[Lesbians] 3rd in the series of "First Time with Another Girl"

[atomic_monkey]

“Elizabeth’s Story: My first Girlfriend”



The first time I had sex with another girl? It was with a girl I dated my freshman year of college.

I had realized I was into girls back in high school. I hung out with a couple of girls and even kissed one, but homosexuality was not accepted in my school, so I felt uncomfortable with the whole thing and didn’t have many opportunities to explore my feelings.

When I got to college I was excited to find a more tolerant environment and large group of other girls who were lesbian or bi. I joined some clubs for gays and lesbians to meet more people like me. That’s where I met Amy.

We hit it off right away. She asked me if I wanted to hang out sometime and I said yes of course. The first time we got together we went to a party with a group of people. We ended up kissing good night. A few days later Amy any I hung out again, just the two of us. We grabbed lunch and spent the day watching TV. More kissing. Then we started hanging out all the time, studying together, going to the cafeteria together, and stuff like that. Before I knew it she was my girlfriend. It was the first relationship I ever had.

One day, after we had been together a few weeks, we were sitting around eating ice cream and she said, “My roommate is going home this weekend. You should come over Friday and spend the night.” I wasn’t sure what she was suggesting but said okay. She said, “She rarely goes home, and your roommate’s always around, so we should take advantage of this rare opportunity to have some private time.”

I rolled over what she said in my head and very gradually began to realize that she was proposing having sex. It caught me off guard. During those first few weeks we kissed a lot, but that was all. This may sounds strange, but it had never crossed my mind that we’d be having sex. I realize it should have. All couples have eventually have sex. Maybe not the first week or the first month, but sooner or later happens. That’s an important, natural part of any healthy adult relationship. But with my naïve youth and lack of experience, I didn’t think that far in advance.

My silence and the look on my face must have let her know that I was taken off guard. She correctly guessed that I never had sex before. She assured me that it would be a lot of fun. I told her I was looking forward to it. That was true—I was nervous, but excited at the same time.

Most people I’ve talked to, straight and gay, told me that the first time they had sex it was spontaneous, so I supposed my first time was somewhat unusual in that it was planned in advance. It was very matter of fact: this Friday night Amy and I will have sex. For someone as innocent as me, that was kind of shocking.

In the days leading up to our big night I thought about it a lot. I saw Amy almost every day. I’d look at her and think: I’m going to have sex with you. I’m going to know what you look like naked. And you’ll know what I look like naked. We’re going to touch the most private, most sensitive, most intimate parts of each other’s bodies. I’m going to have an orgasm in front of you. And I’ll know what your face looks like when you have an orgasm.

Those ideas were so hard to comprehend, but they excited me. I wasn’t even quite sure what it meant for two girls to have sex. Would we just finger each other or would there be oral sex? I tried to picture us going down on each other, but couldn’t.

Friday finally came. I struggled to concentrate in class. The clock seemed to be moving so slow. I took extra care I getting ready to meet her. I had the longest shower of my life and primped twice as long as I normally do. I wanted to be as physically desirable as possible. We met up for a late diner and then went to a party. I wasn’t able to enjoy the party because all I could think about was what was going to happen when we went home. It seemed to drag on and on. Finally, after some prodding, Amy agreed to leave. First she had to say goodbye to a few people. It was torture waiting for her to get through that.

I still remember everything about that night, even our walk back to her dorm. We held hands and talked and laughed and talked some more. We never had problems making conversation. We had great chemistry. She was my best friend. I adored her so much.

Once we got into her dorm room and shut the door I thought: what now? Do we sit around making small talk for a while first? Or do we just get into the bed and start doing it? Do I take my clothes off or does she take them off? Shouldn’t she be putting on some music—I thought that everyone listened to music while having sex?

I had no idea how these things worked and was more than happy to let her take the lead.

She fooled around with something in her closet for a minute or two, then kicked her shoes off. I sat down on her bed and took my shoes off. She sat down next to me and asked if I was tired. I told her no. She said, “Good, neither am I.” I kissed her on the cheek.

She asked if I was nervous. I said, “Yeah, a bit. But I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

She laughed and said, “Really?”

I said, “Yeah.” I looked her in the eyes and said, “Just in case I haven’t made this perfectly clear: Amy, I want to have sex with you.” Saying those words to her were thrilling. I have never in my life told a person point blank that I wanted to have sex with them. It was like I was opening up to her, exposing myself, making myself vulnerable, like getting naked in front of somebody. She laughed.

She asked, “Are you horny right now?” I told her that I was very horny. She said, “Well, we can sit around talking about sex or we can actually do it.” I told that I was ready to start.

We began kissing. While her tongue—her incredibly warm, wet tongue—was in my mouth it occurred to me that in a little while it might be in my pussy. I still wasn’t sure if there would be oral sex or just fingering, but I was hopeful. I was turned on by the idea of oral sex—the intimacy of it as well as the physical pleasure. It never occurred to me come right out and ask her what she expected to happen that night—and even if it had crossed my mind I would have been too shy to actually ask her.

We kissed for a while, both of us sitting on her bed, me with my back against the well. After about five minutes she pulled up my shirt. She didn’t take it off, just pulled it up to my neck. She unclasped my bra (it hooked in the front) and let it fall away. She then moved down and started sucking and licking my breasts. I loved watching her do that. She had her hair in a ponytail. I undid it and ran my fingers through her hair and she continued to suck on my breasts. My nipples are extremely sensitive, so sometimes her sucking on them was too intense. I’d giggle and pull her head away. She’d tease me by going right back to tickling my nipples.

After a few minutes I said, “Let me do you.” She sat up, her back against the well. I pulled up her shirt, like she did mine, not taking it off, but just pushing it up around her neck, and unclasped her bra, which also hooked in the front. Her bra fell away and I thought she had the most beautiful breasts. They actually made me feel self-conscious because I worried that mine weren’t as nice. I looked at her breasts and got mentally ready to suck on them. I thought here I go, my first sex act. I know that sounds corny. To most people sucking on breasts is no big deal—it’s just “first base”. But it was a big deal to me.

I licked around her nipples, making circles with my tongue. I nibbled on the flesh of her breasts. Then I put one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked on it. After a while I switched to the other nipple. The whole time I was using my hands as well, kneading her breasts. I was being pretty sloppy with my mouth, so her breasts were really wet with my spit. I looked up and asked her if I was doing it right. She smiled and assured me that I was doing a great job.

We eventually went back to kissing, our shirts falling back down covering our breasts. There was a knock at her door. We stopped and looked at each other, holding our breath. The person knocked again, then walked away. Amy went over to make sure the door was locked. When she came back she said, “lay down.” I moved from my sitting position and laid on my side. She laid on her side next to me. We went right back to kissing.

About twenty seconds into this latest round of kissing she reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. That really, really excited me. She slid her hand into my pants and touched my pussy. It felt good, but my jeans, even unbuttoned, were kind of constricting. She really couldn’t do much with her hand. She tugged at my jeans. I pulled them and my underwear down. I didn’t take them totally off—I just pushed them down around my ankles. I then spread my legs so that she could put her hand back on my pussy.

Prior to this I had masturbated before. I didn’t do it very often, maybe once a month, but I did it. So I knew what it felt like to be touched on the pussy. At least I thought I knew. I didn’t realize that, although touching yourself feels great, having another person touch you feels a million times better. It’s so much more intense. I was thinking wow, this is even better than when I do it. I was also much wetter than I had ever been from masturbating.

She’d rub my clit for a while, then finger my hole for a while, switching back and forth ever couple minutes. I was concentrating on the feeling of her hand on my pussy. We stopped kissing and I laid back with my eyes shut.

She stopped touching me so that she could grab my hand and pull it to her crotch. That made me feel guilty. I was being selfish and hadn’t thought about touching her. I unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. She pulled them and her underwear down around her ankles, just like I had done with mine. I reached over and rubbed her pussy.

She resumed touching mine, so we were fingering each other at the same time. We were still lying side by side, but we were no longer kissing. Our faces were only an inch apart, but we were just staring into each other’s eyes. I love kissing, but it is extremely intimate (and hot) to be simply staring into someone’s eyes as you’re fingering each other, so I didn’t complain that the kissing had stopped. Plus, it was hard to breathe when I was that turned on—I was practically panting from her fingering me.

Really good sex stimulates all five of your senses, not just the obvious one of touch. With Amy I got that complete sensory pleasure: I was enjoying the feel of her hand on my pussy, the sight of her eyes staring into mine, the taste of her warm breath in my mouth (we weren’t kissing, but our mouths were very close), the sound of her giggling and panting, and the smell of her skin. I was in heaven.

But to be honest the scene wasn’t how I imagined it would be at all. I assumed that sex meant we’d be totally naked, lying under the sheets, constantly kissing, with music in the background. But none of those things were going on. We were laying on top of the sheets, practically totally clothed (our jeans were just pulled down), not kissing (just staring into each other’s eyes), in total silence (except for the sound of our giggles and breathing). That’s not a complaint—just an observation. It illustrates that I had overly romanticized ideas of sex. Actually, the simplicity of our situation—two girls with their hands in each other’s pants, simply fingering each other—is pretty hot. We were concentrating on getting each other off, nothing more.

Looking into her eyes I said, “This feels so good.” She smiled.

I was thinking about how much I liked her, about her being my best friend. Still looking into her eyes I said, “I could fall in love with you.”

She laughed hard, real hard, and said, “Tell me that when we’re not having sex.” I laughed.

I had been mostly rubbing her clit, because that’s what I like to be done to me, but she grabbed my hand and moved it so that I’d finger her hole. That was her way of telling me that’s what gets her off. I didn’t mind. I wanted her to teach me.

The harder I’d finger her, the greater the look of ecstasy on her face, so I started pounding away with my fingers. I said, “Amy, you’re so hot.”

She shut her eyes and opened her mouth wide. Her hand was still on me, but she slowed down rubbing me, clearly not able to concentrate on pleasuring me. I asked, “Are you gonna cum?” She nodded yes because she couldn’t speak. I sped up my fingering. She was super wet so it made a loud sloshing noise. She threw her head back, rolled from her side onto her back, and spread her legs super wide. I stayed with her, rolling partly on top of her, and continuing to finger her. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me tight. She was moaning very loud, “Oh God, oh God…” I kept pumping her with my fingers. I said, “Amy, I want to make you cum.”

She said, “Keep going, keep going.” I did. My hand was getting kind of tired, but there was no way I’d slow down. She was so close that only the most cold-hearted person on earth would have let up at that point. Finally, she let out a screamed, arched her back, and started kicking her legs over and over again, like she was riding a bike. That lasted about a minute, with each scream, each kick getting slightly less intense than the last. Eventually she collapsed in a pile of sweat. I had kept fingering the entire time, but now she grabbed my hand so that I’d stop. I made Amy cum—I felt serious satisfaction.

She looked me in the eyes again and said, “Thank you.” I told her that I enjoyed it almost as much as she did. She said, “Ok, now I’ll make you cum.” I wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but I wasn’t about to object. She sat up and started peeling off all of her cloths, so I did the same. Finally, we were totally naked, just like I had imagined.

She told me to lay back on her bed, then she laid down between my legs. She was going to go down on me. I was so excited.

I closed my eyes and waited. She squirmed around a bit to get into a better position, then I finally felt her touch my pussy. Only it was her hands, not her tongue. She was pulling my pussy lips apart so that her tongue would have a clear shot at my clit. If I had I been more experienced I would have figured that out faster.

Once her tongue made contact with my clit my back immediately and involuntarily arched. I described her finger on my clit as being a million times better than my own finger on my clit. Well, her tongue on my clit was a trillion-trillion times better than my own finger on my clit. I had always assumed that sex was only as good as masturbation. Now I knew that masturbation, while fun, isn’t even in the same league. Now I understood why society is obsessed with sex.

Her licking my pussy was almost too intense. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. I was squirming around uncontrollably. I’m surprised she was able to hold on. She slid a single finger in me and started pumping my hole as she licked my clit. She tried to slide a second finger in there, but I was too tight and it hurt. I had to tell her to just use one.

She continued working me with her tongue and finger. I started grinding my pussy on her face. After a few minutes I came. At this point I was not surprised to learn that cumming with another person is a trillion-trillion times better than cumming from masturbating.

When we finished we laid awake, snuggling and talking. She asked me what I thought of sex, what was my favorite part, if it was something I’d want to do again. The fact that I told her I could fall in love with her didn’t come up, thankfully. When we woke up the following morning we had sex again, then twice that afternoon, then that night, then the following morning. It was a sex marathon between two young lesbians.

Oh, and I got to go down on her the next day, which was amazing. It turned out that she came really easily, so I was able to give her tons of orgasms.

We ended up dating for only that semester. As with a lot of college relationships that start out like a burning sun, ours fizzled pretty quickly. I’m not even sure that I can pin point why. Being my first relationship I was pretty devastated at the time, but looking back it was no big deal. I feel no animosity towards her. And she’s still the greatest sexual partner I’ve ever had. In fact, she’s my “go to” fantasy when I masturbate.