The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Tag: Kissing (Page 1 of 7)

One For Each Year

4 March 2026 / / 1 Comment

I can’t quite believe my husband and I have been together for 14 years. And in those very early days, he groped my tits as if he owned them, he groped my ass like he’d never groped another, he filled my cunt over and over with hard, girthy cock and thick, sticky cum. And I loved it. I was his. I wanted him to take me over and over. And he did. Two and three times a day he fucked me, my cunt got very used to being filled very quickly.

My first period came, and far from slowing down or stopping fucking me because of it, he fucked me more. I always craved sex during my period and he was the first man to oblige. And we barely cleaned up from one lot before he was in me again, my bloody cunt being a magnet for his hard cock. And each time he did it, it felt that he took me again. His blood-soaked cock was in me, no matter what, taking me no matter what. I loved it. I was still his.

And then my cunt got a little uncomfortable. It needed some rest. And so, desperate for him to continue taking me over and over, I offered him my asshole. And he was kind and gentle and understanding, and well versed with fucking assholes, so even the first time, he started slow, but grew to be huge and strong with his thrusts. I didn’t like anal before, but with him, my asshole wanted to be taken, just as much as my cunt did, and I loved it. I was even more his.

Around the same time as the fourteenth anniversary of us being together, it was also the eighth anniversary of this blog. I thought I’d get bored of blogging by now. I thought no one would read it. I thought no one would like it. None of those turned out to be true. All the writing, all the memories. I’m incredibly horny all the time. My cunt is excited all the time. It wants to be filled all the time. Memory is powerful. My cunt is needy.

Also around the same time, it is the second anniversary of our free-use. I thought we’d get bored of that too, bored of being interrupted, tired of being used. I thought our cunts and asses would be worse for wear for all the sex. I thought someone would drop out or it would fold. None of those turned out to be true either. Over time, we grew to need more cock, we grew to need more use. My cunt is needier than ever.

Even an eight person gang bang didn’t sate it. It’s lust to be taken, it’s lust to be filled was growing more and more, and my asshole wasn’t far behind.

Ever since my husband and I got together, he liked marking and celebrating anniversaries, even sexualising anniversaries that weren’t sexual in themselves. He liked doing things to take me over and over again. I had a lust for a filled cunt, for a stretched asshole. And he always made anniversaries count.

The anniversary of us getting together is always celebrated on our own, just the two of us, emphasising our closeness and bond. But since our tenth anniversary of being together, he’s required me to orgasm the same number of times as the anniversary. This year, fourteen. He’s got 24 hours, but there’s just him. We both have to take the day off work. It is so tiring. Satisfying, but tiring.

He uses a spreader bar to keep my legs spread, to keep my cunt available to his hand, to his mouth, to his cock. My cunt barely has time to recover from cumming before he starts again. It gets so sensitive. My cunt needs him to stop, is crying out for him to stop. He knows the fight I have between cunt and brain. And he knows the brain will win. The cunt will have to put up with it. The cunt craves it really. I have orgasms to have. It has no choice.

And those orgasms arrive, as sure as night follows day. He forces my cunt through its refusal, til that orgasm builds again, til my cunt spasms again, gets wet again, sometimes even squirts. It gets milked again for every drop of girl cum, every drop of squirt.

It’s relentless. He’s relentless. I love relentless. My cunt loves it somewhat less. Still, it doesn’t have much choice.

And this year, we mirrored that first evening when we got together. We went out for an Indian (although this time, I had his cum dripping out of my cunt all the time we were eating). We watched a comedy DVD (the same one as fourteen years ago, although this time, he played with my cunt, he wanked me the entire time we were watching it).

Then we kissed, properly snogged. Although this time, the snogs were accompanied by hard wanking. I came mid snog. One of the fourteen. He didn’t stop snogging me. Or wanking me. I was his. He was doing as he wanted. And my body loved it. My cunt loved it.

Right throughout the day, more often than not, my cunt was filled. Cock when it was able, fingers or dildos when it wasn’t. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t think. I was just a creator of wetness in his hands. I had no will. I just did as he wanted. My cunt just did what it was told.

I can’t explain how overwhelming it was, how much he just played my body like an instrument, over and over on a whim. It’s almost like he was reminding me every second that I used to think I was a one and done girl, reminding me that he made me this way, made me crave his cock, made me cum over and over. I felt like I was just about hanging on, doing what he wanted, proving again that I was his.

I had lost track of where I was, what my cumming tally was. I didn’t have to worry. I knew he’d get me the fourteen. But today was all consuming, today was wanking for wanking’s sake, today was planned to keep me sexually on the edge for the entire day. And my body had no choice. My brain wasn’t going to make him stop, he wasn’t going to stop.

As my cunt came again, just by his fingers this time, he shot me a loving smile, before ploughing four fingers into my cunt again, vigorous, powerful. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, crying out as he milked my tired and overused cunt. I heard a “Just one more, slut” from his soothing voice, my cunt’s ordeal was nearly over.

He briefly stopped whilst he pulled me onto his lap, his erect cock impaling my already lubed asshole as I sat, his hands reaching round my body to both continue the four finger cunt fuck and grope and paw at my already tender tits.

The filth being spoken into my ear, the aching and throbbing of my tits, my asshole being stretched by his still enormous cock, his four fingers filling my cunt and abusing my clit as they fucked it. It overwhelmed me yet again, and I came, hard, extended, not even allowed to finish that orgasm until his fingers decided. He dragged it out. As I stopped cumming, I came up for air.

It wasn’t just fourteen orgasms, it was almost the entire day of being masturbated, groped, tits manhandled, cock in all three holes (often with neither of us cumming, just for the penetration). I couldn’t settle, couldn’t relax even for a second. I was kept on that sexual high all day, I was kept on a submissive high all day (even in the restaurant, he managed it, not least through the cum trickling out of my cunt all the time I was there, my blouse being slightly more open than I’d ideally have liked and the fact that I had a sizeable, slightly uncomfortable butt plug in). I was even penetrated whilst I prepared the other meals of the day. There was literally no rest.

And my poor nipples were punished early on. Manuscript clips, foldback clips, squashing each nipple, the pain of them being applied, fading to a dull throbbing pain, and then the pain of them being removed and the blood rushing back into them. And all the time I endured that, he was masturbating me, almost trying to wipe away the pain with ecstasy from my cunt. Meticulous. Loving. Endurance.

I lost track of time right throughout the day. I lost track of orgasms after the first couple too. The intensity was like nothing he’s ever done. So completely overwhelming. I felt I was fighting just to remain present in the moment, and sometimes I didn’t succeed. Sometimes I drifted away, only to be brought back by an orgasm.

And once I’d had fourteen, and they were fourteen hard orgasms too, once the time slipped past midnight, he put me to bed, intending me to be alone to recover. I cried. I didn’t want him to leave me. So intense had the day been that I wasn’t emotionally able to be alone.

So instead, he spooned me, gripping on to a tit as he often does. It was familiar. It was comforting. It was what I needed. I finally slept, happy, sated, owned, his.

His Late Night Panties Girl (Part One)

7 February 2026 / / 4 Comments

Louise was worried. My now husband, the man who had fucked her last night, fucked her better than anyone before him ever had, the man who she had chatted with online every night for months, wasn’t online tonight. She was worried he’d decided he didn’t want her to talk to him, didn’t want her to fuck him. With sex so great, she wasn’t having that.

In stark contrast to the previous night, she had taken hours getting ready. The perfect clothes (just a touch slutty), the perfect hair (loose, but clipped out of the way so it wouldn’t brush her face as she fucked), the perfect make up (light touch), not a hair out of place anywhere (she had got her best friend to shave her cunt and ass, making it even smoother than last night). She had a cleavagey bra, hold up stockings and tiny red panties, pre-used off her floor. She thought the panties would really underline why she was there, and would look really nice on his floor instead. She sniffed them before settling on them: they had a slight fragrance of her cunt, despite not being worn for some time. The smell of her own cunt turned her on. Wasn’t it normally men that got turned on by the smell of a juicy cunt? Anyway, she hoped he would appreciate the sheer tininess of them, and given how excited she was, she thought they would have a stronger fragrance by the time he got to handle them, and she hoped he’d love it.

She strode purposefully across the campus to his college, her cunt moistening as she got closer to his college, closer to his cock. But she forgot it was after midnight, and the college was closed, access only for residents via the porters, and she wasn’t a resident.

The porter wouldn’t let her in and definitely wouldn’t tell her which room my now husband was in. She did briefly consider offering him a blow job to get the info, but soon ruled that out. There was only one cock she was getting in her mouth, and it wasn’t a porter’s.

And then she saw him, my now husband, her chosen fuck, walking towards his college at pace. In the dim light of the streetlamps, she saw his face light up when he saw her. He came up to her, put his arm round her waist with his hand grabbing a handful of ass, and pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth. She kissed back, her tongue jousting with his. They kissed for a few minutes, before breaking and after he invited her in, they retreated into his college room, past the porter she didn’t need to blow, and past a row of girls on their knees giving blow jobs to a lucky row of male students sitting on a bench seat on the landing. She briefly thought about them joining the end of the row, but decided that was for another night – tonight, she wanted to be more private.

His room was tidier than hers, and she said so, although that was somewhat of a low bar. With a glint in her eye, she told him she thought there was something missing though. He looked confused, confusion that turned into smirking as she put her hands up either side of her skirt, removed her tiny red panties (whilst not flashing her cunt at him), and with an evil glint in her eye, she ceremoniously with a flourish dropped them on his floor, uttering how his room was now much better. He had a big smile she thought was infectious. This was such a good idea.

She sat on the bed next to him, snuggled up, telling him how she was worried he wasn’t online. She was heartened to hear the reason. He was with Kate, agreeing with her that they wouldn’t fuck in the future now that she had her boyfriend and he had Louise who he wanted to fuck a load more. The man snuggled up to Louise told her he’d freed himself up to fuck her over and over. If she wanted it.

Louise tried to act cool. But she wasn’t. She was overjoyed, her cunt craving his cock and his tongue. She really wanted it. Of course she fucking wanted it.

Losing her cool cover, she blurted out that she wanted fucking every single day. She wanted him cumming inside her every single day. And as late at night was their time, she thought they should fuck late at night. And then first thing in the morning after they wake up together. And then in a gap between lectures. She told him how she wanted to smell of sex in lectures, to have a messy cummy cunt in lectures. She told him she was his, her body was his, her cunt and tits were his, her orgasms were his, her panties were his, as long as he kept fucking her, as long as he kept her aroused, as long as he kept making her cum. She needed a lot of servicing, her cunt needed so much work, it was insatiable. She’d clearly thought about this more than he had. His plan was to just fuck her as often as he could, as many times a day as he could, but he realised she wanted more, that she needed more. He’d unleashed this sexual beast, this orgasming slut who liked her tits manhandled, her ass gripped, her cunt filled over and over. He’d unleashed that, their limited time together making it all the more frenzied, and he was determined to service her how she needed. He wanted that. She needed that.

But he was honest with her: he had just fucked Kate, a final goodbye fuck. Louise went from a bit pouty to very mischievous. Having told her that his cock had another fuck in it, and as it would be a second fuck, it would be long and hard, it dawned on her that his cock would taste of Kate’s cunt juices, and she found herself bizarrely wanting to taste Kate.

Louise grabbed at his cock through his trousers and squeezed and rubbed it a little. It started to spring into life. She undid his belt and button and dropped his trousers to the floor, his boxers following almost immediately. Then, she sat his on the bed, pushed his legs wide and dropped to her knees between his legs. Remembering what he told her about blow jobs, she pulled his tits up out of the bra and dress, using the bra to hold her tits up, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard.

Then, she put his cock to her lips, opening them slightly and running her tongue round his glans. Louise could definitely taste Kate, and she loved her taste. Whilst systematically licking and sucking every molecule of Kate’s taste off his cock, Louise found herself wondering what her cunt tasted like to lick out, and realising why men loved licking women out so much. She wasn’t bi or anything, but did find herself wanting to lick Kate’s cunt. She could dream.

She did dream as she finished working his cock with her mouth and tongue, but his ever-hardening cock woke her up out of the daydream, and jolted her into starting her plan. Operation Stake Her Claim.

She got up off the bed, opened her bag and pulled out a scrunched-up pair of white lace panties and pulled them on, again, not showing him her cunt as she did it. He was a little bemused, but his cock stayed rock solid. Why remove one pair and replace them with another?

These ones she had worn for most of the day, and had wanked herself in them a number of times during the day, dreaming of fucking him again. They were damp, ripe, and very fragrant. She hoped he’d smell how ripe they were, she hoped he’d realise how much she’d wanked into them, she hoped he’d breathe in her intoxicating aroma tonight and in the future. It was all him. She’d wanked over and over because of him.

You see, she had had a really strange idea before she left her room, an idea to put her stamp on his room, to put her claim on him, and it involved her panties. Those dirty panties on her floor. She thought if she wore them again (unwashed obviously – sod that for a lark) and deposited them on his floor, he’d have her dirty panties all the time, something to smell to remind him of her and so be horny all the time, ready to fuck her all the time.

She didn’t really know what she was doing, or why? What made her want to give him worn panties? I mean she loved her panties and she wanted him to love her panties too. She felt it connected her with him, and more than anything, for the time they had left, she wanted to be connected with him.

Although she couldn’t get the thought of tasting Kate’s cunt out of her head, and she didn’t want the second-hand taste of it out of her mouth. She’d never done anything with a woman, but she loved the taste, the idea. Perhaps there was chance of a taste of juicy cunt in the mix.

The Look In Her Eyes (Part Three)

20 December 2025 / / 0 Comments

Lisa held my cunt lips open, making my cunt and clit feel a cool breeze. She had three fingers going into my cunt, full length strokes rubbing the underside of my clit, and she was speeding up very gradually.

My hips were moving, showing her I was heading towards cumming. Keen to make me cum, she moved her thumb, so that each time her three fingers drove into my cunt, her thumb rubbed and squashed my clit. My moaning went up a notch, my orgasm built quickly, and Lisa was focussed, but smug.

And very soon, my orgasm washed over me. She stopped with her fingers, then did group of three drives in and out (and three clit rubs). The effect was to milk my orgasm, extend me cumming, make me shake under her control. And then just as my orgasm subsided, she began with three fingers and her thumb attacking my clit again. She didn’t give me even a moment’s rest, after dragging my orgasm out of me and extending it for as long as she could.

I both desperately wanted her to stop (because everything was so sensitive) and yet I really didn’t want it to stop, as I didn’t want her to have any excuse not to do this again. I gritted my teeth, with a determination she could see. Her finger fucking was getting quicker now, my whole cunt was screaming stop, and yet I overrode it, and magically, it suddenly stopped feeling sensitive and started feeling wonderful again. The speed with which she was finger fucking me could only be described as frantic, and yet it was building slowly. My cunt was making the bitch work for it.

But eventually, the speed built up there and suddenly, and almost a shock to me, I came, very very hard. She did the three shudders move again, extending my orgasm, but this time, once I’d finished cumming, she stopped.

I was totally exhausted and snuggled into her, her putting the fingers she worked my cunt with to my mouth, feeding me my own juices.

And then, as we went to sleep in each other’s arms, we each put a hand to the other’s cunt, a couple of fingers inserted in each one, not moving, but connecting.

We only slept for an hour. It was afternoon after all. When we awoke, our fingers were still inserted in each other’s cunt. Looking into each other’s eyes, we both had the same idea and started gently masturbating each other. Then we talked. She was still here for a few months. She wanted to cram in as much fucking as possible, create as many memories as possible. I added make each other cum as much as possible, as hard as possible. We both agreed.

And with that, she accelerated the speed of her fingers working my cunt. She wasn’t even touching my clit and I felt those feelings start to build in my cunt. I have to admit I stopped working hers. I was too overwhelmed by what she was doing to my cunt to be able keep a rhythm on hers. Her cunt’s time would come, it would cum.

Her finger fucking got me to the point where I felt I would need to start fighting the orgasm, and then she abruptly stopped, moved her cunt away from my stationary hand repositioned herself so that her mouth was over my cunt. She leant in, parted my cunt lips with a couple of fingers and gently kissed my clit. Remarking that she hoped my cunt tasted as good as it smells, she dived in, systematically working every millimetre of the outer flaps, my clit, and as far as she could reach inside with her tongue. She was meticulous, deliberate, focussed, and she kept me on heat, kept me close to orgasm but not stepping even an inch closer, almost edging me with her tongue. She said my cunt was delicious, but her edging of it was even more delicious. Clearly, she was in no hurry to make me cum, and what she was doing felt amazing, so neither was I.

I think her tongue was tiring, so she adjusted her position (all whilst maintaining its contact with my cunt) to one that allowed her to get a couple of fingers deep inside my cunt, whilst her tongue focussed exclusively on my clit, encircling it, swirling it, squashing it. It was a hard, fast finger fuck, which combined with her attack on my sensitive clit, got me cumming in only a few minutes. My body, shook, clenched and folded as I came, her fingers once again doing the three shudders move to pull every last second of orgasm out of me. She did it again, making me cum to her demand.

It was her turn next, but I needed some cuddle time to recover. I lay in her arms, head nuzzling a 36H tit, fingers gently stroking her cunt folds. It sounded like she was purring, so I carried that on for quite a while.

When I was ready to fuck her again, I lifted my head and rolled her over. I pulled apart her ass cheeks and started licking up and down her ass crack, focussing on her ass pucker each time I passed over, pushing against it with my tongue each and every time. She was making pleasurable moans on every ass pucker lick. Keen to taste her cunt juices, I licked down past her ass crack and over her perineum to the very lower edge of her cunt, then back up to her asshole. Each time I got close to her cunt, her body moved to try to get me to touch it, so I focussed on the perineum to asshole licks for a short while, tantalising her, teasing her, building her anticipation to that tongue touching her cunt.

When I thought she had been teased enough, I let go of her ass cheeks, put a pillow next to her ass and then rolled her over, spreading her legs wide as I did so. I knelt back down between her legs and my tongue touched that same spot at the very bottom of her cunt, and trailed back down to her ass cheeks, burrowing a little between them, and then back to her cunt. I repeated that a few times, with her body still trying to make my tongue contact her cunt.

And then one time, without warning, my tongue carried on to her cunt, and all the way up her folds to her clit. She was cooing now, as I went all the way back to her ass cheeks a couple of times before settling on her cunt, up and down her lips, just flicking over her clit as my tongue changed direction, working between and round her folds, dipping into her cunt sometimes, then focussing on her clit at others. I held on to her hips to stop her wriggling, to stop her escaping the focus of my tongue on her cunt, her muskiness increasing as she got more aroused, the taste only making me lick harder, and the harder I licked, the longer and louder her moans got. I knew she was close, but didn’t want to rush, just keeping that laser like focus on her cunt and clit, switching between the two as her hips tried harder to move against my hands holding her down.

And then she came. I flicked round her clit in shudders, milking her orgasm, my face covered in her girl cum. And when she stopped, I moved my face to hers and she licked her cum off it. The poor girl was exhausted. I did that, and was all of a sudden looking forward to the next few months.

The Look In Her Eyes (Part Two)

14 December 2025 / / 0 Comments

I was longing to get access to Lisa’s cunt, having realised I had something for her years ago but didn’t do anything about it at the time. But now, for the first time, we had kissed and she had sucked my nipples, and in returning the favour, I had remembered she said that she orgasmed harder having her nipples twisted and pulled. So, I did that, and her body responded. But I needed her cunt and whispered to her so get me access to it.

Her arms went down to her tiny denim shorts and began scrabbling with the button, with all the precision of a panicking slut on heat. I heard the zip get pulled down and then her hands moved away from her crotch.

Sitting slightly to her right, I put my right hand to her belly and then slid it down her skin to the open waistband and burrowed my fingers inside her panties. I felt my middle finger touch her clit, which made her jump a little. I pulled my hand back and then put my other hand round her body onto the top of her ass, to hold her in position as I touched her clit again. Her body tried to jump but got nowhere.

I started rubbing her cunt from above, my three fingers running all down the length of her cunt lips, the middle one just slightly penetrating her on the way up and down; barely anything, but I could feel her moistness. I was rhythmic, slow, deliberate, and I had her hips moving a little in time with my fingers. Her breathing was short and sometimes it caught in her throat.

Her body was no longer trying to escape my fingers, so my hand on her ass stared groping and pawing at her covered ass, all the time keeping perfect rhythm with my fingers. Then, without stopping either hand movement, I leant in to get a nipple. It was just out of reach, but realising what I wanted, Lisa picked up her tit and held it for my mouth. I touched her nipple again with my tongue, her nipple was rock solid, much to my joy. I imagined it was her clit, and swirled my tongue round it and over it, just like I used to with Melissa.

With three points of contact, I kept this up for a while, until I could feel Lisa start to tense up a little. I lightly chewed on her nipple, until she just released it from her hand, ripping it away from my mouth. She put her hands to the sofa either side of her to brace herself, and so I moved my hand from her ass to her clit, pulling, rubbing and eventually twisting it as she really tensed up. Her noise intensified as her back started to arch, and she made those panty moans and bent forward as she started to cum.

I took both hands away from her cunt, put one to each nipple and repeated the brutal twisting thing, which made her cry out and double over harder. After only a few seconds, I put my hand back down her shorts, into her panties to her cunt and started finger fucking her, three or four fucks and then pausing, as she juddered from her orgasm.

And when she stopped juddering, I put my arms round her, pulled her to my body and just cuddled her as she recovered. I was pleased with how that orgasm went. She now knows I can make a girl cum.

We were cuddling there for ages, but eventually, the embrace broken and she just looked at me, her eyes full of wonder, her mouth simply saying “Wow” before starting to kiss me again, a tit-clashing tonguey kiss that went on for ages, the second part of which was accompanied by her hand working its way under my skirt and just rubbing my cunt lips and clit through my panties, slow, deliberate, perfection for the moment.

I think she sensed I wasn’t in any rush. She could feel from the dampness that was permeating my panties that I was enjoying this, that I was excited by this. When she felt that my panties were acceptably wet, she whispered that she needed to see my damp panties, putting her other hand to the zip at the back of my skirt and pulling it down. Not wanting to break contact with her fingers on my cunt, I lifted my hip enough and tugged at my skirt to release it from my ass.

But she did break contact with her fingers to pull my skirt completely down depositing it in a heap on the floor. She then sat admiring the way my panties were sculpted to the shape on my cunt. She said it looked so fucking sexy. She didn’t leave my cunt too long without finger attention though, rubbing it in patterns, with only every fifth rub going over my panty covered clit.

My cunt was so slick, my panties literally stuck to me by my own juices. She leant in and kissed my panty-covered clit, which was getting bigger and harder all the time. As she moved her head away again, she closed her eyes and inhaled the pungent fragrance of my cunt.

Commenting that it smelt divine, she put a hand to each side of my panties and pulled them free, the back coming easily away from my ass, the front needing to be peeled off my cunt. With one hand, she recommenced the finger rubbing of my sticky cunt, with the other, she held my panties to her nose to smell, and then later to her mouth, where she licked my sticky juices off the inside of my panties. I almost came from the rubbing and how much she was enjoying my juices, but she slowed down her finger rubbing, easing me back off the orgasm, with a look that said “Not yet”.

She leant in to kiss me again, her mouth tasting of my cunt, her fingers still rhythmically ploughing their furrow. When she backed off from the kiss, my lips moved to follow, but she stopped me moving, and instead lowered her head to my tits, taking my right nipple in her mouth and working it with her tongue, sucking, rolling her tongue round it, occasionally clamping down with her teeth. That tit work was going straight to my clit, which was already throbbing and was getting worse with each squeeze of her teeth.

And once she’d given my nipples a good work over, she adjusted her position slightly, both hands to my cunt and changed what she was doing. The hand that had been working my tits simply parted my cunt lips, making my pink juicy hole and clit visible, making them feel cold from the gentle breeze in the room. The hand that had been working my lips was then used to penetrate me, first with two fingers, and then with three. Long slow deliberate strokes, rubbing the underside of my clit every time, and those slow strokes speeding up very gradually. She was having an effect, my hips were rocking, she had me near cumming. She was enjoying this.

The Look In Her Eyes (Part One)

7 December 2025 / / 1 Comment

When I left university, I was totally bereft at leaving Melissa. I was heartbroken, as I felt this was the first time I was properly in love, and yes, it was with a woman. I couldn’t tell many people why I was so down as it may well have made it back to my mother, and that would not have been good. Her daughter being a dyke – I’d have never heard the end of it. So, I had to suffer alone and in silence.

But there was one person that noticed. I had been friendly with her at college and had fond memories of getting drunk in fields of a Saturday afternoon, or in the local woods on a Friday. In fact, most of my memories with her to that point involved getting pissed. But they were all good memories.

Her name was Lisa and she contrived a way to get me away from the group. When she said what she had observed, I burst into tears and spilled my guts, all of it, the sex, the pissing, the obscene outfits, the bungee runs, and yes, the love. I was too emotional and heartbroken to see the look in her eyes at the time, but she hugged me and comforted me and did her best to calm me. Given I wasn’t really that close to her, it was astounding.

And she stayed my counsel for a few weeks, just helping me to move on. She was a fabulous friend.

And then, one day, I actually saw the look in her eyes, and it confused me, because that look wasn’t friendship or concern. I’d seen it before. That look was love. Lisa had a look of love in her eyes.

Now this was particularly confusing, as I had a bit of a thing for Lisa about three years previously. I think this was before either of us realised we were interested in women. But I admired her as a free spirit – she was everything I wanted to be, and I was a fair bit in love with her. There was a time when I really wanted to snog her, but I didn’t even think she noticed me.

But that look didn’t come out of nowhere. I realised that she had it in her eyes that first evening after I got back. Did that mean she loved me a bit from before I went to university? You can see why I was confused.

And now, what did I do about it? Because I knew she was leaving soon too. For the other side of the world and a new life. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about to be long term.

But the train of thought did briefly snap my brain out of its Melissa-induced slump. Lisa’s departure was still a few months away yet, and there was plenty of time for some fun. I still wanted to kiss her – I always had and now she had worked out she was only into women, and she was single. And the big difference was, thanks to everything Melissa and I learned together, I knew how to fuck a woman, knew how to give her proper hard orgasms. But even more importantly, there is a chance to create a bond before she goes away.

Lisa had no idea what was in my head. She just stroked my hair as she had often done over the last few weeks, trying to be comforting. It gave me a short time to think. I spent part of last year regretting not doing anything with Lisa (before Melissa came along) – I wasn’t about to spend time later regretting not doing something with Lisa before she switched continents.

So, when she stopped stroking my hair and was looking at me with kind and loving eyes, I just leaned in and very gently kissed her lips, almost the lightest touch I could manage. As I leant back, I could almost see the fear in her eyes, but I reassured her that I had wanted to do that for three years and that, despite how I’d been feeling of late, I knew what I was doing.

She weighed it up briefly, but she leaned in and kissed me, a proper kiss and in a matter of moments, our tongues slipped between our lips and touched for the first time. I felt her hands on my body as she pulled me closer, and I grabbed on to her. And we just kissed and kissed. For ages. Clothed tits squashing against each other.

After we broke the kiss, we sat opposite each other and just looked at each other and held hands. It was almost as if we couldn’t work out what to do next. We clearly both had the same idea, as when we let go of each other’s hands, they clashed on the way to each other’s blouse buttons. That was the laugh we needed to take away the tension. We just took our own blouses and bras off, and then returned to kissing each other, this time, our bare tits squashing against each other. Her tits weren’t small either, so there was plenty to squash, and neither of us was in any rush to break off our kissing.

But, eventually. break off we did, as I became acutely aware that I didn’t want to wear my tongue out jousting with hers. I had plans that I needed my tongue for. But Lisa had plans too, and leant in towards me, grabbing a tit in each hand and starting to work on my nipples, kissing, sucking, licking, and nibbling on them, swapping between them at will. It just felt amazing having her working my tits. I wanted to do the same to hers, but I didn’t want her to stop.

But eventually she did, and she straightened up to kiss me, leaving my very wet nipples to the cold air, making them go immediately hard. She saw and smiled.

I was smiling too, because from somewhere in the depths of my memory, I pulled out some gold about Lisa that she had said in some drunken truth or dare type game. She had said that if her nipples get pulled and twisted quite viciously, she orgasms much harder than without. Given I wanted to make her really want to do this, to make her want to fuck me over and over, I decided to test her out.

So, I leant in to kiss her a little, before bending over to start sucking one of her nipples, only without warning, I pulled and twisted at the nipple I wasn’t licking and sucking. I heard her breathing get harder as I twisted that little bit harder. Her nipples were loving it, getting so hard so quickly and the soft cooing noises she was making showed she liked it too. I knew I’d have her cumming in no time, but I had to be patient to build her up to a massive orgasm.

After a decent time of sucking and switching, I released whatever nipple that was in my mouth and grabbed both each with a thumb and forefinger and twisted them quite viciously in opposite directions. Her body arched towards me; her nipples were so large. I twisted them back to their proper position, then viciously twisted them the other way, making her body arch again.

I started rolling her nipples between my fingers, squeezing them to flatten them as I did so, and I leant in, briefly kissed her, and then whispered in her ear “Get me access to that cunt.”

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