and straining beneath my black, thin lace bra, she placed her tiny hands on my knees and slowly pushed my skirt up to my hips. Awaiting below: black stockings held up with a skimpy black lace garter, a very wet pair of black thongs, and my quite eager pussy.

I stood and she quickly reached around to grab the zipper pull of my skirt and, in the blink of an eye, it was off. Now virtually naked, I took Shannon’s hands into mine and gently raised her up onto her feet. As I pulled at the hem of her blouse, she raised her arms up to allow me to remove it. She stood before me, pants still on and, in that moment, she immediately became so self-conscious that she tried desperately to cover the entirety of her exposed stomach with her arms.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked as I tried, with gentle grace, to pry them away from her body. It was the strangest thing: in literally seconds, she seemed to go from sultry seductress to shy, insecure adolescent. I could feel myself shifting from the lust-driven frenzy she’d worked me into toward a mood of motherly concern.

“I’m embarrassed about my stomach.” She quietly replied. Being such a tiny girl, having a nine-pound son had stretched the skin of her tiny waist into something resembling bread dough. Did it look out of place on the otherwise perfect specimen standing so shyly before me? Sure. Did it make me want her any less? Fuck no.

“Shannon, you are absolutely gorgeous and I cannot tell you how much I want this,” I assured her. “I don’t give a shit about your stomach, and I hope you don’t want me any less for any imperfections I feel I have. What makes me want you is….well, yeah, you’ve got an amazing body and the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen, but what I am most enthralled with is your personality,” I went on. “You are the sweetest, most wonderful girl I’ve ever met. And I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

The smile that crept across my darling’s face told me everything. This was a girl who was not only able, but also completely willing, to be vulnerable with me. She had no secrets, no ill intent—she was exactly as she presented herself, and just as she was placing all her faith in me, I knew I could do the same. We needed waste no time hammering it all out.

I fumbled with the button on Shannon’s slacks, and she reached down to help me, then placed her hands over my shoulders. I knelt down as I eased each pant leg down and off, then threw them aside. She took a deep, deliberate breath as I brushed my lips against her stomach—carefully tending to the small folds of flabby flesh. I flicked my tongue lightly across them, and began to lick downward toward the waistband of her pretty little pink floral panties. As I began to nudge my tongue down beneath it, she reached under my arms and pulled me up to face her. We locked in a gentle, impassioned kiss, then both eased each other onto the bed. I rolled over and crawled above her, and instantly wondered if this was how my man felt when he was hovering above me right before we made love. For a moment, I honestly wished I had a dick—maybe just for a day—so that I could experience what it’s like to be a man…especially a man making love to this goddess below me. I closed my eyes and thought of how it must feel to be able to enter that tight, pale little pussy, to fill it with every inch of (what I imagined would be) my long, rigid cock, as I stared into her pale blue, sparkling eyes. I wanted to hear her gasp and stare back with the same lusty, electrified look that were in mine. I wanted to devour and own her.

I opened my eyes as I felt her gentle, delicate fingers linger along the globes of my ass. To my amazement, she was already looking at me the way I’d just imagined, and as she brought her lips up to mine, she whispered against them, “I can’t believe this. I feel like we were meant to meet.”

“I believe we were,” I offered, and ran my tongue along her full lower lip. I pondered, momentarily, whether or not her other lips would feel as soft, warm, and damp, and my thoughts floated long to deliberate how she must taste. I lowered my lips to her enormous and pale, fleshy breasts, then began to run my tongue along them, inching ever closer toward her rosy little nipple. She brought a hand up and laid it gently atop my hair, then began, slowly, to caress me while I enjoyed the curves and texture of my very first female tit. I lightly rubbed one nipple between my lips, then suckled it in like a baby about to nurse. I closed my eyes and remembered the sensation when I first felt it myself, as my own newborn daughter hungrily struggled toward nourishment. Shannon sighed, then giggled as I rolled the tip of her nipple around behind my tongue.

“You have the most amazing tits I’ve ever seen,” I sighed, and turned to the other breast. “And they’re huge! I love it!” I began to play with this breast just as I had the other, causing her to giggle yet again.

“You can have them any time you want!” she exclaimed, then rolled her head back and allowed herself to fully submit to my wandering touch. I wasted no time. I began to kiss and lick down her body, inching myself closer to her soft, awaiting mound and, as I did, her breathing picked up. I could smell the delicate scent of her arousal; it wafted up to greet me as I moved myself closer to its origin. It suddenly dawned on me that she must be as wet as I, and I felt foolish for not thinking of it sooner. As I reached down to pull her panties off, she arched her back and let out what can only be described as a squeal of utter delight. Encouraged, I moved lower, between her legs, and gently ran my fingers further toward that sweet, forbidden center, until I felt the wet and pert nub of her clit. I dipped my fingers below it, and soon they were bathing in the warm pool of her interior labia. She arched her back again and gasped as I ran one finger up to her clit and circled it lightly, while my thumb explored her tight, wet interior. As I did, my lips were gently making their way down the cascades of her belly--down to her hot, wet, electric cunt. With each kiss further along, she gasped as if I were already there, and I sensed it had been a long time since she’d been treated with such careful attention--if ever. I couldn’t help but smile as she urged me further down, her hips gyrating in a plea to quicker action.

As I ran my pointed tongue along the tiny patch of blonde hair situated just above her ripe clit, she pushed, once again, up toward me and her hands grabbed at my hair. I decided to toy with her a bit and began to move my mouth back up her mons, back toward her stomach, and she whined and shook her head.

“Please! No!” she begged, and placed her other hand in my hair as well. I sat up, looked at her, and was delighted to see Shannon looked frenzied—her forehead and upper lips were moist with sweat, and her eyes had a glaze to them…her large, dark pupils hiding the brilliant blue I usually saw. I was mischievous, not cruel. I swooped down and took her swollen, red clit between my lips to gently nibble at it. She cried out in approval, and her fingers clenched at my scalp. I’d never been this close to another vagina before, and I really wasn’t sure what to do. I started imagining it was my own, and lowered my tongue to her labia and began lapping at the tangy fluid between her lips. In an instant, she bucked against my jaw so hard she almost knocked it out of alignment. Looking up, she apologized profusely; she was obviously embarrassed.

“Stop. Lie down, and let me have my fun.” I commanded, and she grinned like a kid at Christmas, then laid her head down again. I flattened my tongue and began to softly massage her clit gently, with the least bit of pressure I could manage, which caused her to throw her hands down onto the sheets and grab at them fervently.

For a moment, I lifted my head up, expecting her to buck again, and she must have understood this, because she assured me. “I won’t hurt your jaw again, I promise. But, fuck, that feels so good!” I went back to work, tormenting her with a succession of teasing laps of my tongue—first to her clit, then dipping into her hot, wet, and obviously voracious cunt. She desperately tried not to thrash, but she was having little luck as she gasped and cried out for me to continue. I reached down, finally, and slowly began to finger her as my tongue focused on the bud so taut it felt on the verge of rupture. She began to breathe so quickly, I thought she might be hyperventilating, but it was soon obvious she was close to coming.

“Oh yes, right there, please!” she gasped, and I felt her legs tighten up beside me, as she struggled not to thrash and kick. Suddenly, she arched her back a bit, threw a hand up onto my head to push my face further into her, and unleashed a furious wail as she began to come. I stayed on it as she rode the electrifying wave of orgasm through; she was panting and moaning like she’d never come before, and it was driving me wild. One arm braced her thighs down as I drew my finger deeper inside her pussy, then, as she was coming down off the high, I pulled it out and raised it to her hungry lips as I lapped up the pearly fluid slowly seeping out of her. She took my finger in her mouth as if it was her first meal in days, then propped herself up onto her elbows to watch me lick the remainders of her orgasm clean. Her eyes were still dilated, but the blue outlining her pupils had deepened to a cornflower blue.

“I cannot believe how hard I came! I’ve NEVER come that hard!” she exclaimed, and as I looked up at her, she gently put her finger to my lower lip and brushed across it. “I want to taste you. I want you to sixty-nine me,” she sighed, and sat up to turn around. Who was I to argue? We had the entire night, after all….

(To be continued.)

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © © KLM 2012

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