At last it was over. Her thighs loosened their grip and fell apart. She lay on her back on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling, a stunned expression on her face. Her breasts rose and fell as she gasped for air.
“Kittykat?” I asked. “Are you all right?”
Her lips hardly moved. “That was…I never knew it could be like this. It was never like this before.”
“We’re just getting started,” I said. Putting my right middle finger in my mouth to moisten it, I slid it – my hand palm-upwards – into her vagina. Her tunnel, hot and moist, clutched at me. She gasped.
“Am I hurting you?” I asked. “Let me know if I hurt you.”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” I promised her. My finger began stroking back and forth, rubbing inside her. Suddenly I found what I was looking for as she moaned and went rigid. I began pressing my fingertip rhythmically on the front wall of her vagina, rubbing it back and forth, and she began thrashing, her hands clutching at the bedspread as she cried out and her hips bucked against my hand so hard I had difficulty keeping my finger inside her.
“What was that?” she whispered when she’d finally stopped coming. “What on earth was that?”
“Your G-spot,” I said. “Here it is.” I pushed in another finger, in a corkscrew motion, and rubbed the backs of my fingernails against it. She shuddered.
“Give me a chance to catch my breath,” she said. “You don’t want to orgasm me to death right at the start.”
“Not a chance of that,” I laughed. “I need to get off, too.” Taking my fingers out of her vagina, I took a pillow and nudged it under her hips so that they were raised off the bed. I then crawled up her body, my nipples rubbing on her belly, then knelt over her and lifted one of my legs over hers.
“Spread your legs,” I commanded. “As widely as possible. Then hold your vagina open with both hands.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, obediently spreading her labia apart with her fingers.
“You’ve heard of scissoring, right? Tribadism?” Spreading my own labia apart so that my clitoris bulged out from under its hood, I lowered my vulva to hers. “This is how it’s done.”
It had been a while since I’d scissored with another woman, and I’d forgotten the unique sensation of one’s own moist membranes kissing someone else’s, our labia meeting like mouths. Kittykat, who’d never felt it before, gasped, but I think I did too. Holding myself apart with my fingers, I began rubbing my clitoris against hers, first slowly, and then building a rhythm as I speeded up.
“Try not to move,” I said. “Let me do all the work.” With every thrust of my hips her wet pubic hair rubbed deliciously against my clit. “Let me…” my voice trailed off as I felt the first rush of my orgasm approaching, and then it struck. Crying out, I ground my vulva against hers and was hardly even aware when, with a small scream, she came too. Then my strength gave out and I fell forward on her, our sweat-slick bodies touching.
She held me to her bosom, both of us breathing hard, waiting for our racing hearts to slow down. Her fingers slipped through my hair. “That was incredible,” she said quietly, “I never knew sex could be like this. No wonder you go for women.”
“It’s not always that lesbian sex is better,” I said. “It’s like hetero sex, you have to work at it and practice, and sometimes it’s good, and sometimes it’s perfect.”
“Oh, right. It must be true what they say – that it’s who you do it with that matters most of all.”
“Also, look at this from the educational point of view,” I grinned. “From now on, you can include lesbian sex scenes in your writing, and knowing what you’re writing about.”
“Ha. I can see the dedication. ‘For Juliana, who showed me how to have sex with a woman.’ That should interest readers.”
“You make it sound as though I used a chalk and whiteboard.” I laughed. “You’ll stay here now, of course? There’s no need to waste money on your hotel.”
“I’ll stay,” she said, with a slight smile. “If you want me to, that is.”
“Shall I show you how much I want you to?” I asked.
“Show me,” she challenged, and I drew her to me again.
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