Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Copyright© 2025 by EroticScribbler
Chapter 8
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8 - With a cloud of naughty erotica hanging overhead, can Margaret, a woman with a past she doesn’t want to remember, find peace in her new life as a rich wife, or will a conflict with her stepson’s new girlfriend and a friend from her past unravel the new world she wants to become a part of? From the best-selling author of Potential and Attic Voyeur: The Incest Next Door.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Fiction First Masturbation Oral Sex
They started kissing, and with every nerve fiber of her body crackling, Maggie did what she had thought about doing since the lumps on Sammy’s chest became obvious. She grabbed her best friend’s tit, and it was as if she had always known what to do with it.
Sammy’s hand was on Maggie’s stomach, a fingertip circling her belly button, then it wasn’t. Fingernails raking tender flesh fired off signals in Maggie’s brain that made her body insane with sensations. It was as if she could feel every pubic hair Sammy’s fingers raked through on their way down, down, down.
Surges of blood rushed in roaring whooshes through Maggie’s ears. Three fingertips had rounded the curve. The one in the middle curled, gently tugging upward on the skin that protected Maggie’s most sensitive nub of flesh. She wondered how it had taken her so many years to find it, yet Sammy had gone directly there and was already stroking it exactly how Maggie wanted.
Both of her legs tried to fly open, but one was blocked by Sammy’s body. Maggie whimpered when Sammy grasped her crotch and dragged a finger up the center of her labia. It parted and Maggie gasped as the inflamed insides were exposed to the cool air.
Sammy’s fingertip circled the opening. “Maggie ... may I?” The question that would be asked many times in the future rarely required Maggie to answer verbally.
The feel of Sammy’s tit, the hard nipple pressing into her palm, the moist panting peppermint breath on her cheek, the leg wrapped around hers, and her best friend’s eyes staring into hers all contributed to the orgasm Sammy’s thrusting finger and clit-grinding hand caused. It might have been silent, or maybe not, but in Maggie’s mind, she was wailing when it hit, and she knew the climaxes she’d been giving herself hadn’t been real orgasms.
Beyond acknowledging how good it had been, they didn’t discuss what it meant for them. They continued exploring sex, fucking when the mood and opportunity coincided, and even had boyfriends while doing it. It went on like that for a long time, but one day, after intense lovemaking, Maggie had to know, so she asked, “What does this mean?”
“Why does it have to mean anything?” Sammy asked.
“It has to mean something,” Maggie said. “We have boyfriends, and we’re, ah, we just, you know, with each other. Are we bi or lesbos, are we together, or what?”
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