Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, School, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Rachel finds she has to get away from her mother's destructive personality. She takes a trip across country that plunges her into a memorable lesbian relationship that changes every aspect of her life forever.

I knew that I was homely.

I knew, because my mother had been telling me that ever since I was a little girl. There was something wrong with her to do that, true or not, but she had her own inner demons that caused her to act that way, and do a lot of things that just weren't right.

But, what could I do? I was a little girl, and a little girl believes what her mother tells her, especially when she loves her as much as I did. So, growing up, looking very good wasn't really a big concern. As my mother once said, and I've never forgotten, "You can't shine shit."

Yes, that's what she said. To me. And about me.

I'll never forget my 8th birthday. I was SO excited to be able to invite my friends over for a party, just like the other kids. I asked my mother if it would be okay if I had a birthday party, and I was thrilled when she said that she thought that would be wonderful. She added that she would take care of everything, including inviting my friends, that it would be a secret that she would surprise them with, and that I shouldn't "let the cat out of the bag," as she put it, so that they could be thrilled when they received their invitation.

The two weeks before my birthday were the most exciting of my life, as I had to keep what was a big secret for a little girl, inside of me. Of course, like most any other little child, I was only partially successful, but happy that I only spoiled the secret by telling my best friend at the time, Shelley Watkins. Every day, my mother would update me on the preparations for the party, and even let me peek at some of the decorations - they were lovely, ribbons and banners and balloons in pink and lavender and white.

When I told Shelley, she shared my excitement, and promised to keep it our secret, and she did. The night before the party, I could barely sleep. Finally, though, I did, and woke up the morning of my birthday eager and ready for the 1 o'clock party, it being a Saturday. I helped my mother put up the beautiful decorations, my favorite ones were the pink, lavender and white ribbons of crepe paper that ran from the chandelier over the dining room table to each corner of the table. I thought that they were the prettiest things that I had ever seen, and that I would never see anything so beautiful ever again in my life. As the time approached, I could barely contain myself. I was so honored to share my birthday with my friends!

1 o'clock came and passed, and no one showed up. I began to grow restive when there were no shows at 1:30, and frantic by 2 o'clock. My mother looked at me blankly around 2:15 or so, and said, "I don't understand. I mailed them their invitations, and several mothers called me to confirm the time. Although... the ones who called back did say, that they'd TRY to make it, but that they thought something more important might come up."

I was crushed. As more time passed, and no one appeared, or even called, the gay decorations were like a bitter pill, reminding me that no one could really love, much less like, me. It seemed that my mother's low opinion of me was a universally held belief. Far from being the most wonderful day of my life (up to that point), it was like ashes in my mouth, the beautifully decorated cake sitting sadly among the ruins of the hung decorations, the ribbons hanging forlornly now. I couldn't eat it, and in my grief I failed to notice that my mother didn't bother to offer me any presents, presence of guests or no.

It wasn't until later, much later, that I discovered that my mother had deliberately NOT sent out invitations, had not contacted anyone about my party, and, in fact, had told Shelley Watkins' mother, when she called to confirm that there was indeed a party, and for directions to our house, that there was certainly NOT a party, and that "Rachel is somewhat touched in the head, she has delusions sometimes." When I asked Shelley the next school day what had happened, she said sadly, that her mother had told her to stay away from me, that "there's something wrong with you." Things were never the same after that. Not for me.

So, I buried myself in studies and schoolwork, trying to excel in that area, even if it WAS painful to look at me, and even if no one wanted to be my friend. And I'm proud to say that I succeeded beyond my wildest expectations in that area. I earned a scholarship to a highly rated, religious- based university in California. For a girl from the Midwest, it looked like it would be an amazing adventure no matter how it turned out, as I'd never seen any ocean "live and in person," and the school was only a few miles from the Pacific.

Now, in high school, while I'd never made too many friends or joined too many organizations outside of academic groups, I still supported my school's activities, going to all the games and cheering our teams on. They weren't anything special, but it was fun to watch them try, and I took a little lesson from that. I should always try my hardest, even if I DID fail.

But anyway, about midway through high school, I went through a BIG growth spurt, and from a homely, skinny little girl, I grew to a homely teenager with B cup breasts, and an actual round rear end, like the other girls. I could see I was getting looks from some of the boys in the hallways, but I could hear them using words like, "... bag over it..." followed by derisive laughter, so, while my body was attractive, apparently my appearance was not.

But that was okay with me, because while watching our basketball and football teams try, and usually fail, I found my attention wandering to our female cheerleaders. Their long, slim legs, full breasts, round bottoms and frankly, beautiful faces were continually drawing my eye. Soon after, I found that my eyes, usually cast downward at the floor in the hallway, were now resting on some approaching girl's breasts or her ass as she walked away. While boys were looking at me and laughing, I was looking at girls, and appreciating their beauty, even if they weren't "beautiful." I also discovered masturbation then, and after a few abortive attempts at fantasizing about Brad Pitt, I found myself fantasizing about Nicole Kidman, or Hillary Swank, and other beauties, and it wasn't at all long before I discovered the shattering orgasm that began to follow the pleasant tingling sensation I was familiar with.

I'm not stupid, of course, it was becoming obvious to me that I was attracted to females. I felt guilty about that attraction, but I thought that I wouldn't ever be attractive to any lesbian, just as I wasn't attractive to boys. I certainly didn't think of MYSELF as being lesbian. I guess I just figured I was asexual, as I thought I was supposed to be attractive to "get a guy," and I knew THAT wasn't gonna happen.

So, I dressed really plainly, wearing blah colors, longish skirts and dresses, slacks a lot, plain blouses or shirts. I certainly wasn't drawing attention to myself. No makeup, as some boy had once said something about "lipstick on a pig," and, to be honest, it had hurt to hear that, try as I might to ignore such gibes. I let my hair hang down, not doing anything with it other than tying it out of my face so that I could see. It was long, and smooth, I guess I figured pretty hair could cover my ugly face.

Well, the big day arrived. A celibate Rachel (that's me), arrived at the University on a late August day for freshman orientation, registration and move-in. Of course, I had to make the move myself, as my mother would have none of it (as she considered me to be a loser), and truth be told, I didn't want her to be there anyway, so I was spared the conflicts and added stress.

I was assigned my classes, all intro level courses, then moved over to the dorm room assignments. I stood patiently in line with the other freshmen, and when I got to the head of the line, the senior level student behind the table acted as though I weren't even there. She was cute, all dressed up, and proudly wearing a flashy engagement ring. She fussed with some papers, continued to ignore me (or at least remain unaware that I was there) and I had to cough lightly to let her know I was there.

"Yes," she said, looking up. "What do you want?" I was crestfallen. To the others she'd said, "How can I help you?" or similar things. With me, it was "What do you want?" But then it occurred to me that college was a break with my previous life and, while I might still offend her sense of fashion or beauty (or both), I had to start making a stand for myself if I were to survive.

So I said, "What I WANT is for you to get off your fat ass, run your manicured fingernail down that clearly typed list in front of your beautiful, but blind, eyes, pick out MY name, Rachel Jones, which is also clearly displayed on my 'Hello, My name Is' badge, tell me which room I have been assigned, give me the generic package of freebies that you have sitting in that big box by your shapely leg, and then move on to the next freshman, this young man right here behind me with the thick black glasses held together by a band aid. I see that his name is Matthew Chris. Get hopping!"

Her jaw dropped open as the freshmen around me began applauding and cheering. She closed her mouth, then frowning, found my room assignments and gave me my material. "Well, you don't have to get snippy," she said as I accepted the material. "Thank you," I said, and smiled sweetly at her. As I walked away, I began breathing again. Let me tell you, THAT performance was entirely out of character for me!

I looked for "Madison Hall," where my room was located, and wondered who, or what, I'd be paired up with. At the college, they had a practice of pairing freshmen with upperclassmen wherever possible, as a means of integrating them into the student body. I got to the 5th floor, and found room "C," my assigned room. I unlocked the door to find a smallish bedroom, with matching twin beds, desks and counters along the wall, small dressers on each side, and two small closets. One side of the room, almost following an invisible line, was virtually a total mess, with girls' clothes strewn all over it, mementos and kitsch on every flat surface, pictures of a happy, smiling family in various exotic parts of the world, and numerous stuffed bunnies (the fake kind). The other side, completely bare, except for the furniture.

"I guess that's my side," I said to myself. I carried in my bags and boxes, which I'd had shipped in before hand (no tearful separations for MY family, ) and started putting stuff away. I had a few mementoes, and pictures of my late father, and one small picture of my mother and I, in happier times (before I got so homely.) I finally got my stuff settled in, and felt a sharp pain in my intestines. "Whoops, gotta go bathroom," I said, then left the room, closing the door and searching for the bathroom.

I found it down the hall, a group bathroom much like group bathrooms everywhere, with 6 toilet stalls, 6 small shower cubicles, 6 wash basins in a long vanity counter, with a long wall mounted mirror above it. I hurried into one of the stalls, pulled down my jeans and panties, and let nature take its course. I heard the door open while I was waiting, and someone walked over to the vanity, where I heard splashing. I finished, cleaned myself, then exited the stall, walking over to one of the wash basins.

Already standing there, washing her face, was a petite blonde in a wrinkled sweatshirt and shorts, and sneakers. Her face was hidden behind her hands, as she was in the process of rinsing off. I turned on the water to wash my hands as she brought her hands down, and turned to look at me. Even with water dripping off her face, her blonde bangs wet and stringy, and wearing a grungy, sweaty outfit, I knew that she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life.

"Oh, hi!" she said perkily, smiling at me. "You must be one of the frosh... right?"

I had to consciously close my mouth. I couldn't believe I was in the presence of a super model (one who WASN'T anorexic), and it took me a moment to catch my breath. "Uh, yeah," I said.

"Well, welcome to Madison," she said. "We call it... you guessed it... 'The Madhouse.'"

"Thanks," I said. I was SO nervous! "Gotta go," I said, exiting as fast as my feet could carry me without tripping. I headed down the hall toward the room, and turned the knob. Well, TRIED to turn the knob, but it was locked. "Oops, gotta use the key," I said to myself.

The key.

The key that was sitting on the dresser next to a picture of my father. Oh, great. I'd now have to get someone to unlock the door. If that trip somehow took me back to that sorority queen at the registration table, my face was going to be bright red!

I slumped down onto the floor, my back against the wall, to think about things. Maybe there was an RA already around, who'd have a key to let me in. The RA's room number was in my paperwork.

In my room.

The room that was locked, with the key on the dresser.

I was pondering this turn of events, when the bathroom door opened, and the blonde walked toward me. "Problem?" she said.

"Yeah, I locked myself out of my room. I don't know where, or who, my roommate is, and I don't know which room the RA's in and I CAN'T go to the registration table-"

"Whoa, there," she said. "You're going to give yourself hiccups!"

"Yeah, well, I've gotta get in. I guess my roommate's gonna think I'm a real stupid freshman. Ugly and stupid's no way to go through life," I said, partially as a reflexive defense to her probable conclusion that I was an Uglo-American, and partially as a tribute to Dean Wormer, in the movie Animal House, one of my favorite movies.

"I don't think you're ugly," she said. "You might be stupid, but you seem pretty smart so far to me. Besides, that's my room. I mean, our room. So, I'll let you in." She grinned at me, and I couldn't help but grin back. Holy cow, a beautiful girl as my roommate! I hoped she wasn't stuck up, she seemed okay so far. I got up and she let me in, following me in to the room. I turned quickly to thank her, and was surprised to find her eyes on my butt. I dismissed the thought, figuring she'd been looking at something else.

We got to talking, it turned out her name was Kira Sterling, and she was a cheerleader for the school. If you're thinking like Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders, remember, this was a religious based school. They wore relatively revealing outfits, lots of leg and the ones with big tits got to show them off, but no bare midriff or unnecessary beaver shots. Still plenty sexy though, as I observed over my 4 years there.

She was a sophomore majoring in theology. "I'd like to become a pastor, believe it or not," she told me. I told her that I was undecided, but kind of thought I might get a degree in economics. "You must be really smart," she said. "I took an Econ class first semester, and I didn't have a clue what they were talking about. I dropped it for a marketing class."

Kira told me all about her family, about how close they were, and the various trips they'd gone on. When she asked me about mine, I hesitated. "What's the matter?" she said. "You looked so sad when I asked about your family," a look of concern on her face.

"It's just that... my father died when I was pretty young, and life with my mom was pretty rough." I couldn't believe I was spilling out my heart to her, someone I'd just met. By the time I was through, I could see tears welling in her eyes.

"I can't believe she said those things to you about how you look! And they're just not TRUE!"

"They're not?" I asked.

"See, you grew up with that crap, so you never thought to question it. I bet if you just learned a few things that every other girl already knows, you could get a look on, girl!" Kira smiled at me, and I smiled back. "Well, thanks for cheering me up, I'll think about it," I said. We went to our own sides of the room, and began attending to our own responsibilities. I was looking through my books, which had cost a small fortune, and Kira began putting her clothes away. Later, Kira invited me to go with her to the cafeteria, and we ate together, she introduced me to a couple of her friends.

A week later, we went to a dorm meeting in the lounge on the first floor, where the RA went over the ground rules. Just think a normal 1950's college and the rules in 2000 were the same. No guys in the dorm outside of the lounge, no liquor, etc. Kira and I went upstairs after watching TV, and got ready for bed. I usually wore flannel pajamas to bed, they weren't exactly sexy, but who would care? They WERE comfortable.

Kira stripped down to her panties, and took off her bra. "God, those things are uncomfortable," she said. "But you can just imagine what the faculty would say if your nipples started poking out of your blouse, huh?" I had had plenty of chances to steal peeks at Kira by this point. We'd been roommates for a week, now, and I guess I probably had a crush on her, if only for her willingness to be friendly to me. But honestly, she WAS the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. 5' 0" tall, 110 pounds, medium-blonde hair that she always had tied back in a ponytail, cute snub nose, even white teeth, a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, sparkling blue eyes, a constant smile, long, graceful neck, shapely 34 B breasts, with the loveliest small pink nipples, a flat stomach, nicely rounded hips and full butt, a moderate thatch of curly blonde hairs in a natural v-shape at her pussy, slim thighs and calves, pretty, smooth feet.

So seeing her in her usual nightly get up of cotton panties, usually with some kind of little animals on them (tonight was teddy bears) wasn't unexpected, but a constant, small pleasure for me that, in honesty, gave me fuel for masturbating sometimes when I was alone in our room, or in the toilet stall. Something about her that night, though, got me wet almost instantly. I could feel a warm tingle between my legs as we said good night, and she turned off the light.

I lay there, awake, for what seemed the longest time, in the dark. Thoughts of the lovely Kira ran through my brain. Her body seemed to take up every bit of RAM (sorry, I was taking Intro to Personal Computers LOL) in my head. Eventually I heard soft snoring coming from her side of the room.

I snaked my hand under the elastic band of my pj bottoms, over my thankfully flat and smooth stomach and 'innie' belly button, then under the thin elastic band of my plain white cotton panties, through the patch of curly brown pubic hair above my own slit, lightly touching my sensitive clit, my legs jerking slightly already from the contact, to my labia on either side of my pink slit. Moisture had already gathered inside my pussy, and with the contact of my finger tip touching the silky interior walls, the moisture ran down to the part of my opening closest to my rear end.

My vagina gratefully accepted the intrusion of my slim finger, and I slid it in all the way up to my hand, until it could go no farther. I hissed my breath out at the thrill of pleasure that ran through my body, and I fantasized that it was Kira sliding her finger inside me. I wanted her deeper inside me, and more of her. I whimpered as the finger slid in and out, faster and faster, and as my thumb stroked across my sensitive clit, I groaned, and whispered "Kira," cumming again and again as waves of ecstasy splashed over me. My body quivered with my multiple orgasms, momentarily kicking off the blanket and sheet, exposing my hand thrust down inside my pj bottoms. I lay there supine for a few moments ( I thought), then awoke some time later with the realization that I'd fallen asleep. My pj bottoms and panties had slipped down over my hips, my pussy clearly exposed, my finger coated with my fluids. I pulled up my panties and pjs, then I looked over at Kira. By the dim light from the Snoopy nightlight we'd won at the Student Carnival earlier, I saw that she was asleep, though she'd also kicked off her coverings, her perky breasts so attractive and erect even in that dim light, her own hand between her thighs, though outside of her panties (of course). I gazed for a few moments at her beautiful, slim, feminine form, wished that I were so lucky, then hurriedly readjusted myself, pulling the covers up and finally returning to sleep.

The next morning I woke up some time after Kira, as she had an 8 o'clock, and my first class wasn't until 9. I opened my eyes to see her standing over me. "Good morning, sleepy head," she said cheerfully. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," I said. "How 'bout you?"

"Oh yes, wonderful dreams, though I really can't remember them now, and I slept like a log," she said. She looked at me thoughtfully, but didn't say anything, until I felt compelled to say, "What?"

"Nothing," she trilled, then, opening the door said, "Have a lovely day, sweetheart." As she exited I sat wondering. Kira often used endearments with me and her friends, like 'Sweetie, ' but 'Sweetheart?' Perhaps I was reading too much into one word.

I found myself going to all of the school's football games, not to watch the players, but to watch Kira. I think I was her biggest fan! She looked lovely in her cheerleader outfit, and when she saw me in the stands, she gave me a wave, and gestured to me to come down to where they hung out. I told her that I thought she was really great, and went on like that, then realized I was babbling, and my face turned really red. Kira thanked me, and hugged me. I felt so loving to her when she did that.

I fell into the academic schedule I was used to, with the added fillip of Kira inviting me to various events at school. I went to some of them, and had fun, but the greatest fun was from watching Kira smile and laugh as she'd joke with, and talk to, the other students. Kira didn't seem to have a regular boyfriend, though she'd occasionally go out on dates with various boys. Of course, at a religious school, the dating didn't normally get serious.

The big event on campus in October, of course, was Homecoming. Along with the required football game was a small parade, and a Homecoming King and Queen, and their Court. I was thrilled when Kira was selected as a "Princess" of the Homecoming Court, the only sophomore so selected, and a testament to her popularity and beauty. Kira asked me to help her get dressed for the coronation ceremony that night, which I happily did.

Kira and I had gone shopping and after much walking, and window shopping, and comparing of styles, and colors and fabrics, we finally found a lovely knee length, scoop neck formal gown in Duchess satin and chiffon that we both especially liked. I made sure that her dress was nicely laid out while she showered in the 5th floor bathroom. She came walking into the room after showering, with a bath towel wrapped around her, and my heart skipped a beat at seeing how pretty she was, before she had even put on any makeup, in addition to the lovely leg show she was giving me, entirely unconsciously.

I was happiest when Kira acceded to my suggestion to weave long, thin pink, white and lavender satin ribbons into her long, blonde hair, and in conjunction with her pink and ivory formal gown, the effect was simply smashing. There was no doubt that she'd be the most beautiful woman there, and I sincerely wished her as much happiness as possible.

"You're coming too, right Rachel?" Kira asked anxiously. "I won't enjoy it at all unless you're there."

"Oh, I wish I could make it," I lied, "but I've GOT to finish this paper if I want to keep my scholarship." But Kira would hear none of it.

"If YOU don't go, then I'M not going to go!" she declared.

"But you're part of the ceremony," I pleaded. "You HAVE to go!"

"Which means YOU have to go," Kira countered.

"Alright, I'll go. I promise," I lied again. "I'll see you there." Of course, I knew that this joyous occasion was not one suitable for an ugly duckling like me, but that Kira should enjoy all the glory, and happiness, she had coming to her.

"Okay, then," Kira said, with a relieved look. "It really WOULDN'T be enjoyable for me if you weren't there!" I felt badly about lying to her, but I knew that once the party started, she'd be okay and forget about me. When she left, I returned to my studies, and tried to put her out of my mind. I pictured her having a wonderful night, dancing with the boys there, a night that she'd never forget. Sweet Kira deserved no less than total happiness.

I dozed off, and woke up when I heard the door bang open. "Rachel, where were you?" Kira cried. "I looked, and looked and looked, but I never saw you! What happened? Are you alright?" I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and said, "I'm really sorry Kira, I got caught up in my paper, and then dozed off. Let me look at you," I said, trying to change the subject.

"You look absolutely stunning," I said, which was no lie. All of her was so exquisite, but her beautiful, blonde hair, with the pastel ribbons streaming in it, was breathtaking to me. "Tell me who you danced with."

"Well, I danced with Rob Turner, the halfback on the football team. You know, the one who's trying to grow a moustache?" We both giggled at that. He wasn't being very successful at facial hair.

"And, who else?" I said.

"That was it, just Rob," Kira said with a slight frown.

"You danced ALL NIGHT with Rob?" I said. "Spill it girl, I didn't even know you'd ever dated him, and you all hooked up?"

"No, far from it," Kira said with a snort. "He put his hand on my ass as soon as the dance started, and kept sticking his leg between my thighs. Christ, what a rutting donkey!"

"So, what did you do?" I said. I hadn't a clue what I'D do, but I also knew I'd never be in that situation, either.

"I just went outside, and looked at the stars, and thought... about stuff," Kira said, looking me in the eyes now. Her eyes were so intensely, heartbreakingly blue, that I felt lost in some remote corner of the Pacific Ocean. I felt uncomfortable and turned back to my study desk, and sat down.

I heard Kira move over to her side of the bed, then begin taking off her dress. I heard the rustling of the chiffon as she carefully laid it out on her dresser. She slipped on a silk blouse over her lace bra, but just wore her white lace panties, with no bottoms. Her feet were barefoot, her toenails pink (her polish of choice), her fuzzy bunny slippers she usually wore around the dorm on the other side of the room. "Rachel, I'm worried about something," she said.

"What?" I said.

"It's my breast, I think there might be a lump or something."

"Oh no!" I replied.

"Could you... could you feel it, and let me know what you think?" she said.

"Okay, sure," I said. Kira sat next to me on the bed, as I sat in the chair. She looked into my eyes, and smiled shyly, then slowly began unbuttoning her blouse, first the top button, then each button down, until her blouse was unbuttoned, but still closed, just a small patch of her white lace bra visible through the opening, my eyes drawn to it. Kira nervously flicked her hair back over her right ear, biting her lip nervously, her eyes leaving mine momentarily. I guessed she must be nervous about what I'd find.

She brought each hand to the opening of the shirt, and pulled it back, exposing her beautiful bra- covered breasts and her lovely tan skin. She had a faint, light dusting of freckles like those on her nose, between the mounds of her breasts, just above the white of her bra. I so wished that I could kiss her there, then. Her breasts heaved with her nervousness. Her eyes had returned to mine, and she was smiling again, proud of what she was offering me. She slipped the blouse completely back and off her shoulders, then off her arms. She was now completely bare above her waist, except for the white lace bra, which jutted out from her full twin mounds.

The bra was over the shoulder, with a rear hook. Kira reached behind her back to unhook the bra, which pushed her lovely breasts even closer to me. She gave it a jerk, as she pulled the hook and eye apart, then brought her arms forward again, the bra falling off her breasts as the pressure holding it there disappeared. The straps of the bra ran down her arms, over her hands, the bra a small white puddle at her feet.

My eyes were on the bra, on the floor. I was suddenly terrified to look up, at those beautiful breasts that I'd dreamt about so much. I could visualize their roundness, their softness, the pale skin that hadn't been kissed by the summer sun, her small, pink nipples so perfect. Would they be stiff, perhaps sticking out towards me, begging to be kissed and licked, taken into my mouth where I could suckle them, surround their pebbled roughness with my soft, warm tongue, smelling her feminine aroma as she offered herself to me? No, I couldn't do it.

"Umm, uhh... I'm not sure-" I began, but Kira interrupted me.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, you were studying and I just sprung that-" It was my turn to interrupt her.

"No, I'm sorry, you're asking for help, I'll be happy to-" I looked up and saw those perfect, perfect breasts, her lovely sweet pink nipples, her faint pulse reflected in her left breast's nipple, as it moved so slightly with each beat of her loving heart... and I was struck speechless.

We must have been like that for hours, my eyes fastened on to a small part of the perfection that was Kira, Kira smiling at me expectantly. But only seconds later Kira saying, "Well, you can probably tell better if you feel for it."

"Huh?" I said. "Of course, which one was it?" I asked, in as professional a manner as I could summon.

"Right here," as she lifted up her right breast with her right hand, then lightly rolled her left hand across the warmth of the flesh. "Well, I THOUGHT it was here. You try it." I felt my hand shaking with nerves as I brought it closer to the round, swelling warmth of her full bosom. My hand clumsily pressed into her womanly flesh, then crashed into her stiffly erect delicate pink nipple, as I sought to place my flattened fingers against the spot she'd indicated. Kira groaned quietly, and I pulled back.

"Oh! Did I hurt you?" I asked.

"No... no," she said. "Umm, roll your fingers across here, and tell me what you think, okay?"

I returned my fingers to her breast, its warmth welcoming me. I pressed and rolled my fingers across the skin and tissue underneath, but felt nothing unusual in the area. "Kira, I think, umm, it feels okay. I mean, I don't feel anything like, unusual."

"That's funny," she said, "I'm sure I felt something before. Let me try it again." She rolled her fingers across both breasts now, her nipples stiffly erect. I ached to take them into my mouth. "No, nothing now, but then I'm not very good at this. Do you check your breasts, Rachel?"

"Yeah, pretty often," I said.

"Would you mind showing me how you check yours?" Kira asked innocently. God, I was torn. Part of me wanted to flash my breasts to lovely Kira, and have her caress them with her gentle hands. Part of me wanted to run and hide with my shame and embarrassment. "But, you're here in college, Rachel," I thought to myself. "You've got to be adult, you've got to get over your looks, and just GROW UP!"

"Uh, sure," I said. I pulled up the tee shirt I was wearing, over my head and set it on the desk. I reached behind to loosen the clasp on my bra, and had trouble reaching it. "Here, let me help," Kira volunteered, and I felt her warm fingertips brushing against the smooth skin of my back, as she fumbled with the hook. "Uh. There. Got it." She said, after some time. I had very much enjoyed the contact of her fingers with my back, and groaned from the simple pleasure, not even so much a sexual one, but contact with another human.

"Need a back rub, Rachel?" she asked.

"It DID feel nice," I admitted. Shrugging off my bra, I put it on the desk next to the shirt.

"Here, lean back a little and I'll run my fingernails across your back, massage you a little, okay? It's marvelous for releasing tension," Kira whispered. I did as she asked, and experienced the thrill of this beautiful girl's fingers drawing tension out of my body. Her fingers traced a progression along my spine, always downward, then out an inch or two, still downward, pressing, rubbing, kneading... I felt myself melting, melting, like a snow woman basking in the rays of the early spring sun, only to find herself disappearing. I, too, was disappearing into the pleasure, and comfort of Kira's wonderfully strong hands.

My perception of the light and world around me began fading, as though progressive tunnel blindness had hit me and torn through me in a matter of minutes. As from a distance, I heard Kira, sotto voce, "Let me get a little closer, so that I can do you more nicely." I was vaguely aware of her warm, fragrant, naked thighs advancing further around my own jeans clad hips, Kira's hard-tipped, full breasts pressing lightly against my smooth back, the heat of her nearly naked crotch rising up between us, and swirling along the skin of my back - or were those her magical fingertips?

I groaned from the sheer pleasure of Kira's touch, and from the intoxication of her proximity. She stroked me, still always downward, and I became acutely aware of her fingers leaving my flesh a mere inch from the waistband of my jeans. Like a man who's lost his arm, I felt a phantom sensation, her fingers continuing downward, across the sensitive skin of my rear, skin that had never been stroked or caressed by another, but which now cried out at missing her sweet touch.

As ultimate as I thought that pleasure to be, it was far exceeded by her soft, warm hands reaching under my arms to momentarily cup my full breasts, then lightly tweaking my erect nipples, eliciting a soft moan from me. "Oh, did I hurt you?" Kira said. "I just wanted to examine your breasts, to see if they felt like mine." Her stiff nipples, then the rest of her warm soft breasts, began pressing into my back, as she reached forward to better touch my own breasts. A soft, erotic tingle ran through my dripping slit, as Kira rolled and kneaded my own full breasts between her knowing fingers. The pleasure went on ceaselessly, my mind lost in the Kira- induced woman-to-woman ecstasy. Too soon, perhaps a lifetime later, Kira's delicious hands left my swelling breasts, to return to my back.

As though reading my mind, and perhaps she was, Kira said, "I could do a better job if you take off your jeans. Maybe lay on the bed?" I could feel her looking at me, awaiting an answer. I stumbled out, "Yeah, yeah," and her fingers deserted my back, in effect, coaxing me to move to the bed, which I did. As I rose to move over to her bed, the closer of the two, I looked back to see Kira looking at me expectantly, as would be expected, but I sensed an undercurrent of some emotion that I had never experienced before. A warm, welcoming desire that frightened me subtly, but which I could no more deny than I could my next breath of air.

My eyes were locked into hers, my green into her blue, my body turned sideways to her. I knew my nipples were hard, my modest but noticeable B cups full and rosy with a rising passion, and I wondered what she thought of them. Not quite as prominent as Kira's, still, they might not disappoint her if she were to be attracted to them. I had no idea after all this what was happening. I thought that all the attraction was in my own mind, that Kira was innocently trying to relax me. Perhaps she was. Perhaps it went beyond what either of us expected.

My shaking fingers slid across my stomach to the top snap of my jeans. Kira's eyes momentarily left mine, and followed my hands on their downward trip. The snap was soon free, and my right hand accompanied the zipper down, as it released the tension of the jeans on my hips, and exposed more and more of my plain white cotton panties. When the zipper stopped, I looked down, from habit, and to my shock and horror, saw a big, round wet spot where my pussy hid behind the soft fabric.

I gasped slightly, and looked up at Kira. Her face was inscrutable, I didn't know if she'd seen it. I quickly stepped out of the jeans, turning my hips and back on Kira, hiding the cum spot on my panties, but now exposing my round, quivering bottom inside the panties to her view. I was afraid to look around, but I could feel the weight of her eyes on my bottom. I looked hesitantly at the beauteous Kira, her own full breasts gracefully exposed, her sweet, small pink nipples nonetheless full and jutting out proudly. I crawled onto the bed, momentarily supine, with my full breasts hanging down, my bottom sticking up and vulnerable to anyone who might care to caress it, or take some other liberty. I feared, and hoped, that it would be so.

I lay down flat then, on my stomach, my dark brown hair partially covering my back and shoulders, and partially fanned out over the pillow, which smelled magnificently of Kira's body spray, and some other feminine aroma that I could not put my finger on at that moment. I inhaled the mixed fragrances, and a strong erotic tingle imprinted itself on my pussy and clit. No matter what happened in the future, I would never, ever forget the circumstances where I had smelled that heady mixture. I suspected that the smell alone could induce one of the pale orgasms I had previously experienced in my masturbatory fantasies.

After a pause, I felt Kira sit next to me on the bed, her warm, smooth hips next to mine. The aroma I smelled on the pillow was stronger now, and I moved my head to the side to look at Kira. Her small lace panties now lay on the floor next to the bed, and it was clear that she was completely nude. The doubts that I had had about our relationship were dispelling now, still, Kira left one small seed of doubt. "I took off my panties, I hope you don't mind, it frees me up to reach across while giving massages." Oh. Disappointment flared in the pit of my stomach. Still, the aroma of Kira was SO strong now.

Her hands returned to my back, not as tense as when she'd started, but still in need of further ministration. "I'll need to straddle your back, " Kira said, "so that I can evenly reach both sides. Okay?" I nodded, and added a grunt. I felt her leg swing over me, then settle over on my left side, as she sat upright on my middle back. Her crotch was hot, and damp, as she continually pressed it against me, every time she reached forward to knead my shoulders. I fancied that I could feel the soft curls of her pubic hair tracing her perfume across my back. And then the source of that wonderful fragrance came clear to me!

It was the combination of Kira's favorite body spray, one that I already associated with her everyday presence, and the lubrication produced by her intense erotic arousal. But why on her pillow... unless that pillow often found itself between her smooth, slim thighs, pressed against her moist cunt, perhaps in sleep or, more excitingly, perhaps while she masturbated! The thought of the soft pillow, once pressed into her slick pink slit, now against my face excited ME greatly, and I felt my labia and clit swelling with blood in my excitement. A passage from a "Human Sexuality" textbook came to then..."the female's clitoris and labia majorum and minorum swell with blood during sexual arousal, as the female prepares to receive her mate."

God! Was I getting so excited because I wanted to get fucked by Kira? I didn't know, but I did know that the contact of her naked skin with mine, and the sweet fragrance of her hot and dripping pussy, were inflaming me to the heights of sexual ecstasy.

"Yeah, that's better," Kira said, "now I can reach you all over." Her probing fingers resumed their exploration, and healing, of my back, and of my shattered emotions. Resuming her prior pattern of starting at the shoulders, then kneading and squeezing her way down, now she did not stop at my lower back as before, but continued to the sensitive swell of my upper buttocks, touching and healing me there, too. I had never realized that my buttocks could be stimulated in that manner, much like my breasts, but found myself desiring her feminine touch down there, in a most ignored area.

As though sensing my need, Kira concentrated more and more on my grateful ass, moving down until her warm, strong thighs rested on my own thighs, and began massaging my bottom itself, through my cotton panties. I groaned involuntarily with pleasure. Apparently ignoring me, Kira said, "I'll need to pull your panties down, in order to massage you a little better, okay?" My response was a grunted moan, which she took for assent. I felt her raise her hips up, then her slim fingers curled under the elastic band of my panties, slipping them down over the swell of my rear end, then, leaving them bunched a few inches down my thighs, under the lower swell of my bottom.

At this point, I found her baring me in this manner, to be far more erotic than if she had completely stripped my wet panties off me. My ass cheeks, my anus, and even my pussy were completely exposed to her now. My little pussy quivered as the first orgasm overwhelmed me, my hips and thighs continually pressing together in spastic reaction to the erotic delight Kira had given me, though I didn't know if she intended it or not. In any case, Kira avoided touching me as I quivered with pleasure, then, as the ripples slowed and stopped radiating through my vulnerable body, she once again gently took up her massage of the full, round orbs of my ass.

"Funny," she said absently. "Your butt cheeks are flushed red. Has that ever happened before?" I moaned something. :"Well, just thought you should know," she finished. "By the way, your bottom is very warm, too. Feels nice." How warm her hands felt, too. And knowing, as she began to probe between my ass cheeks. Slightly separating my full, round globes, her fingers kneaded in a circular pattern on each cheek, the circle slightly expanding each time as her fingers gained closer and closer to my vulnerable anus.

Never in my wildest erotic imaginings, strumming my thumb across my aroused clit in my solitary masturbation, had I ever considered that my ass hole might play any part in arousal, or sexual fulfillment. But now, the lovely Kira was bringing her fingers ever closer to the puckered flesh surrounding my anus, and I found myself desiring more. I prayed that Kira might touch me there, though no one, including me, had ever done it before. Her fingers lightly stroked near, then across my anus, until she abandoned that pattern, and created a new one, focused completely on my anus! She began circling that so-sensitive orifice with the tip of her fingernail, radiating inward from a few inches out, until she was nearly poised to enter the opening, her fingertip penetrating me to the depth of one quarter inch, and no more. Out of nowhere, I found my hips attempting to rise, to actually take her finger inside my tight hole.

As though completely unaware of my own inner erotic turmoil, Kira remarked, "Your little hole is pink, Rachel, it looks very lovely, like a little mouth begging to be kissed." God!! That was all the image I needed to set me off again, in my second orgasm of the day, particularly when her finger then penetrated me up to her first knuckle. My ass visibly shook and bounced at the strength of this climax, and Kira, as though sensing something occurring, held her finger there, lightly impaling me. That was the first object ever to penetrate me, in my virginal homeliness, and I was eternally grateful for the affection and care that Kira was showing me. But I still wasn't sure what her intentions were.

"I think it's time you turned over," Kira said. "I want to do your front now." There wasn't anything I wanted more than to lay myself open to my beloved Kira, and nothing that I wanted less, than to face her in my shame at my wantonness. She must think me a total slut, to so enjoy exposing my most intimate parts, and to cum with another woman's finger in my anus. Slowly though, as she raised herself up to allow me, I rolled over, shamefaced, and as I completed the turn, lying now on my back, my chest heaving with the residue of my pleasure, fluids running down the back of my thighs from my overheated pussy and throbbing clit, my nipples swollen and sensitive to touch.

Kira adjusted herself until her naked hips were situated directly over mine, straddling me, her knees bent and legs folded under her. In this position, nothing of hers was hidden from me. Her nipples too, were erect, her breathing quickened and shallow, the curly blonde hairs above her pink slit bedewed with small pearls of her own lubrication, the vertical slit of hers about which I had dreamed, pouting and red, the lips parted and glistening, and my own thoughts went to the possible pleasure of kissing them.

I looked up to see her lipsticked lips also parted and glistening, and she unconsciously licked her lower lip with the tip of her pink tongue. Her eyes glazing, Kira gave a little cry, and pressed herself against me, her mouth quickly drawn to mine, our breasts nestling together, her hips burrowing down between my spread legs. I instinctively drew my legs up to my chest, and our wet pussies were soon kissing, our erect clits rubbing together, sparks shooting off inside each of us. Kira's long blonde hair, intertwined with pastel ribbons, mingled with my silky long brown hair on my shoulders, and on the pillow underneath me.

Kira's lips pressed against mine, her tongue aggressively invading my virginal mouth. I welcomed her inside me, our tongues rubbing up against each other, like two kittens playing together. Our moans became a joint symphony of our passion, Kira's hips pumping into mine, her sweet juices running out of her holy pussy into mine. I thrust up against her, vainly attempting to meld my pussy with hers. Amidst our moans, and sighs, and sweet whispers, we both orgasmed then, together, and just as my first two orgasms under her ministrations had overshadowed those I had previously experienced from masturbation, so too, this orgasm made the others look pale and weak. I was transported to heaven, to heights of ecstasy, I pledged myself forever to be sweet Kira's own, her lover, her slave.

If only she would have me.

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