My One Lesbian Hookup

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This isn’t the sexiest story in the world, but it’s a true one.

My name is Emily, and I’m mostly straight. I’ve slept with seven men in my life, and only one woman. This is the story of the woman.

I was 22 years old, visiting my friend Carla at college. I’m normally a quiet girl, but I was eager for a taste of the “college experience” that I never really got to have. All I wanted was to drink, party, and hook up, like college kids do on TV.

So we were already half-drunk when we reached the house party.

Nobody even know whose house it was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hold a conversation. People danced in every room and hallway, packed so tight we could barely squeeze through. Within minutes, I was sweating.

We found drinks in the kitchen, and I started dancing with Carla and her friends. We all wore tight, sparkly dresses and heels. The party was too crowded for real dancing, so we mostly screamed song lyrics together. I don’t remember if any guys approached me, but I didn’t dance with anyone else.

I left the group to get a second drink, or maybe a third. I was really getting drunk at this point. When I came back, I couldn’t find Carla or her friends anymore.

In their place, I found a sex goddess.

She was a short, thick woman with a wide butt and belly. I remember thinking she was Hispanic – she was dark-skinned, with short black hair. She gyrated in place with a red tube top, and her enormous breasts practically spilled out.

My mouth fell open.

I’m straight. I don’t usually like girls.

But I do have a thing about breasts. Mine are okay, but they’re small. I’m obsessed with big ones – the kind that bounce and jiggle. I fantasize about squeezing them… sucking them. I dream about young mothers with huge, milk-filled tits.

I’ve had this fixation since I was very young, I think. Long before I discovered boys, I stared at women’s breasts.

The goddess caught me staring, and she laughed. All of a sudden she was in front of me, friendly and smiling. We pretended to flirt: she put her hands on my waist with exaggerated, fake-seductive movements.

I laughed, too, playing along. I raised my drink in the air, and we pretended to grind together.

We were both drunk. We kept dancing together, even after we stopped laughing.

I don’t remember if she had friends at the party – I never saw any. I don’t remember if I found Carla again, either. But I vividly remember dancing to the song “Get Low” with a red cup in my hand. The goddess held my hips as she moved to the music. She turned around and stuck her butt out towards me, and I pushed my crotch against her soft flesh.

I would never feel comfortable dancing with a guy like that. But we were still “pretending to flirt”… or pretending to pretend.

As time passed, we got sloppier together. She grabbed my butt with two hands, giggling. I slid my hand up her side, brushing my thumb against her breast. When I finished my drink, I simply dropped my plastic cup onto the floor.

The music was so loud, she needed to scream into my ear to speak to me. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Emily!” I shouted.

She told ataşehir escort me her name. It sounded exotic, and I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly.

“You’re really sexy!” I shouted at her.

“Thank you!” She laughed. “So are you!”

Normally I’d never say these things, but I was drunk and horny. She held my waist as we talked, and it felt really good.

“You have amazing tits!” I cried.


I leaned in and yelled directly in her ear. “Your tits!” I screamed. “They’re amazing!”

She laughed again and pretended to squeeze her breasts together.

We kept dancing, getting bolder. I squeezed her body and ran my hand along her bare thigh. She relaxed into me, enjoying the touch.

Then she leaned in close, wrapping both arms around me…

And suddenly, I felt her lips brushing my neck.

When I masturbate, I still think about this moment sometimes.

My whole body pulsed with arousal. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I just kept holding her. Then I felt her lips again, kissing the skin near my ear.

She pulled her head back and looked at me, as if asking for permission. She had dark eyes and bright red lipstick. Our noses were practically touching. I kissed her.

This wasn’t my first time kissing a girl. I had messed around with a friend in high school a little, but it was nothing serious.

This was a serious kiss. It was a drunk, sloppy kiss. Our tongues met instantly, wet and aggressive. Her lips felt full and soft, and she kissed me hungrily. She tasted like beer.

As good as it felt, I soon pulled away. I was embarrassed about kissing in public. Briefly, the goddess leaned forward and kissed me again.

She stood on her toes, pressing her lips against my ear. “Want to go somewhere?”

Outside, it was a cold night.

She led me away from the party, down a quiet cobblestone path. Our heels clicked, echoing, as we walked. Soon, we were shivering.

We didn’t walk far. She unlocked the entrance to a small, concrete dormitory. Inside the doorway, we stood beneath a noisy heater and warmed ourselves, giggling.

Her bedroom was dim, and she didn’t turn the lights on. There was a poster for the movie Clueless on the wall. I saw two beds, but her roommate wasn’t home.

The door had barely closed when we started kissing again.

We embraced in the center of the room. Her hands reached down my back, lingering on my butt. I held her sides, not quite daring to touch her breasts yet.

We sat on the bed together. A moment later, we were lying down.

My sex goddess was sweaty. In the confines of her room, I could smell her body odor – a strong, earthy scent.

We lay kissing on the bed, exploring each other’s bodies with our hands. She breathed hard, mouth straining for me. Already, she was running her hand up my thigh.

At some point, I finally found the courage to touch her breasts. I caressed them lightly with my palms, looking for her nipples with my thumbs. Then, as we continued kissing, I slipped one hand beneath her tube top.

Without hesitation, she sat up and peeled the top off. Underneath, she wore an uncomfortable-looking strapless bra; it was avcılar escort laced up like a corset in back. She untied herself, watching me. Then her breasts came free.

I froze, staring. The goddess smiled at my reaction.

She had heavy, wide breasts like a fertility idol. Large areolas, with a few stray hairs… and long, dark nipples. As I stared, she circled them with her fingers.

“Do you like?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I breathed. “God, yes…”

She pulled me towards her and kissed me again, guiding my hand to her soft breast. Her skin felt warm.

For a while I lay on top of her, kissing her lips and lightly pinching her nipples. They stiffened beneath my fingers, and my thumbs teased them.

Then I kissed downward. Her skin tasted salty with sweat.

My kisses reached her breast, and her nipple brushed against my cheek. She arched her back.

“Can I…?” I asked.


Her nipple filled my mouth. I had never sucked a breast before – not for sex, anyway. My lips pulled instinctively at it, fingers squeezing the flesh. The goddess gave a warm sigh.

“That’s good…” she murmured.

Beneath me, I felt her thighs parting. Still sucking her nipple, I slipped my hand downward.

My fingers brushed her heavy skirt, then the skin of her thigh… and then, I felt her soft underwear. Waves of warmth and wetness seemed to radiate outwards. I stroked her, feeling the yielding flesh beneath the fabric.

She gave a ragged breath, waiting for my next move.

Eager, I slipped the panties aside. My palm touched her damp pubic hair. My lips sucked hard at her nipple, and my finger slid across the smooth, slippery flesh between her pussy lips.

I explored her briefly. I touched the small nub of her clit hood, and then the wet, hungry entrance to her vagina.

As my finger entered her, the goddess let out a small moan.

I immediately added a second finger and plunged into her deeply. I was aggressive: I’d never been with another girl before, but I knew what I liked from guys.

Her pussy felt different than mine – much wetter and looser than I ever got.

Meanwhile, the rest of my brain was still occupied by her breast. I circled her nipple with my tongue, holding the soft flesh with my free hand.

I alternated between finger-fucking her and touching her clit – gently at first, and then harder and steadier. Glancing up, I saw that her eyes were squeezed tightly closed. She was flushed and breathing hard.

Then she was grabbing at me, pulling me up towards her mouth. I released her breast and moved upwards, and we kissed again. Her hand pushed its way between my thighs.

I gasped, feeling the goddess’s hand beneath my dress. Roughly, she pulled my panties aside. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and her fingers probed my sensitive pussy.

Then she entered me suddenly, and I grunted aloud.

“Is this okay?” she whispered. Our mouths were still touching.


She added another finger, filling me up. I squeezed my eyes shut.

We lay together for a long time, fingering each other. We kissed a little bit, but mostly our lips and faces just touched.

My ataşehir escort bayan body was deeply aroused, and I loved the way she touched me. But… at this point in my life, I still had sexual issues. I was over-sensitive. I couldn’t cum with partners yet.

When she started touching my clit, I winced. “Sorry,” I said, “that hurts a little.”

“Oh – should I stop…?”

“No, no. Everything else feels good.”

I focused more on her pleasure. Luckily, the goddess’s clit worked perfectly: when I touched it, her whole body responded.

Her hips began pushing against my hand, and her breath was getting harder. As I rubbed her more steadily, she made soft whimpering sounds.

“Should I keep going?” I whispered.

She just nodded. Soon, she stopped fingering me altogether. She could only lay gasping, squeezing my thigh.

“Harder,” she grunted.

I was amazed: I was already rubbing her clit much harder than I could ever touch myself. But I pressed even more forcefully with my fingers, and she buried her face against my neck. Quiet, high-pitched sounds came from her throat.

And then, suddenly, her voice rose sharply in pitch. Her hands tightened on my body. Her hips seemed to convulse.

“I’m cumming,” she squeaked, as if it weren’t obvious.

I kept rubbing until her body relaxed again. Her skin seemed to blaze with heat. Then, gasping, she rolled onto her back and pressed one hand against her forehead.

“Mmph, that felt awesome…” The goddess turned towards me again, breasts spilling onto the bedsheets. Her dark eyes stared deeply into mine.

“It’s your turn to get off,” she said, smiling.

I blushed. “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need to cum. It all felt good.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “You sure?”


Looking back, I should have said yes. But as aroused as I felt, I was still embarrassed about my over-sensitivity. I was shocked at how easily she’d reached orgasm, since I had trouble cumming at all.

She went to the bathroom to pee. I lay in bed and straightened my dress. I hadn’t actually removed any clothing, I realized.

I noticed the scent of her pussy on my fingers. She smelled completely different than I did.

When she came back, I was already on my feet.

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

I glanced at the floor. “Yeah, I should probably go.” I explained that I was just visiting from out of town, and I needed to find my friend.

So we said goodbye.

We kissed one last time. The whole experience felt unreal to me, and I was reluctant to let go.

I have no idea how I found Carla’s dormitory again. When she arrived home at nearly dawn, she found me sitting in the hallway against her door, half-asleep with my head against the door frame.

Later, I told her I’d hooked up with a boy. She thinks I’m completely straight. Everyone does, even my boyfriend. They don’t know about the fetish stories I write, which always focus on women.

That night was more than ten years ago. I still think about it constantly. The goddess’s voice as she told me she was cumming… the salty taste of her nipples in my mouth… the smell of her sweaty armpits.

Her pussy left a distinctive, long-lasting scent on my fingers, and I spent the next few days sniffing it secretly. When it finally faded, I felt like I’d lost something important.

I never touched another woman again.

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