This is the third and final (perhaps?) installment of my same-sex exploration series.
Five days we had together, before our respective holiday breaks were over and we had to say goodbye. But we made the most of it. I was absolutely enthralled by her; by her smooth skin, her soft mouth, her alabaster breasts, her beautiful bottom, her luscious cunt. I could have happily drowned between her legs, imbibing the sweet fragrant nectar from her sex like a hungry hummingbird lapping at a honeysuckle flower.
One heady evening, as the sun sank over the ocean and the din of seagulls rang outside the window, we had interlocked our open legs and she pressed her soft, damp pussy to mine. I still remember the glorious sensation of her nether lips kissing my own damp petals, the wet sounds of our flesh moving together rich and succulent. She scissored against me slowly, grasping my thigh, while I gripped her hip, her buttock, her breasts. Each time her clit rubbed mine, the two of us moaned, and it wasn’t long before we were grinding against each other with violent abandon, our open, desperate cunts dripping and salivating as we pulsed and twitched and rode each other to loud and vocal orgasms.
The following day, we had been coaxed out of the hotel room by a fierce need for food and, after a lazy lunch of fish and chips on the beach, we’d wandered hand in hand along the high street. I was very self-conscious when she first reached for my hand. I felt conspicuous, and worried that we would attract disapproving stares. I soon realised, however, that there were plenty of same-sex couples wandering openly and proudly along the street, and that the only person with any hang-up was me. I relaxed at once, enjoying the frisson I felt from our interlaced fingers and playful, conspiratorial smiles.
Down a side-street off the main drag, we found a sex shop, and I dragged her inside, surprised by my sudden and uncharacteristic bravado. We giggled as we wandered amongst the sexy underwear, leather crops, and dildos that ranged from cute and sparkly to intimidating and eye-watering.
I was browsing through their range of flavoured lubes when she sidled up beside me with what looked like a jock-strap. When she held it against her hips and wriggled, I realised that it was a strap-on harness. I felt the heat rising in me immediately, as I imagined her thrusting into me, her beautiful breasts bouncing with every exquisite motion. She must have seen the blush in my cheeks, or the fire in my eyes, because she smiled wickedly, grasped my hand and dragged me over to the display of dildos. She stood behind me, her body pressed against me, and murmured in my ear, “Choose the weapon, you naughty, dirty girl.”
By the time we made our way back to the hotel with our bag of toys, I was so wet with anticipation that I had soaked right through the crotch of my knickers. I loved the slippery sensation I got with each step, and climbing the steps up to the inside foyer nearly made me cry out, as the creamy slick rubbed against my throbbing clit.
Back in the room, we had barely shut the door behind us before we were in each other’s arms, passionately kissing and pulling off our clothes, consumed with urgent lust. I unbuttoned her denim shorts with fevered fingers, and pulled them and her tiny thong down to her ankles, hungrily kissing her breasts and her mound as I went. I could smell the aroma of her arousal rising in my nostrils: she was as wet as I was, and I let my tongue tease her slippery folds before I stood upright again and returned to her mouth.
After several long, sensual kisses, she reached into the bag and drew out the harness and dildo. I unpackaged the dildo while she made sense of the harness, and we fell about in giggles a couple of times as the two of us assembled our toy. But once she was fully equipped, gripped her sparkly pink “cock” and drawled, “Now I’m going to fuck you just like you’ve been picturing all afternoon,” we both stopped giggling and I sank to my knees before her. I don’t really know why, but I wanted to suck her dick. I knew, of course, that it was just a silicone toy, but there was something so sensual, so beautifully submissive, in the action of taking it into my mouth.
She seemed to get the same thrill, as she caressed my hair, drew me in closer, and whispered, “Yes, my darling. Suck it. Make it good and wet.”
I laved it up and down with my tongue, sank my mouth onto it again and again as she stood there in a powerfully assertive pose, her back straight, her faux-phallus jutting out proudly from her groin. When her shaft was glistening wet with my spit, she lifted me to my feet and led us both to the bed. I lay on my back, my legs open wide. I caught site of myself in the ceiling mirror. My pussy lips were flushed almost red. I looked so wanton lying there, spread, while she knelt before me and rubbed the dildo up and down my slit. She teased the head of her silicone cock between my labia, then up over my clit. The engorged nub was pounding by now, almost painfully. Up and down, she slid, not yet entering me but just toying with me, building my anticipation, making me sopping wet and wriggling with the hunger.
“Please,” I begged, writhing and twisting desperately. “Oh please, please now.”
With a gentle smile, she sank into me slowly, and the slight curve at the top of the dildo immediately grazed my g-spot. I shrieked, and she thrust again, penetrating me with leisurely, deep motions that had me groaning, panting and grabbing handfuls of bedding in my shaking grip.
I watched her fucking me. She was gloriously beautiful. She had one hand on her hip, the other hand on my thigh, and the sheen of perspiration on her body made her glisten like a goddess. She angled into me with such perfect precision that I felt like I was losing my rational mind and getting lost in an ecstatic world of swirling colours, fireworks and ego-less abandon. There was nothing else in existence but the sensation, the sounds, the smells of our sex. When she reached her hand to cup my mound, slid her thumb against my clitoral hood and began stoking my pearl slowly but firmly in time with her languorous thrusts, my whole cunt seemed to explode in a shimmering cornucopia of heat and liquid, and I came harder than I had ever cum before, or have ever cum since.
“Yes, darling,” I heard her praise me, as she reared back on her haunches, allowing my fluids to burst forth. When the contractions eased and my pussy had stopped erupting, she slid the cock back inside me and fucked me harder this time. She groaned in unison with my orgasmic wails.
“Oh, god, the harness is hitting my clit,” she moaned, as she fucked me hard and fast. “It feels so fucking good.”
In a haze of sensation and iridescent bliss, I could hear myself chanting “Yes” and “oh god!” and “fuck me” over and over, like some filthy mantra. We fucked, and came, and fucked and came for hours. Her wondrous cock never tired. I don’t know at what point we collapsed in each other’s arms, but I remember waking up in the early hours to find her head nuzzled in my neck, and I lay there for ages, stroking her hair and sprinkling gentle kisses on her forehead. I think I fell in love with her in those quiet moments, and when she came to and blinked up at me with her sleepy eyes, I cupped her chin and drew her in for a soft and reverent kiss.
I took my turn wielding the cock later that day, and she had me penetrate her from behind whilst slapping her bottom. I can still remember the vivid image of her ass bouncing, deliciously red and inviting, while the pink dildo thrust between her puffy pussy lips and emerged glistening with her rich liqueur.
Whenever I have trouble reaching a climax, but don’t want my husband to feel hurt that he hasn’t made me cum, I call on the image of Ashley, and remember all the pleasures I shared with her. Ashley, my beautiful beach babe and the most exquisite lover I ever had. I often think of her, and wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t had to leave Brighton and return to Manchester for my wedding. I suppose I should be thankful that I got to experience such incredible sexual delights before settling down with Ted and our lovely, but sadly unexciting sex-life. But I miss her. I still miss her terribly.
Oh and in case you were wondering, the harness went home with Ash, but the dildo came home with me….