I could never confront myself with my sexuality; I was always debating if I was straight or not. My parents would kill me if I so much as looked at a girl the wrong way, but males never felt right. I finally had the chance to figure things out when I met Leila. I was 21 and working as a bartender. The men there would always yell at me, telling me to take off my shirt or to stand up on the bar. I would always refuse, but that didn't stop some unlawful squeezing of my rump. I hated it.
It was a chilly late summer-early fall night, not that busy, when Leila walked in. She was wearing simply a pair of black skinny jeans and a cute red top, her heels making her nearly a head above the average woman. I was sadly forced into usual bar attire- a black t-shirt that read the bar's name on it, hugging at my waist and my seemingly large breasts, and a black miniskirt. She sat right in front of me and smiled, her long blonde locks bouncing in her ponytail.
"What would you suggest on the menu?" She asked, her voice a bit rough.
"It depends, do you want something that'll make you act like him-" I asked, pointing to the man drunkenly dancing on a poor lady (presumably his wife). "-or him?" I asked, pointing to the man passed out in the corner.
She laughed. "Neither, I guess." She stuck out her hand. "Leila."
I shook her hand. "Andrea." I began to wipe up the bar, seeing that it was close to closing. "What brings you out here?"
"My girlfriend," She replied, much to my shock. She had a persona that made it seem like she was straight. "But as soon as I got here, we had a fight and split up."
I put down the rag. "I'm sorry."
She waved me off. "Please, it's fine. She was being a complete bitch, plus it was over two weeks ago. Now she's visiting her family in Boston."
I smiled. "Well, at least you seem happy."
She smiled. "I am, I just need a little bit of fun." She bit her lip and looked me up and down. "And you seem like you'd be it."
We continued talking for the 45 minutes before closing. As everybody left, she stayed and helped me pick up all of the bottles.
"You know, Andrea," she said, standing up with a armload of beer bottles. "I absolutely love your look."
"My look?" I reply. I wasn't even 5'3; sure, I was skinny and maybe even 'petite', but my breasts were overly large along with my bottom. Many girls would enjoy it, but I hated it from the years of verbal abuse by the male population.
"Yes, your look. Your hair is absolutely gorgeous; I've always wanted hair that would do something. Mine would always lay flat, but yours is dark brown and wavy! I mean, it's amazing!" With her bottles now in the garbage bag, she came over and touched my hair. "It's so soft, and it goes with your eye color. And your body type is absolutely stunning." She said, tracing her hand down my arm. I smirked as I carried the bag through the bag door, to the garbage. She followed.
"I am not stunning." I tossed the bag into the dumpster and started to walk back to the door.
"You're right," she replied. "You're sexy." I stopped dead in my tracks, putting one hand on the brick wall and turned to face her. She towered above me as she backed me up towards it. "And I want you." She leaned down, pushing my back up against the wall and engulfed me in her tender kiss. God, when they said the best person you could kiss is a woman, they were right. I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed back, easily overtaken by her powerful lips. I snaked my tongue into her mouth as she began walking, me still attached to her kiss. We went through the open door and she sat me on the bar. My legs wrapped around her waist like a puzzle piece as her fingers began tracing down my back.
Her fingers began to gently lift my shirt up when I stopped her. "Don't you want this?" she asked, clearly upset.
"Yes, I just feel like it should be- better." I replied, giving her another kiss on the lips. "I think we should figure out something that would meet both our needs."
So, she sat down on a chair with me in her lap. We talked and figured out each others deepest desires. I admitted that I was into foreplay and a little bit of taboo. She admitted that she liked to be dominant and that she goes completely wild when she's teased. I enjoy tight clothes while she enjoys a lack of them. All the while, I had to stop her roaming hands when they traced up my leg and began to go under my shirt. I wanted it- but we had to wait. So we agreed on something: she would come after the bar closed the next night in the sexiest outfit possible. I would wear my uniform, but make it cover much less than it usually does.
With all of my escapades with her, I had missed the last bus. She agreed to drive me to my apartment after I locked up. When she dropped me off, we made out for a few minutes. I was almost to the front door of the building when she ran up, surprisingly fast considering she was in heels. "Let me have one touch, please. Just one."
"Fine. Touch anywhere you want."
I had expected her to go for my chest or my ass. Instead, she slipped her hand up my skirt. I glanced around, hoping nobody was outside at the moment. Her fingers touched my swollen clit and she discovered how wet I really was. Hearing my slight moan upon her touch, she plunged one finger into me and kissed my neck. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. I still made her stop and promise, "No masturbating." She groaned, but agreed yet again.
She gave me a final kiss on the lips, long and passionate. Whispering into my ear, she said, "See you tomorrow, slut." With that, she gave me a sexy smirk and a pinch on the ass and was gone.
I hated not being able to masturbate. She was all I could think about as I showered. My fingers began to make there way down, rubbing my clitoris and nearly inside of myself. I forced myself to stop, finally understanding what boys meant by "blue balls". It hurt.
I had a few different skirts and a few different tops. There was one that was so small that I would never
wear to the bar-usually. It went to right about where my ass stopped. Whenever I would walked, it would slide up and you would be able to see whatever was underneath. I set that out and looked through my shirts, finding the lowest cut one.
I stood in front of my floor length mirror and looked at my naked body. I had juices running down my legs from my recently waxed vagina. I looked at my breasts and remembered my high school sweetheart, the only boy who had ever seen my chest and who had ever hit a "home run" with me. John. The name brought a smile to my face. He was the sweetest. He would tell me that my breasts were marvellous and perky and that he would never have sex with anybody else. Little to say, I was upset by that. Frankly, he sucked. After I broke up with him, he got angry. He sent topless pictures of me around, saying that my breasts were saggy.
I sighed and put on my pajamas. I never felt the same because of him. But now, Leila makes me feel like a star. I feel not just sexy when I'm with her, but beautiful.
I dozed off, dreaming about her and what she would look like underneath her clothes. I woke up insanely wet but in the best mood ever. Classes started at 9:30 for me and I didn't have to be at the bar until 8:00 pm.
This was gonna be a long day.
It was about 10 minutes after closing time. Everybody had finally left and I was cleaning up. I was taunted by the males. Once, when I was bringing a round to a table, one of them stood up and wrapped his arm around my waist. I put the drinks down on the table and he cupped my breasts, saying, "See boys. This is how they should
look." They left and I went back behind the bar, mortified. I wish I was allowed to slap the customers.
I waited, leaning on the counter. I had decided to wear a black lace thong. I doubt you could even tell it was lace, seeing that it barely covered anything. I had a matching black bra that covered my nipples and just about nothing else. Even then, they poked through. I had bought it on one excursions when I thought it would be useful. Tonight, it finally was.
My stiletto heels killed my feet. I was doubting she would show up. Finally, I sat down on a bar stool on the opposite side. I had made myself a martini when I heard the front door open. I looked and saw the beauty that she is. Her clothes were tight, but barely there. It was a turn on for me. She had on a pair of tight black shorts and a red crop top that hugged her chest in the right ways. Her cleavage line made me crazy, and her long legs dazzled me. Finally, Leila took a seat next to me and the other martinis I had set out.
I forced myself to remember what we were doing: foreplay. It seemed like it would be more like roleplay from the start, but I didn't mind.
"Why, hello there." She said as she slid next to me. Quickly, she grabbed a drink a took a sip. "You're looking exquisite."
I nodded nervously. "So are you."
She laughed and placed her palm on my thigh. "Andrea, please. Drink. It will make you less nervous." I nodded and took a large gulp of my drink. She grinned. "Good girl. Now, why don't you put on some music so we can dance?"
I nodded and got up, almost robotically. I turned on the music - it was R&B. Slow and sensual. She stood up and walked over to me, taking my hand and guiding me to the dance floor. She stood behind me and began turning her hips, grinding on me. It felt good, almost right even. I began to move with her hips, swaying back and forth, always together. Soon, I built up the courage and turned around to face her. Smirking, I put my left leg between hers and my right next to one. I put my arms around her neck and bit my lip. Winking, I began to sway to the music, softly rubbing my crotch onto hers.She ran her fingers through my hair.The beat got a bit faster, so we sped up.
It was the hottest feeling I could ever have. It felt like I wasn't close enough to her. She placed her hands on the small fabric that covered my ass and groped me. It was a groping like I had never had. Soon, her hands were under my skirt and on my ass. My lips were all over her neck and chest. I begged her fingers to reach my pussy; I even grabbed her hand and put it there. All she did was trace her fingers around it, making my heart speed up and my juices leak down my leg.
Finally, she got down on her knees and raised my skirt. "I can't take it anymore." She kissed a trail up my leg, licking up up juices. She made it to my clitoris and circled her tongue around it, making me moan. I remembered my goal- to tease. I stepped back from her tongue, but she pulled me back towards her. Her tongue dived into my hole and I enjoy it for a minute. Soon, I stepped back again, not allowing her to come back for more. I pulled my skirt down and smirked.
"Go lay on the counter." I commanded her. She did what she was told. I grabbed some salt and tequila from the cabinet and place them next her head. "Take off your shirt." I said. She abided, revealing a pair of large breasts (probably the size of mine) that were held by a red balcony bra. I could tell that there was no padding or push up. I began to pour the tequila in a trail from her belly button, up her stomach, on both breasts, and to her lips. I added salt to it and placed a lemon in her mouth.
"You ready?" I asked. Not waiting for an answer, I traced my tongue up her stomach, swirling it and enjoying the sting of the drink. When I got to her breasts, I spent longer than necessary kissing them and and lapping up the tequila. For a moment, I slipped my tongue into her bra and touched her nipple, causing her to release a "yip" sound. Smirking, I continued to kiss up her neck and to her lips. I took out the lemon with my mouth and tossed it away, allowing my lips to finally meet hers. The sourness from the lemon coalesced with the sourness from the tequila and made a delicious combo. Our tongues reached to the back of each others throats as her hands roamed up my shirt. She was excited by the little strap covering my breasts. I was nearly to the point of going down on her when she stood up.
"Let's go." She said forcefully. She opened the front door. I walked out cautiously. It was another breezy night and the cold bit me. She grabbed my hand and we walked. We walked and talked. That's it. I was shocked.
After a couple minutes, we made it to a park bench. Very few cars had passed us on our way over. She sat down and patted her lap. I didn't understand what she was doing; I also didn't understand why she wasn't taking us to one of our houses. Then her hands were up my shirt. 'What are you..." I started, shocked. She shushed me with her lips on mine. We sat like that, kissing passionately. Her hands had not made it to my breasts yet; I think she was testing my boundaries, seeing that we were in public. After a few minutes of this, we heard a car slow down and yelling. We turned to see a couple of guys driving home with one passed out in the passengers seat.
They kept yelling. "Come on!" "Keep kissing!" "Feel her up or something!" I wanted to run away. Leila didn't. Instead, she kissed me again, this time fiercer. The guys cheered as we pulled back, our tongues still dancing. Her hands squeezed my breasts, causing me to moan. It seemed like forever until the boys drove away.
She pulled back and took her hands out from under my shirt. "I'm sorry. Was that too taboo?" She seemed genuinely concerned.
I replied with a peck on the lips. "Nope. That was amazing."
She smirked. "Well then. Let's head to the bar."
We made our way back and cleaned up. I could swear that that would be the end of our night, but no, that wasn't. She pulled the car around while I locked up. When I entered, I was shocked to see that she was stark naked. She was beautiful, with a rose tattooed on her hip.
"I believe, since I had my way with you on the park bench, you can have your way with me now."
I grinned. "That's fine with me. But let me do one thing first and, please, keep your headlights on."
This was the most confidence I'd ever had. In front of the car, with the headlights on, I began to strip of my clothes. I could see her face because of the blaring lights; I was hoping that it would be a good reaction. All that I left on was my incredibly tiny thong, the matching bra, and my heels. I walked back the car to see her not looking at all; in fact, her eyes were closed and she had three fingers in her pussy. I slapped at her hand and she opened her eyes, pulling them out. "Would you like to finish?"
"I believe it can wait until we get to my home." She pouted, but put the car in drive. We made great time getting to my building, and took the stairs up to my second floor room. She smacked my bottom as we walked up. I giggled and sped up, trying to beat her while making sure I did not fall.
Unlocking my door, I let her in. I hadn't noticed that she brought a bag. "What's that?" I asked. Her eyes glittered and she place multiple sex toys on the table. Strap-ons, anal beads, double-sided dildos, vibrators, and even things I didn't recognize. I picked up a bottle and she smiled. "Flavored lube." She replied. I smiled as she asked. "What would you like to use?"
"Surprise me." I said, walking towards my bedroom door. While she was in the kitchen, I quickly lit two vanilla candles and laid on the queen sized bed. My legs were crossed when she entered and shut the door. The lights were dimmed as she showed me the double-sided dildo. I grinned and spread my legs. She placed one of its head at the entrance to my vagina and the other to hers. We both started slowly, the dildo being large and
wide. We went down an inch, then up an inch. Just like that for a few minutes, trying to get used to the feeling. She rubbed circles on my clit and I did the same for her. Soon, we stopped that and just enjoyed the dildo.
Soon, we were scissoring. It was hard an fast. The dildo was at least 7 inches. Our pussies hit each other again and again. Our firm asses bounced each impact.
I wasn't sure how long it took, I just knew that I came first. The dildo was at it's deepest point and her vagina continued to hit mine. Juices sprayed everywhere as I moaned. Soon after, Leila came. She had taken it out of her vagina, but quickly put it back in. She pushed it in to its deepest part, still coming and moaning. Our clitoris' were touching. Then, tired from all of this, we still managed to grind into each other, the dildos working well in our advantage. She came again, but I left it at that.
We made our way under the covers and snuggled. We made out a little bit, but nothing too rough. It was tender and sweet, just how a kiss should be. She began to grope my chest, but I allowed her. If she had not told me she was dominant, I would have guessed it. I fell asleep with her hands cupped around my breasts, feeling my nipples. It was amazing.
She was the best lover I ever had. She stayed with me for the next week, sometimes visiting me at work. Other times she came after. We showered together, leaving me only 5 minutes to wash my hair correctly because we were... preoccupied
with each other. We tried each on of her sex toys and managed to make love in other places. Once we went for a full session in the bar, on the ground because we couldn't take it any longer. We snuck out to the pool down to street and made sweet love there. We had some playful times in her car when she would drop me off at work.
Then, one day, she told me her girlfriend wanted to get back together with her. She loved her and even introduced me to her. She suggested that we have a 3 way, and 'Monica' was all for it. She even had begun to strip there. But I declined. Not because her breasts weren't nearly the size of Leila's or because Monica was an Italian beauty. I was jealous that she could keep her all to herself. She was able to live with her and spend her days making her feel special.
Leila called a couple times those first couple of years after. She said we should meet up, but I never wanted to. Finally, she got the hint and stopped calling. I was still a heartbroken soul.
Now, I'm with a lovely lady named Sarah. We bonded on a lesbian dating site. We didn't sleep together until we were dating for 6 months. A week later, she proposed. The love we make is sweet and sensual, but never as good as the memory of Leila.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/lesbian/the-memory-of-leila.aspx">The Memory of Leila</a>