by Ella Ford
In those first few weeks, I spent a lot of time discovering myself. The freedom of college and the memory of my steamy encounters in the last days of that endless summer spurred me on to pursue my deepest desires. I joined clubs and societies for lesbians, visited dyke bars downtown and generally embraced my blossoming sexuality, finding myself in ever more sordid encounters with a succession of willing girls.
I revelled in it, feeling like a caged bird set free. The urges and temptations that I had been suppressing for my entire life now ruled me and I allowed myself to be taken where they wished.
“In the last month,” Alicia confidently stated, “you’ve had more pussy than all the male freshmen put together!” We laughed, but inwardly I realised that she wasn’t far from the truth.
Mrs Johanson and our sordid trysts sank to the back of my mind. My obsession with the older woman became a nostalgic memory, one to be savored on those lonely nights when my hand fell between my legs. I never expected to hear from her ever again.
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One cold fall day in late November, I found myself staying back in the college library to put the finishing touches to an essay on Nabokov that was due the following week. I loved the library at this time of night, long after the clamoring hordes of students had given up their pretence of doing any actual work and taken their gossip and procrastination elsewhere.
As I was typing the final lines of my paper, my cellphone buzzed and played the text message notification sound. I picked it up to read the message, expecting a drunken photo from Alicia who would likely be cavorting with some football player or other.
Stephanie, I’m in town for the night. Do you want to meet up? HJ xx
I didn’t recognise the number, but the initials HJ could only be one person - Helen!
My heart skipped a beat, then accelerated to pound in my chest. The feelings of that long summer swept over me and engulfed my recent thoughts, obscuring everything with their raw intensity.
With trembling hands, I tapped a response. Not even pausing to think about the rights or wrongs of what I was doing. I was driven by a deeper instinct than normal, a primal desire that had bubbled away beneath the surface for the last months, but which now rose to control my actions.
Of course. Where did you have in mind? S x
Within seconds, she texted back, suggesting a cocktail bar downtown. I gulped, not recognising the name. A quick search on the internet told me that this was a classy joint, not the typical dive bars that I usually frequented. I figured that my usual t-shirt and skinny jeans wouldn’t cut it at this place, and quickly gathered up my books and laptop to head for the dorm. I was going to need Alicia’s help!
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Two hours later, I was sitting in the bar downtown. It was midweek, so the place was pretty quiet, just a few other patrons here and there, relaxing after a hard day at work. I felt oddly overdressed. Alicia had really gone to town, insisting that I make a real effort for my “first lesbian love”.
She put me in her tightest little black dress, a tiny number that plunged way down my cleavage and way up my thighs. To complete the outfit, I was wearing black thigh high stockings and shiny black high heeled pumps that I found very difficult to walk in. I hoped Helen didn’t want to go dancing! With my hair down and thoroughly brushed and a decent makeup job I looked quite something, even if I do say so myself.
I’d selected a booth table and ordered myself a martini while I waited. It was now ten minutes after the time Helen said she’d be there and I was starting to get nervous. What if she didn’t turn up? What if she’d found something better to do with her night in the city? What if she’d found another girl? I shook my head and tried to calm myself. It was only ten minutes after all. But the niggling doubt persisted.
Another ten minutes passed and I was about to give up and slink out of the door, when I saw her. She was working her way through the bar and hadn’t seen me yet. I took the opportunity to compose myself, studying the older woman as she approached. She was the model of sophistication that night. She wore a black pant suit with tight trousers that finished above her ankle and emphasised her long slender legs. Her white blouse was open to her chest and flashed a tantalising glimpse of cleavage. On her feet, she wore precarious heels with a sharp stiletto. She had no trouble walking on them and strode confidently across the room. Her hair was down, a cascading waterfall of raven locks that tumbled down her back and splashed on her shoulders.
I was dumbfounded. All of the confidence that my early college months had given me disappeared in a flash and I reverted to the stuttering girl from back home. I suddenly wanted to leave, feeling very out of place in this high class establishment and woefully inadequate for Helen Johanson. But I remained in my seat, wanting to attract her attention but not daring to move.
She caught sight of me and waved, then headed over to the table. I stood to meet her and we embraced warmly. As I held her, I caught her scent in my nose. That intoxicating perfume caused my heart to pound in my chest and whisked my mind back several months to that passionate night in my bedroom. I stuttered a brief hello and sank back into my seat.
Helen shrugged out of her jacket and sat beside me. She signalled the waiter over and confidently ordered a drink for herself and another drink for me. I felt like a schoolgirl in her presence. More like a field trip with a teacher than a date between two adult woman.
As our drinks arrived, we fell into a conversation of awkward small talk. She asked me how I was enjoying college, about my classes. We talked about my major and she told me a few stories about her time as a student. Eventually, we exhausted the limited points of common interest between us and fell silent.
After a short while, Helen spoke again, gazing down into her drink and absentmindedly dragging her index finger around the rim of the glass. “So, Stephanie, are you seeing anyone? Any boys?”, she paused, “Any girls?”
I blushed, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the line of questioning and not wanting to put her off me. “Th-there’s been a few… girls… but no-one… special,” I managed to say.
Helen smiled warmly. “I’m glad you’re finding yourself.”
I suddenly felt a warmth on my leg and realised that Helen had slipped off her shoe and was lightly caressing my calf with her toes. I gasped at her touch, and looked at her across the table. She was resting her chin on her hand and studying me intently, her mouth curled in a cheeky half-smile.
Her foot continued to stroke my stockinged leg as she stared at me.
“You know, Stephanie, I sometimes think about that night in your bedroom.”
“M-me too,” I replied, pulse racing from the thrill of her soft foot on my thigh.
“I think about how exciting it was to almost get caught by your mother. Can you imagine what she would have said?” she asked with a smirk.
“It would have made your next barbecue quite uncomfortable,” I quipped and we both giggled then fell silent, both lost in the memory of the kinky encounter.
Her face suddenly lit up with a wicked gleam and I found myself simultaneously dreading and craving her next words.
“You know,” she purred, “I’ve never fucked in a public restroom. Have you, Stephanie?”
I made a show of mock contemplation, then answered, “No, I don’t believe I have.”
She gazed at her drink again, her face adopting an innocent expression that fired my mind with lustful thoughts. “Would you… would you like to?” she whispered.
I nodded, unable to speak, mind reeling with anticipation.
We both stood simultaneously and grabbed our purses, then hurried hand in hand across the bar to the restrooms. We were barely two steps into the clinical and clean bathroom when Helen had her hands on me. She had a frantic look in her eyes and was breathing heavily. She grabbed at my hips and spun me round, pulling my body close to hers and sealing her mouth on mine with a rough kiss. Our lips slid together, lipstick smearing across our skin, an irrelevant facet of our heated passion.
>
As we kissed, she groped at me, hands roaming over the tight material of my dress to my ass where she squeezed me roughly. I responded by gripping her neck and plunging my other hand under her blouse to grope at her tits. It was electric, we were driven by pure primal lusts now. Not a coy flirtation or gentle seduction, our intentions were plain and undisguised as we pawed at each others eager bodies.
We stumbled backwards as one, falling into one of the stalls, lips still locked together, tongues frantically rolling together. Helen pushed the door closed behind us and engaged the lock. From the nexus of my passion, the calm eye at the center of the storm that raged through my body, my rational mind observed that all of our encounters so far had begun with Helen closing a door to seal us away from public view. Ironic, I thought, that the closing of a door could lead to the opening of so many more. The fleeting thought fled from my mind as Helen once more locked her mouth on mine and forced her tongue between my yielding lips.
We wrestled together for long minutes, both desperate to taste the other in every way possible. Then Helen broke off the kiss and fell to her knees, pushing me against the side of the stall. I gasped as she roughly pulled my dress up my legs and over my hips, revealing the damp lace panties that I wore. She looked up at me and grinned as she ran her fingertips across the delicate material. “You’re so wet,” she whispered, not attempting to conceal her approval. Then with a single movement, she pulled my panties down and dropped them around my ankles.
I looked down at her, urging her onto my pussy with my mind, but she moved slowly, teasing my lips with her fingertips and prolonging the moment. I was breathing heavily, my heart was racing in my chest and my mind was reeling with the heat of this forbidden encounter. All I wanted was for Helen to take me in her mouth and I would stop at nothing to get it. Without thinking, I grabbed her hair and pulled her forward, landing her mouth firmly on my pussy and holding her there.
She didn’t attempt to resist and plunged her tongue forward onto my waiting clitoris without hesitation. I writhed against the wall, sliding my back up and down as she lapped at my warm folds, moaning with the pure ecstasy of it. Her tongue felt like fire on my sensitive skin, sending waves of warmth through my pussy into my stomach and out into my arms and legs. These rhythmic pulses of pure pleasure thrilled me and send my mind into the stratosphere. I tightened my grip on her as I felt my climax approaching. She responded by ramming two fingers into my tight hole and swirling them in and out in time with the motion of her relentless tongue.
This new stimulation was too much for me and the dam broke. A torrential deluge of utter pleasure burst forth and surged down the valley of my body, an unstoppable flood of lust and desire that swept away all before it. My body convulsed as the orgasm took me and I pressed back against the side of the stall. My legs tensed and my feet tightened, pushing me up as I rose on my toes. I threw my head back and barely managed to contain a scream as I reached the peak of my climax. Helen gripped me around my hips, keeping her mouth on my pussy as I came as she rode the wave of my satisfaction.
And then it was over. My tired legs gave out and my body slid to the floor of the stall beside Helen. I summoned my strength and took her head in my hands, gripping her around her ears and pulled our mouths together to resume our passionate kiss. We writhed on the floor of the toilet stall, lost in the moment and fueled by our desires.
I pulled back, and glanced around. The confined space of the stall made it difficult to maneuver but I formulated a plan. I reached behind and pulled the toilet seat down and indicated that Helen should sit on there. She dutifully obeyed and I knelt at her feet. With trembling hands, I tore at the button of her trousers and pulled them down her legs. She raised her ass obligingly, eager to let me access her most private region. I removed her heels and pulled the pants over her feet, tossing them over my shoulder with scarcely a thought. I turned back to Helen and noticed that she wasn’t wearing panties. I glanced at her, a mock look of disapproval on my face. She meekly sucked at her index finger with a look of innocent shame.
I looked hungrily at her pussy, dripping wet and exposed before me. Grabbing her ankles, I pulled her body forward and swung her legs over my shoulders to rest her feet on my back and positioned my head above her waiting lips. I ignored her pleading moans and took a moment to study her magnificent pussy. It felt good to revisit the scene of my first girl fuck, the familiar terrain of her neat lips etched into my memory by countless replays in my hungry mind.
The time for waiting was over and I plunged my head forward and took her labia in my mouth, greedily sucking her inside myself and prodding her exposed clitoris with my tongue. I’d learned a trick or two since our last encounter and readily applied my new skills to my old love. She responded instantly, reaching behind herself to grab at the toilet cistern as though she feared she might fall. She moaned her enthusiasm as I swept my tongue back and forth across her quivering quim and I redoubled my efforts. I felt her thighs tighten around my head, pulling me inwards and locking me in place. Escape was now impossible, I was prisoner in this damp jail. Yet escape was the furthest thing from my mind, and I embraced my new captivity, plunging my tongue deeper into her and thrilling at the response this elicited.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom swung open and I heard a pair of giggling women enter. They chattered together at a frantic pace and I paused on Helen’s pussy. My tongue froze in place on her clitoris and I waited, heart hammering in my chest. I glanced up at Helen and saw her eyes were wide with fear. Yet there was something else, a wicked look of enjoyment, the thrill of discovery delighted her apparently and she was getting to live out her fantasy.
As the two interlopers went about their business, I slowly moved my tongue across Helen’s clit, an agonising tease that caused her face to clench in shock. I reversed my stroke and licked harder this time, applying pressure with the flat of my tongue. Helen’s hand went to her mouth and she bit down on her knuckle to suppress a moan.
I heard the door to the stall next door swing shut as one of the women occupied it, and the distinct sound of the toilet being used. This should have disgusted me, but I was so focused on teasing Helen that it seemed to not matter. All that mattered was that we were feet away from another person who knew nothing of our shared pleasure. I took Helen’s lips in my mouth and sucked at her clit. Helen didn’t manage to catch herself this time and exhaled suddenly as a wave of pleasure rippled up her body.
“Did you say something hon?” a voice from the stall next door said.
“Not me Stacy. How much have you had to drink?” the other girl laughed.
The peeing girl finished her business and flushed the toilet. I remained still on Helen’s pussy, enjoying the warmth of her wetness and the intoxicating aroma of her arousal but not wanting to chance being caught again.
Agonizing minutes later, the bathroom door swung shut and we were finally alone. Without hesitation, I plunged forward again. Her pussy was warm now, burning with her desire and dripping with the juice of her lust. I lapped at her, eager to taste everything that she had to offer. She gripped my head and pushed me forward, locking me in position once again.
I sensed that she was close and I quickened my tongue, moving in fast swirls around her clit and pressing harder and harder with every passing moment. Her breathing become fast and regular, short pants that she didn’t attempt to conceal. I glanced up and found her eyes squeezed shut and her head pressed back against the far wall.
The tempo of her moans rose as her arousal gathered pace and suddenly they stopped. Her body tensed and I looked up to see her mouth open in a frozen breath and the muscles in her neck strained and visible. Her legs tightened and her heels dug into my back, but I tolerated the discomfort as I rode her orgasm with her. Her whole body shook with the convulsion of her climax and she shuddered uncontrollably. Then suddenly, she went limp and slid forwards on the toilet. I sat back and admired her, body spent and exhausted, tired pussy spread out before me, the delightful pro
duct of my new skills.
Epilogue
As the fires of our lust died down, we straightened ourselves up and returned to the bar. Our tryst had softened the initial awkwardness and the rest of the night was spent lost in our mutual attraction. As the bartender signalled that it was time to close, we finished our drinks and caught a taxi to Helen’s hotel where we spent long hours wrapped in the warmth of each other, lazily exploring our bodies and delighting in the pleasure of desire.
In the morning, I left early, tired but floating on a cloud of distracted satisfaction. We agreed to meet up whenever Helen was in the city, which turned out to be quite often. Her work with local charities brought her here at least once a month. She told me that her she and her husband had an open relationship, that she knew about his affairs when he was away with work and that he knew about her sapphic appetites. The arrangement seemed to work for them, though I confess to a small amount of jealousy at the idea of Helen being with other people.
I returned to my college life, plunging myself back into my voyage of self-discovery with renewed vigor. Yet no matter how many girls I bedded, no matter how many pussies I ate, nothing compared to my first taste of another woman. Helen Johanson had opened my mind to a new life, she’d exposed me to lusts and desires that I didn’t know I had, but which had burned beneath my consciousness for my entire life. I loved her for this and cherished the memories of that sultry summer and our sordid encounters for the rest of my life, long after Helen and I had fallen out of touch.
THE END
Three Futanari Wishes
by Ella Ford
Chapter 1 - First Wish
It was Saturday night and I was horny as hell. I was alone in my apartment wearing comfortable PJs and looking like a million dollars of crap. My only prospect for excitement that night was a DVD boxset and maybe an indulgent dive into a gallon of ice cream. Kill me, I thought.
