An Early Experience.

She was a classmate, and I was already familiar with her intimate scent from my locker room escapades, and I had enjoyed more than one wank after watching her shower with the other girls. We were also friends, and she was a late joiner to our panty-flashing group. 

Meeting up at the weekend followed, and this led, inevitably to sleepovers. My bedroom being large and possessing a king-sized bed, could easily accommodate six girls, one, or even two sharing with me and the others on a pull-out sofa bed or on the floor.

Sara loved my room, and would share my large bed. Two small-statures girls in a humongous bed….lots of room for everyone.

Late night ghost stories….late night whispered conversations about ‘sex’…such as we had experienced (or imagined) led to damp panties for both of us. One night, we heard mum and dad having sex. It never bothered them who was in the house…if they were in the mood, they’d go for it, and that night they were louder than usual. Sara and I listened, with me supplying a running commentary. “He’s on top of her….just putting his cock in her. Listen…can you hear mum moaning as he fucks her?” 

I could sense Sara’s breathing…deep, tremulous, clearly aroused. I wondered how wet she was, and if she was as wet as me? 

‘What do you think it’s like? That moment when someone slips their hand into your panties?” I remember I’d giggled….partly to keep the mood light and to cover up any serious intent on my part…and there was serious intent. “Like this?” I replied with the perfect uplift to my voice so I could still call it a joke is she reacted badly. 

I touched her lower tummy and felt down until I found her waistband. My fingertip slipped under the material which was quite low down so I almost immediately came to her neatly trimmed pubes. There, I froze. What would be, would be.

The silence in the room seemed to take on a physical weight and was pregnant with desire. Finally, in the darkness she whispered, “Don’t stop.” So, further then. Over her mound and to the very top of her slit where, once again, Miss Brain suggested I should stop. 

She was lying on her side when I started, but now she slowly rolled onto her back and I felt her legs part. My signal to proceed. Her clit was easily found and was rock solid, but further down still was an ocean of wetness…I could even feel it on the back of my hand from the crotch of her panties. I started moving my hand to apply pressure to her clit and my finger found her entrance although, again, Miss Brain forbade going further. 

Meanwhile, Sara was breathing just as deeply but more rapidly. I snuggled up against her and felt the firmness of her left boob against my face with a hard, pert nipple straining to be released from her t shirt. Then I felt her hand over mine and for a second I thought she was going to remove my fingers but instead, I felt pressure from her…pressure that forced my middle finger past her opening, and inside her. Deep inside her. All the way inside her. 

Oh I was still new to this too but I loved feeling the inside of her…the ridges and wetness and the smooth pad of her g-spot. Thinking back, she must have been within a day or two, maybe three or four at the outside of her period, because I remember feeling her cervix and thinking that it was low down. 

“Kiss me?” Her turn now to add a slight upward inflection to her voice. A desire framed as a question, as a request. I lifted my face to hers and kissed her softly. She accepted my kiss and returned it, but soon pulled away and gently guided my head to her boob. “Kiss me here?” I asked her to lift her t shirt and was soon kissing that perfectly formed mound, rolling my tongue around her nipple and still with my finger buried deep inside her. I felt her hand on my head, pulling me tighter into her tit. 

And then the direction of pressure on my head changed, softly urging me lower…and lower…and lower still. Lower until my lips kissed the waistband of her panties. Oh, but she smelled amazing…like the wetness I smelled on her panties at school, but more…more concentrated. 

I remember trying to tug her panties down one-handed, and making a miserable failure of it so she had to help with us both doing a side each. Then I was kneeling between her spread legs and going in for the kill. The back of my right hand on the bed, my middle finger buried inside her and my tongue between her labia and circling her clit. I had little experience of doing this, so I just went with what I’d like a girl to do to me. Sara moaned as I sucked her clit and it wasn’t long before I felt her back arch and her legs grip me either side as I felt those wonderful internal contractions that herald orgasm. She came on my finger and her girl cum pooled in my palm. It didn’t remain there for long. 

When she had calmed down, we hugged and again that pregnant silence pervaded the room. Then, wordlessly, I felt her slip her hand into my panties and inside me. Soon, it was me on my back with Sara kissing me between my legs. I knew by then that I tended to squirt when I cum, and although it was nothing like as voluminous as it can be now, it was still measurable, even then. Sara licked me clumsily, truth be told, but I had her scent all over my face, and she was between my legs having her first ever taste of another girl. 

Of course I came. I felt myself squirt as well, although I tried not to which did dampen the orgasm somewhat. I wanted to grab her hair, to scream, to tell her to ‘lick my cunt, bitch.’ To tell her to ‘fuck me.’ But the even passed in silence apart from my orgasmic moans. 

We held each other afterwards and Sara asked, “Are we lesbians now?’ Then we both giggled. Of course we weren’t. We were just two teenagers experimenting. Neither of us knew what we’re ‘were’…well, I think I did, but this was just innocent fun. 

Before we went to sleep though we did get on top of one another, and pretend to ‘fuck’, so to speak. Rubbing our cunts together felt amazingly powerful, for some reason. We didn’t scissor, I’m not entirely sure we had even heard of that, but rubbing together, dry humping at first, then a thigh between each others thighs brought us off again. 

The next morning, it was as if it never happened. The only evidence of it being the stains on my sheet, and the scent of sex in my room.