My Pon Farr Weekend

It usually comes upon me quite suddenly. The need for sex with someone. I’m not talking about just being horny. I can deal with that with my fingers and toys. This is more, much more. The powerful need for physical intimacy with another woman.

It started last Thursday evening and all I could do was masturbate myself silly until I fell asleep. By Friday morning I had planned my weekend around it and struggled through work all day just waiting for the bar to open that evening. I dressed as openly sexually as I could. Short skirt, stockings, heals, my best lacy underwear and almost transparent blouse under my coat. The bar was one I knew and trusted to be frequented by lesbian and bisexual women looking for a good weekend. It’s at times like these I’m glad I live in London where such places can be found by those who know where to look.

My usual party tactic was employed. Find somewhere facing the door so I could see everyone who came in. Make direct eye contact with anyone who caught my attention and wait. Repeat as necessary and add as many come hither hints as possible just to remind her, I’m definitely interested. It would be so much easier to simply wander up to her and ask her if she wants sex, but that’s never been me and probably never will be.

It took 20 minutes. She came over with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Not my wine preference but hey. Brief introductions. She was a few years younger than me, which made a change from my normal type. Thinner, bigger tits, (hasn’t everybody ). Dressed similarly, to leave little doubt of her intentions. She was staring at my nipples, which were staring back at her expectantly.

There was little, small talk. We both knew why women go to that bar and the fact that she was also alone was proof enough of her reasons being the same as mine. After we had finished the bottle, we had said everything we needed to, and the age-old corny question was wheeled out. “Your place or mine?” We chose hers purely because it was closer.  They say cab drivers have seen everything.  Well ours probably did as I noticed the rear view mirror being adjusted several times.  As soon as we got in the back of the cab her hands were up my skirt and feeling for my knickers. I let her take the lead of course. It’s my way.

Fortunately, the wait was a bearable 6 minutes and then we were in her flat.  No more pretense of first date awkwardness.  Just two women in lust. Straight to the bedroom and fingers seeking that moist source of heat.  She pulled my blouse and bra off over my head without bothering to undo it and sucked a nipple into her mouth and chewed on it hard.  Yes, it hurt but I wanted it to. No subtlety here.  She had two fingers up me, knickers pulled to one side, and pumping hard.  The squishy sound of her fingers working me was filthy and just added to the blissful experience. I just wrapped arms around her and surrendered.  I came within a couple of minutes, gasping and grateful.  I have made love for hours and not felt so exhausted.

The immediate need over, we collapsed onto her bed and now I got to undress her.  Her tits were large, and firm and I enjoyed them with my mouth while unzipping her skirt and pulling down her knickers. Then I straddled her and went down on her smooth pussy.  I hoped she wouldn’t mind my trimmed bush which was now absolutely soaked from my orgasm. Funny what goes through your mind when you’re having oral sex with a stranger!  Clearly, she didn’t mind at all because I felt her lapping at my pussy as eagerly as I was hers.  I concentrated on her clit, strumming it with my tongue and she squirmed under me.  I added a finger inside her and rubbed until she gave one big thrust of her hips, and I tasted the cum running out of her.  By this time, I was close to a second orgasm myself and sat back on her face wriggling until it hit me.  I think I was a bit too forceful as she gagged a little when I came.

We rested, both well satisfied, and finally peeled off the remaining pieces of clothing we bypassed in our rush.  More wine, a little conversation and then it began again. Deep sensual kissing, hands moving all over and then both simultaneously finding each other again and more pussy fingering.  Slower and more gentle pleasing this time.  Talking to each other about what we liked.  She loved gentle g spot stimulation; I prefer external clitoral stimulation.  We learned.  We came several more times that night, then eventually fell asleep in the early hours.

We woke up late.  It was raining and staying in bed seemed a great option, so we did.  Then she sat up and started humping my thigh while rubbing her clit.  I took over on her clit while she fingered me and continued humping.  She shifted slightly and then we were tribbing.  It had been several years since I’d had that pleasure, and it was as amazing as I remembered.  I’ve always found rubbing pussies together so erotic.  All those sounds of slippery wetness as you slide together.  The only downside for me was that she didn’t cum, but I was happy to finish her off with my fingers again.

Eventually we were hungry enough to shower and get up to go for some lunch.  I had at least taken a spare pair of knickers, but she had to lend me a shirt as my see through number from the night before was missing a couple of buttons after it’s forceful removal, and it was hardly decent for a lunchtime trip to the pub anyway.  We talked more about mundane things while we ate. I discovered she was a solicitor, so that’s me sorted for legal advice in the future! But as for the two of us, I don’t think there will be a future. At least not a romantic involvement. The sex was wonderful.  Just what I needed to cure the madness of my Pon Farr.  It sounds strange but we are too alike to be a couple, both too independent.  But we exchanged numbers, and I would hope we may repeat the experience when the insatiable urge to mate strikes again.