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  • Best Friends Ch. 02

Best Friends Ch. 02

The first time I had a penis inside me (other than in my mouth) was on my wedding night. The experience of being penetrated was marvelous. I knew the feeling of my finger inside me, the tampon applicator and, of course, boyfriends' fingers probing... but when Arthur's rigid penis opened me it made my ears buzz; I felt with each thrust that my eyeballs would pop out of my head. He shouted his orgasm and it ended much too soon, his body slumping on mine. His hardness shriveled inside me and, as I felt his semen oozing down the crack of my bottom, I vowed that I would get him hard again and again that night...which I did. Each time he fucked me longer. But there was no foreplay, nor was there cuddling afterward.

Not once during our marriage had Arthur's selfish attempts brought me to orgasm. I pretended, for his sake, to come when he did but found he didn't seem to care. After our first year of marriage he wanted sex less and less which, given the amount of enjoyment I took from it, was more of a blessing than a curse. I had become quite good at satisfying my own needs, at least physically. I indulged in wild fantasies, not to mention improved methods of masturbation, and it got to the point where I would watch men walking toward me, barely able to keep my eyes above their crotch. I was always too honorable, though, to seriously consider having an affair but, in my mind, many men had me.

I had heard about women having wild thoughts about their sons, a thought that was totally repulsive to me. But something happened within the last couple of years that caused me to assess the kind of person I have become. My son Lee had just celebrated his 18th birthday. He'd been working out with weights since the eighth grade, had developed a muscular body and had become a fine athlete. He'd never been modest around the house, often parading in nothing but his boxers, for which I scolded him. By that time his body had become beautiful and images began filling my mind, images of Lee completely naked...even with an erection (blushing). I tried to make the images go away, prayed about it...a lot, then felt like a hypocrite when I savored his naked cavorting in my mind.

One Saturday morning, about 10:30, (it was just before his graduation from high school) I was walking past his room. The door was open a crack and I heard what sounded like painful moans coming from the other side. I thought he might have hurt himself playing baseball and, being the compassionate mother, I raised my hand to push his door open but, through the crack, my eyes caught his reflection in the mirrored closet doors at the foot of his bed and I froze. He was lying on his back completely naked. In his left hand was a girly magazine, which he was holding up above his face. His right hand was wrapped around his substantial erection pumping it like he was blowing up a bicycle tire. The moans were of his pleasure. Having done similar things so many times in my life I understood. Just the same (I'm so embarrassed to tell you this) I was spellbound.

My fantasies hadn't prepared me for what I was seeing. Lee was much bigger than Arthur, and, from the length of time he masturbated without ejaculating he could, apparently, last much longer. I shouldn't have been watching, invading his privacy like that, but I was riveted. My years with his father led me to believe it would be over quickly. But he kept stroking and moaning, moaning and stroking for what seemed a full five minutes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and sucked in a spitty hiss; It was beautiful (blushing). His sperm gushed like a string of tiny pearls in a long arc, laying a line from his abdomen to his chest. Still pumping, he grunted and a smaller arc spurted on his stomach, pooling in his navel. His legs opened and closed as he kept flailing, his creamy seed flowing over the shiny purple head of his penis. His silent pumping turned to the slurpy sounds of his hand sliding through his semen. I wanted to...I wanted (oh, you already think I'm depraved) I wished I could go in and taste his sperm but quietly backed away from the door. It was terrible (blushing). It was wonderful.

I wanted to tell Amanda about what I had experienced but was afraid of exposing my fantasies, afraid of what she might have thought. She has a son, Corey, the same age as Lee; they played on the same high school baseball team. I wanted to tell her but feared losing her as a friend...and lover.

Our bridge group rotated houses, getting together every other week. I was the host the first time, when, after the game Amanda kissed and fondled me in the kitchen then took me upstairs and ravished me. It was all about her introducing me to the wonder of being made love to by a woman. The next time was two weeks later; the game was at her house. She called me that morning and asked me to wear something loose, "a skirt would be fine." The other six girls were wearing slacks. Amanda and me were the only ones wearing skirts, but, nobody seemed to notice. After the game I lingered until everyone else had left. During bridge, anticipating what Amanda and I would do after the game, I became so wet between my legs that I felt like I was going to slide off my chair.

We cleaned up together, just like at my house. I was washing the dishes when Amanda, from behind, slid her left arm under mine and fondled my breast. At the same time she lifted the hem of my a-line skirt and caressed the inside of my left thigh. Electrified by her hand on my breast and another so near my pussy, I spread my legs. Touching my pussy through my panties she gloried, "My God, Mary Wilhelm, you're delicious, your panties are soaking wet!

Turning me away from the sink she unbuttoned my blouse, removed it, and then undid my bra. Her lips touched mine (Our kisses are so incredibly tender...soft), undoing her blouse and bra while our lips melted into each other's and her naked breasts encompassed mine. Air whistled through both of our noses and I felt like my pussy was dripping with my roiling juices.

It was like a dream, a slow motion dream: our naked skin touching off tiny explosions where ever it touched, our mouths opening, exuding the dark and humid warmth of our oral cavities, the velvet of one tongue slipping under the pussy-like underside of the other, then swirling to capture our passionate offerings.

My breasts are fibrous... harder than hers. I could feel them being covered by the larger, softer flesh of Amanda's, my hardened points touching her soft nipples into the wide, brown pools of her areolas, pushing them in, until they began to firm, then harden, feeling like giant almonds against my insignificant kernels. Our kiss never broke. She was my mentor, teaching me about the wonders woman-to-woman sex.

As I was growing up it never occurred to me that it was just natural for girls to bond with girls. There were never any constrictions on girls dancing together or holding hands while walking and talking. When we went to the restroom we often did it together, talking with one another between stalls. But as far as sex was concerned it seemed to be unwritten that sex was reserved for boy/girl relationships. Even the suggestion of something different among the girls would cause "ewws."

I always felt comfortable exploring myself, feeling the pleasure of my breasts, the wet, sponginess of my vagina, looking in the mirror and spreading myself, drinking in the visual pleasure of my wet pinkness, feeling my orgasmic muscles tight around my fingers. Had I been able to I would have had my mouth all over my vulva, and wondered what if would be like to taste another woman. At any such suggestion though, I would said "eww," with the rest of my friends, but wondered if they were as curious as I. My curiosity never left me. And the guilty feeling of my being curious always accompanied my curiosity...until the bridge game at my house. And now...

I followed Amanda's lead. She put one finger inside my pussy; I put mine in hers...two fingers; two fingers. We were standing there like a Valentine cartoon, bending from the waist with our knees slightly flexed, kissing. Unlike that cartoon, our hands were reaching to the moistened promise between each other's legs, our fingers driving in and out, flexing to the sensitive fronts of our vaginas, causing the delicious futch, futch, futch sounds of our delicious flooding. So great was our mutual joy that the tight spasms of vaginal muscles squeezed our fingers, after which we removed with a "pop" and a "pop" and hugged each other, our wet hands spreading the delicious oil of our sex over our naked backs.

Amanda made no pretense of what she expected from me. She backed up to the kitchen table, placed her hands on the flat surface and raised her body, sitting on the edge. "Sit down, Mary, and eat," she said to me. I sat down, pulled the chair close and Amanda lifted her legs, placing her calves on my shoulders. "Closer," she said and I scootched in. She leaned back on her hands, her knees breaking over my shoulders and her calves flattening on my back.

Other than my daughter's, when she was a little child, when I was changing her diaper, or when I was giving her a bath, I had never seen another female's pussy. I remember Arthur saying once, when he had been served New Zealand Mussels, "Look Mary, these look just like little pussies." And, when I placed my thumbs on her puffy lips and opened hers that was just how Amanda's pussy appeared to me. Her labia were ginger pink and her clitoris was prominent. Between her folds there was a pool of succulent juice, just like the mussels.

"Enjoy," Amanda said with an inviting smile then laid her back flat on the table. Her breasts were large enough that they flattened and sagged slightly to the side. As my lips moved toward hers my eyes scanned the foreign but pleasing landscape of her neatly trimmed auburn curls atop her full mound, with the gravity flattened pooch of her stomach rising in a graceful slope to her rib cage. Beyond, her substantial breasts topped with her large, almond nipples flattened slightly, and canted to the side, creating a valley that showed only her chin.

The exotic smell rising from the pink sheen of her folds sent shivers down my spine. Just before our lips touched guilty thoughts leaped through my mind. I wondered what someone would think if they were to come into this kitchen, where two mature women were displaying their nakedness in such inconceivable positions. I wondered what Arthur would think, what my daughter would think, what Lee would think...what Lee would think. As my mouth covered Amanda's vulva my mind recaptured the image of Lee's spurting cock and I realized, with guilty pleasure, the surface of the chair beneath my naked ass was awash. Leaning forward, tasting the wonder of Amanda's pussy, my bottom slid in the gusher of my sex and my clitoris demanded attention. Licking Amanda's clitoris, flicking and swirling it, I reached my own and began rubbing. Amanda's legs opened and closed, her chin waggled between the valley of her breasts and she lifted her head and gazed into my eyes which were glued on hers. I could hear and feel her oohs, emphasized by the tiny oval of her mouth which opened when she said, "Yes, Mary, yes."

My nose burrowed into her auburn bush and my chin found the socket of her threshold. When my tongue slathered and slurped around her clitoris she clamped her thighs over my head, blocking out all sound, then, opened them to the noise of her sighs and moans before closing them again squeezing me in her vise.

Remembering how her tongue had felt on my anus, when she had ravished me at my house, I raised her legs and let my tongue slide down to hers. She twitched then wriggled her ass gasping, "Yes, yes!" I felt nasty and wicked but I loved it. My fingers alternated between rubbing my clitoris and digging them into my pussy. Her body was wriggling like an excited eel. Eating like a starving puppy I denied myself breath until I had to gasp for air. My mouth on Amanda's pussy made nasty, beautiful, sloppy slurps and I knew she was on the verge. Once again the vise of her thighs tightened my head, her legs stiffened and her feet wiggled loosely at her ankles. I couldn't hear her orgasm but could sense it...and it begged for mine. With one final push on my clitoris I shuddered then slumped.

I sat back in the hard chair, slumping, my bottom slipping forward in my secretions. I hadn't even realized that I was fucking my mouth with Amanda's big toe. "Oh, my God Mary," she said, "I'm so glad I discovered you." Her big toe left my lips with a pop, and she curled up on the table like a fetus and purred, "Mmmmmm...this is heaven."

She lay like that for a few minutes then sat up, slipped off the table and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Jesus, Mary," she said looking down at the chair, "Are you sure you're not dehydrated?" She wrapped me in her arms and I hugged her tight. We rocked silently for a while before, with her arm over my shoulders; she led me back to her bedroom.

"It's four-thirty Mary. I have to start working on dinner."

I had lost track of time. We had started cleaning up in the kitchen at 2:30. When she had pulled back the covers and we got into bed it was 3:45. We had kissed and fucked each other with our fingers, cuddled and snuggled. Amanda ate my pussy and licked my anus and sucked my toes and I did the same to her. I had once tried 69 with Arthur, but, since he didn't like eating pussy that didn't work. 69 with Amanda, however, was heavenly. Both of us had come over and over again. Kissing Amanda with the juice of her pussy on my lips and the juice of mine on hers was incredibly exotic. Cuddling with her in bed was the most humanly confirming thing I had ever experienced.

"Will you help me change the sheets Mary?" They were soaked with the mixture of our ejaculate and saliva.

While cuddling we shared about our husbands. Arthur was disappointing sexually. When we had met he seemed so exciting, so sexual. But he was a dud, a shell who wasn't able to explode. Amanda's husband, David, was sexually exciting, she said. They had met at a nudist camp, after they had both graduated from college, and they had both been sexually adventurous. Making love to women was just another of her sexual adventures.

The secret within me had reached the point where I felt I would explode if I didn't share with someone. So, I told Amanda about watching my son Lee masturbate.

"Don't let it bother you so much sweetie," she said.

"But I watched him...watched the whole thing. I was a voyeur, and worse... I wanted to suck him."

"It's the most natural thing in the world, Mary, for a mother to fantasize about her son," she said. "Sometimes I think it's primal. I've often felt the same thing for Corey. And... Lee is such a hunk."

It was like she was trying to tell me something. But she had left it at that and we didn't have time to discuss it further. As I was driving home her words kept echoing in my ears, "David and I were always sexually adventurous..."

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