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

Tag: #Melissa (Page 1 of 2)

The Leavers Ball (Part Two)

Melissa and I were spending our last evening together at the university’s leavers’ ball, and we found ourselves in a room full of people fucking. We were focussing now on the all-women couples. For two of those couples, one woman was bent over the table, whilst the other licked at her asshole and down to her cunt, fingering the cunt and working it to make the other woman cum.

One couple of women were splayed out sitting on the desk, rubbing cunts together and using tits to maintain bodily control of their fuckmate. Their movements were mesmerising: rhythmic grinding, making each other make noise and bodily movements that Melissa and I never had. When we tried that, it was nice, it was arousing, but it never made us cum. Their movements made them cum, and hard.

The final couple of women were taking part in an activity that I knew would make us cum. One of them was just bent over a desk, the other one had her hands between the first’s legs and was quite viciously masturbating her, using a diamond of four fingers to penetrate the eager cunt in front of her, a vigorous and forceful fucking motion with the fingers, the thumb continually working the clit and the fingers did their fast in and out motions. With the other hand in the small of the firsts back, the first was pinned down, so there was no room for escape from the fast and forceful hand.

The hand made her cum and cum, its relentless movements pushing her to orgasm after orgasm. I really wanted to be her, to have my cunt as milked as hers, for my Melissa to draw that much juice out of me.

But Melissa had other ideas. She lay on the desk of a freshly cleared space and pulled me up, arranging me kneeling facing down her body. She pulled me into position, and then pulled my cunt down to her mouth. With me held in place by her hands, she started licking at my cunt. It was already slick with juices from the displays of the evening, but Melissa’s tongue was both effective at clearing the slickness from my cunt, but also very good at targetting my clit time and time again. I could feel the orgasm coming, but she was dragging it out, savouring every lick, eventually giving me a body shaking orgasm.

I collapsed as my arms couldn’t hold up my weight, but my face ended up mere inches from her cunt. I could smell the fragrance of arousal coming from it, and it wasn’t long before I wriggled into position, mouth directly over it, my tongue diving in. I felt her hands on the back of my head, forcing my head down, forcing my tongue deeper into her cunt. But instead of licking with speed, I licked slowly, burrowing my tongue into her channel between flicking over her clit. I put my hands over her thighs to keep them bolted to the table, as time after time, I flicked from clit to burrowing in the tunnel. She squirmed, she struggled, but her clamping my head and me clamping her thighs meant there was nowhere for her to go, no escape from my tongue.

I felt a moist wave with a musky odour flood my tongue as her hips tried to buck and rock away, and I accelerated because I knew she was near. And a forceful flick of the tongue was all it took to make her cum and cum, holding my head in place to taste her juices, my tongue never stopping moving across her cunt.

Once she had finished bucking, she let my head go, and I swivelled round, kissing her to let her taste her cunt and for me to taste mine.

But we couldn’t stay there, as there was a queue of people waiting to fuck. Time was passing quickly and it was after midnight when we returned to the bungee running tent, all too aware that our evening was drawing to a close, and all too aware that we were about to go our separate ways. In the tent was a discussion going on with about a dozen women and somebody from the students’ union. The bungee run was meant to be closed, but the women wanted to do one more run each, but this time, totally naked. In the end, it was agreed. The tent would be closed to new entrants and only the crowd still in place could stay. Then we would each get one run naked. I was about halfway down the list, Melissa somewhat later.

As my turn arrived, Melissa helped me to lift the dress off over my head, and she flicked the bra clasp to reveal my 38GG tits to the audience. There was an audible sound of approval as I walked down the bungee lane, my ass swinging as seductively as I could manage. The assistant began loading me into the harness, picking my tits up one by one pulling them through the harness and framing them with it.

Once the straps were tight, the assistant left the lane and I was ready to run. With each step, because of the way the harness worked, my tits snapped violently from side to side. If you were to do this for a long time, it would hurt, but this never is going to take long. I ran for as long as I could (which was still only seconds), before that tug of the bungee cord took me off my feet, my bottom half swung forwards, my legs flailed apart and I was pulled down the bungee run, ending up in a heap at the end. This time, without the dress, my cunt and tits were both still fully on display as I lay there, laughing, but also being fully aware of my display. Eventually, I got up and went over to Melissa, hugging and full on tongue kissing her. Then I put the dress back on and we waited for her turn, watching other tits snap and other cunts fly.

Melissa’s turn was near the end, and we waited for everyone to have a go before starting to leave. It was past 1am now and the event was winding down. As was our relationship. Melissa was leaving for home at the end of her overseas year, and I was finishing with university all together. And Melissa’s taxi was in 4 hours, my lift back to my parents was in 8.

Trying to make this last as long as possible, we decided to make one last trip down the hill to our pissing light, and having emptied our bladders with long and high arches of piss, we walked back up the hill arm in arm, stopping only at the bench halfway up to lick each other’s cunts clean of piss and have a last orgasm (which for neither of us took long).

As we finally got back to our halls, we tongue kissed one last time and then just turned and walked away. I didn’t cry as I walked away, but back in my room, I was in floods of tears. I’d never had anyone like Melissa before, and I wasn’t to know if I ever would again. It felt very much like the end.

The Leavers Ball (Part One)

I was only at university the first time for a single year. A combination of poor mental health and being too busy fucking both Melissa and my uni guy, and all those orgasm filled evenings in the nightclub, meant that I wasn’t making the progress academically that I needed to, and I took the pragmatic decision to leave university before doing my self-esteem any more damage.

That meant I was entitled to go the Leavers’ Ball, a lavish affair with the women in gowns and the men in tuxedos. I was entitled to take a partner, and I chose Melissa, as I was emotionally far closer to her than my uni guy. We blew a load of cash in acquiring these amazing silky flouncy gowns, with long gloves to finish off the look. Both our cleavages were on display, although our tits were well held in, something it turned out would be fairly useful.

The leavers’ ball was also to be our last evening together, as Melissa was flying home early the following morning, so we wanted to make it particularly special, one for us to remember.

The ball was a big multi-room affair, with a massive dance hall and loads of other rooms of activity inside and out, all raising money for the students’ union charity. What caught our attention was a tent outside, where there was an inflatable bungee-run. You know the thing – two lanes of inflatable with a bungee jumping cord attached. Whoever was in the lane ran until the cord snapped them back, pulling them off their feet and them flying backwards down the bungee lane. I’d never seen one before, but there was a big crowd round this and we wondered why. A woman in a lovely dress was being harnessed up, and then allowed to start to run.

The straps really emphasised her tits, the straps pulling the fabric of her gown tight around them and as she ran, they swayed from side to side in a mesmerising way. Clearly, a bra under a gown wasn’t going to give enough support for running. Then, only a few seconds later, the cord snapped her off her feet, her top half being pulled backwards, her legs pivoting towards the open end of the lane, and her dress flailing open, her legs apart and we all, for about a second, had a lovely view of her naked cunt. It briefly looked beautiful before being snapped out of view. Melissa saw too and I knew what the glint in her eye was all about: I had the same idea.

The woman in the next lane started to run too, her tits swaying even more than the first. She put up more of a fight against the bungee, but she too was snapped back, and she too revealed her naked cunt to the crowd. You could see why the crowd was there to watch, as woman after woman did the same. The odd one went through with panties (which were also nice to see, in particular, the woman whose tiny panties were pulled tight between her lips, seemingly emphasising them), but predominantly, it was naked cunt after naked cunt. Melissa and I put our names down, just standing in the crowd taking our panties off. Melissa thought we should swap panties as a souvenir of the night (I still have them!) and then we set about watching swinging tits and naked cunts until our turn arrived.

Whilst I was waiting, I thought how pleased I was that I had taken the time to trim my pubes before we came. I wanted to be tidy in case Melissa ended up licking me out, but now, it meant that the crowd would also see a nice tidy Mira.

It was about half an hour and twenty cunts later that it was my turn. The harness really did emphasise my tits, pulling the gown tight against my body, and as I ran, the effect of the harness was to make the top half of my body swing from side to side, therefore exaggerating the swinging of my tits. All too soon, the cord snapped me back, my legs swinging forwards and naturally swinging apart, displaying my cunt for the adoring crowd, even if only for a second.

Over the next couple of hours, we did it another twice each, before deciding we couldn’t do that all night and that we needed to move on to something else.

We roamed the buildings looking in the various rooms at activities, joined in some of them for a bit, before we decided to sit in the rose garden doing proper frenzied tongues kissing and a fair bit of groping with our hands. I’d honestly have fucked her right there, but we thought better of it and thought we ought to find a room to fuck in instead.

We looked for a bit, finding lots of locked rooms and ones with non-sexual activities, but eventually we found a few odd people going into a room that wasn’t on the list of rooms with activities. We were hopeful as we poked our heads through the door. What we saw was a dozen couples engaged in various sexual activities, some men and women couples, some all men and some all women. The air in the room was full of the smell of orgasm and cum, so these occupants clearly weren’t the first.

There were seven women bent over tables, five of them had a cock in their cunts, the other two had a cock in their asses. I was somewhat mesmerised by the latter, as I knew of anal sex at this point, but had never seen it before, and certainly had never done it. They made it look so easy.

I heard a series of smacks, as one of the men had stopped penetrating his woman, had stepped back and was bringing his hand into sharp contact with her round wobbling ass, before plunging his cock into her cunt again. Her cunt stayed open when he withdrew and just took his cock right in there when he drove in.

One of the women started screaming as her body tensed up, shortly before her man stopped his motion and I could see the tell-tale sign of the muscles across his ass tensing, meaning he was filling her cunt with cum. They got up to leave soon afterwards, her adjusting her dress to make herself presentable. Now I could see her face, I realised that I had seen her do the bungee run already and knew she was pantyless, so she’d have a dripping cunt for the rest of the night now. Dreamy!

They were replaced by another couple, the woman bending over the table, the man lifting her skirt up over her head, pulling her panties aside and plunging his already fairly hard cock into her cunt in one slick movement. She must have been well lubricated already. Maybe he’d been playing with her cunt elsewhere, or maybe she was just that excited.

One of the other five couples were men, one bent over the table having his asshole reamed by the other. It was relentless. It was strong. It was a feast for the eyes, particularly for a fairly sheltered bi girl like I was.

The other four couples were women, and Melissa and I had every intention of being the next lesbian couple fucking there. But in the meantime, we could enjoy watching those already there, those already fucking, those already cumming, excited by the visuals, the smell, and the knowledge that we’d be next.

Camel-Toe Crazy

When I left for university, I was finally released from my mother’s rule. Those clothes she made me wear, the fear she instilled, everything that stopped me from developing into me, rather than a clone of her. At uni, I had a chance to find me.

Fucking men: that was me. Turns out fucking women was definitely me too. Melissa wasn’t the first woman I had lusted after, but she was the first one that I had kissed and we had paired up quickly after that first kiss. I continued fucking my uni guy (he knew and was turned on by the thoughts of me and Melissa fucking) and she fucked some guy too on and off, but we were both enjoying the lesbian sex more. Between them, I was getting the most sex I ever did until I met my now husband.

But the thing I was having real trouble with was style. I wasn’t exactly a slim girl, but I was shapely, with amazing tits (although I wasn’t best enamoured with them at the start) and a wardrobe full of clothes your granny would wear. Thanks Mum, I’m not you. My clothes were all loose, covering me up, lowering my self-esteem even more than what happened in the rest of my teenage years did.

But by this point, I had a whole posse at uni, not just Melissa, and they were determined to help me find and hone my style. I’m not one for clothes shopping, but with a group on hand, we sometimes went out, trying on various things, using their experience and styles to make progress.

After years of crawling under a rock to hide from everyone, I wanted to break free, to be noticed. I had started by wearing tighter clothes, ones that didn’t hide the fact I was slightly larger than ideal, but the clothes I selected all showed off my curves superbly. I got a kick out of the positive response I received. Being noticed was wild!

On one of those shopping trips, we found a bra that dramatically emphasised my cleavage, and I bought that and a dress that took advantage of it. The cup fabric of this deep-plunge bra was also very thin, as was the fabric of the dress, so my nipples showed perfectly. I was advised to use ice to make them bigger to make absolutely sure they were on display, and I started doing this every time I went out.

Figure hugging clothes with monster cleavage and on display nipples was definitely the way to go, and I got a mega kick from showing off my tits, something I still get to this day. It was the first time I really began to love my tits. I know some women get upset when men talk to their cleavage instead of their face, but I love it and it just makes me happy.

Now, I’m not usually one for trends, but there was one trend that it was suggested would get me noticed even more. It was about ten years since camel-toe had first made it into the Urban Dictionary. What for a few years was a fashion faux pas went to being the height of teenage fashion, then looked down on, and then back into fashion again.

One of the poshest girls in the group showed me a pair of shorts in one of the shops that were pretty obscene if I’m honest. The briefest of try-ons showed their potential, but the full obscenity only showed later; the fabric pulled tight into my ass crack and a long way up my cunt, and I could arrange my flaps to make a fabulous camel-toe. I couldn’t wear panties under them, as it obscured the camel-toe, and as I was doubting the purchase, my posh friend said that if I bought and wore a pair, she would too.

In that same trip, one of the others showed me a top that stretched tightly across my tits, and with my deep-plunge bra, the straining of the buttons across my cleavage meant that a column of enormous gapes ran right down between my tits and with my iced nipples showing, it was a fabulous view.

Pair that with the obscene shorts, I had a killer outfit that hid nothing. This was a new slutty out there me, and I was a hit in the club we went to every week. My body was totally on show, everything visible and I’m not going to lie; it got me groped quite a bit, but I didn’t mind. I was seen, noticed, I was me.

And I fucking enjoyed the groping. Interestingly, whilst I was groped by men, I was groped far more by women. I can’t recall how many women I snogged, full on tongues, many of them resulted in mutual masturbation sessions in the seating booths or even right there on the dance floor. I didn’t know their names, I didn’t much care, I just loved the connections, the kissing, the groping, the orgasms.

It always happened the same way. A handful of ass or tit was grabbed, you were hauled from the crowd and up to another woman’s body, tits got squashed against each other, faces got close and tongues got pushed into each other’s mouths. No subtlety or finesse. Just a long hard snog with tongues exploring each other’s mouths and hands exploring each other’s bodies.

With two whole-hearted participants, hands inevitably headed cunt-wards, initially rubbing on the outside of the shorts; the thin fabric was rough and therefore provided a little friction on the rubbing, which only added to the sensation.

Sometimes that was enough, and focussed rhythmic rubbing right there on the dance floor, the odd rough kiss added, was enough to make a girl cum. The fabric of the shorts didn’t react well to cunt juices, and so, for the rest of the evening, I’d have a damp patch at the front of my shorts. Well, so would the other girl, and that was fine. And then the second girl that started masturbating you put her fingers to some wet fabric and she knew. Although she was normally the same. And wet fabric only emphasised the camel-toe, stickiness making sure the fabric stayed up your cunt.

Of course, sometimes, it wasn’t a quick wank on the dance floor that you were after. Sometimes you wanted to feel hand touch your flesh, finger fuck you, and so, guiding each other, you left the dance floor and headed to what were knows as the cubicles, U-shaped benched seating populated by kissing couples, normally on the way to wanking or giving blow jobs. Sometimes you had to wait, such was the popularity, and the cubicles invariably smelled of cum.

So, there you’d be, sitting in this cubicle, legs spread wide, your buttons undone to show your heaving cleavage to your new friend, obscene shorts round an ankle, whilst your new friend works your cunt with her fingers, targeting your clit quite viciously, rubbing on your cunt flaps and finger fucking you with two or three fingers. You could always see the focus on her face as she looks down at your cunt and the joy she was bringing to it. The good ones made you cum several times and then dropped to their knees and got under the table to lick you clean, and then once clean, it was time to swap places and reciprocate, and you’d end up with hands smelling of cunt and mouths tasting of it. A final hard kiss, swapping tastes as we went, and we’d part in search of the next cunt to wank, frequently to never see each other again after that night.

And often, in the same cubicle was Melissa, who, having seen the success my outfits were, got some of her own. She too had monster cleavage and a fabulous camel-toe, and had similar success with the women at the club. And every time, we had a cubicle session too. After all, molesting Melissa was the reason I started going clubbing.

The club was a bit like a cattle market, only the cattle picked each other. You weren’t fussy. Pretty much any woman who grabbed you was fair game, any cunt to be cherished for that short while, and of course, when we got back to uni, Melissa and I licked each other’s cunts out, not only to taste our juices, but because we’d publicly pissed on the way back up the hill and never dried our cunts.

Because despite all the groping, all the cunts, I was still hers and she mine.

I instigated as much grabbing and groping as I was grabbed and groped. Let’s face it, if I saw a woman in that club that I wanted to kiss or to make cum, I went for it. It’s why most of us were there, on show at the cattle market. I was rarely rejected, and I virtually never rejected anyone. Why would I?

I remember those nights with great fondness. I have no idea how many women I made cum, or how many made me cum. But it was a lot. And more importantly, I felt alive, I felt free. What with the clothes, the kissing, the groping and the care-free orgasms, both in the club and with Melissa, I felt that I was finally being me.

Mass Relief

I’ve never been one for clubbing, but whilst at university, Melissa and I did frequent a lesbian friendly one at times, with a pack of girls who used to all go to keep an eye on each other. To be honest, for me, it was more a case of being somewhere Melissa and I could molest each other in public and nobody would mind.

The only downside was the trawl back up the hill to the university at the end of the night. Drinking alcopops all evening resulted in a 3am hike with a bunch of rowdy pissed up women, hardly the height of decorum.

The first such evening happened a month after I got together with Melissa. Neither of us had been with this group before, but as we spent the whole of one evening in a university bar tongue kissing and groping each other’s tits, we were both invited along the next Friday. It was February and we were thrown out of the club as it was closing, and we started the long meander. A kebab part way (where there were 4 grades of chilli sauce, mild, medium, hot and student) and a bucket of fizzy stuff to wash the heat down, and about 2/3 of the way up the hill, all those alcopops and all that fizz hit my bladder, ramped up by it being cold as well. It turns out I wasn’t the only one, as a couple of the girls started talking about desperately needing a piss.

A couple of minutes later, the group abruptly came to a halt in the alley that connected to the university land, stopped under a bright streetlight. One of the women became the organiser, asking who was going first? I had no idea what was happening, but three of the women stepped forwards.

They were waved off the path and they went and stooped down on their heels, their backs leaning against a brick wall. They each pulled their dresses and skirts up and panties aside, and then, one at a time, starting with the one of the left, the women each spread their pissflaps with their fingers and just pissed, an arc of piss emanating from their revealed pissholes, strong, blatant, free of all cares, and beautifully illuminated by the streetlight. Three wonderful women all emptying their bladders in full view of the crowd of women. And we were all watching and enjoying the view, basking in the moment. An unexpected thrill.

It was the first time I’d seen a woman piss, and never even dreamed of crouching down in a row and doing it, let alone of holding my pissflaps open for all to see. This was before it became popular as an internet craze, so it was unknown, and very exciting. Once all three had finished, they pulled their panties back over their cunts and stood up, curtseying a little for the crowd. The thought went through my head of three moist cunts leaving damp pissy patches on the panties that covered them, as none of them had wiped their piss flaps dry.

Three more took their places and repeated the ritual, including one, who didn’t have panties on at all, and so would have dripped all the way up the hill. I found the thought of that ridiculously sexy, as if a row of pissing women wasn’t sexy enough.

After the second batch, the organiser looked round and came over to Melissa and me. We three were the last of the group, and the organiser wanted a piss herself, so she offered us the chance to join in. Melissa was a touch hesitant, but I really really needed to empty my bladder, and like NOW!, so was raring to go. Not only was my bladder bursting, but seeing the others piss and more importantly hearing it (and their relief) had done me in. I had to go. Sod if Melissa wasn’t, I sure as fuck was. In the end, Melissa decided she didn’t want to be left out, so she crouched down in the middle, me of the left and the organiser on the right to finish off.

As I lifted up my skirt, I couldn’t quite believe what I was about to do. Six pairs of eyes looking up and down the row first at our panties, then at our cunts. My panties were some of the tiniest I owned, and basically moulded themselves to the shape of my lips. I peeled them aside and felt the light breeze blowing across my cunt. My bladder throbbing snapped me back to reality. I looked left to see Melissa and the organiser looking towards me, cunts exposed, waiting for me to begin.

I put my hands down to my cunt and peeled aside the pissflaps, revealing my pinkness and my pisshole to the assembled throng. I looked round to see six sets of eyes trained on my pisshole, just waiting for my stream to begin.

I was nervous. I didn’t really know if I could piss in those circumstances. I need not have concerned myself though. I relaxed my muscles only slightly, and the pressure from my full bladder meant that a nice strong stream almost immediately emerged, arcing away from my body and landing a good distance away from my feet. The relief was immense, and completely wiped away any nerves and concerns I had. The stream seemed to go on for ever, and I was actually able to smile at the attention and adoration those faces showed me. I had to say I really enjoyed it and was disappointed when my stream subsided. When I was definitely done, I let go of my pissflaps and looked to Melissa.

She opened her pissflaps and after a short delay, a weak stream began, which soon strengthened to a strong arc as her bladder emptied. The smile on her face said she enjoyed it as well, and our two performances were capped off by the organiser, who seemed to angle her pelvis up a touch and made her arc of piss much higher and therefore longer than the rest of it. She was showing off now. I resolved to try that the next time – I wanted there to be a next time.

We all put our panties back in place and wandered up the hill, our panties getting wet with the piss we would usually dab off with toilet roll. It felt very naughty.

Talking to one of the regulars as we walked up the hill, none of them piss before leaving the club, and they always have a bucket of fizzy stuff with the kebab to make sure they are bursting before they reach the streetlight. It was by luck that neither Melissa nor I realised the time, as we may have pissed before leaving – we just didn’t have the chance. This is a ritual they repeated every Friday, and Melissa and I were there for all of them after that. I suppose that is why it has always been easier for me to piss in front of others – I had had loads of practise.

After each public pissing, Melissa and I always licked each other’s cunts clean of piss when we got back to one of our rooms, this being my first taste of another woman’s piss. It wasn’t the taste, but the act that was so special, and the last time I was in my university town, I made a point of going to that streetlight at 3am (this time with Victoria) and we both carried out the same piss ritual, in honour of those amazing women who I regularly pissed there with.

Tasting A Girl (Part Two)

Melissa had just given me the biggest orgasm I had ever had, shaking me to my core. We sat back on the bed and cuddled and kissed for a bit, as I was recovering and working out how to repay the favour. I was hopeful I was going to taste my first cunt in only a matter of minutes, and I was trying to remember technique from my male lover at uni, who was pretty good at getting me to cum with his tongue.

When I was ready, I started to work on her nipples again, also licking down between her tits. She brushed away my hair from my face and told me to do what I thought, not just to copy her. That was my invitation to plant my face between her legs and lick her out, something I was dreaming about for weeks before.

I slowly moved my hands down under her dress and hooked my fingers over each side of her panties, easing them over her ass and onto the floor. I thought that was symbolic – removing her panties before I finished taking off her dress. The dress was soon to follow though.

There in front of me was this totally majestic woman, her bald cunt was the first bald one I had ever seen. I gently pushed at her belly and she got the hint and sat back on the bed, her ass right on the edge. I lowered myself to my knees, as she pulled the pillows over and leant back on them. I delicately kissed at her cunt lips as I remembered my male lover doing, before starting to work my tongue along her folds, around her clit and flitting in and out of her canal. I really didn’t know if I was doing it right, but I heard moans of contentment coming from Melissa, so I concluded I was heading the right way. I tirelessly worked with my mouth for what seemed like hours (but could only have been somewhat less), and as my tongue was starting to tire, I used my fingers to additionally start working on her clit. I have to admit I was somewhat mean to her clit, pinching it and rubbing it in an unforgiving way, quite brutal in some ways, but her back was arching and she was taking it all.

And then, suddenly, the magic happened. She came, and my mouth was flooded with her wonderful juices. I eagerly lapped them up, as I heard Melissa say “Gently”. I slowed down and cleaned her up a bit, then left her cunt. She sat up and we kissed, us sharing her juices between our two mouths. It was very erotic.

We spent the next while cuddling, smiling, and laughing as we suddenly felt very comfortable with each other. Then she went to her drawer and pulled out a dildo. I remember thinking it was quite large (although I suspect I wouldn’t think that now), and it was certainly larger than the one I had. She assured me it had only been used on her cunt, but she wanted to use it on mine. That sounded like a great idea.

She inserted the end of it into her mouth and started to suck to get it nice and slippery, as I laid back on the bed, my head up on a pillow so I could see her work. She opened my legs up and nudged the end of the dildo against my vulva, just rubbing the end up and down between my cunt lips. She stopped and started gently pushing against my cunt and it started to slide in, with a little backwards motion occasionally to get it feeling comfortable. Once it slid all the way in, she left it and came up my body to kiss me. Then she went back to her drawer and plucked out a vibrator and put it next to my right hand.

“When you want to cum,” she explained, “use that on your clit. But be careful, because I want a long session, so when you do cum, you need to be able to carry on.” I nodded that I understood, and she started sliding the dildo in and out, slowly at first, but very rhythmically. It felt so good to have my cunt filled again, even if it was a toy, and I loved the look of concentration on Melissa’s face as she worked the dildo in and out. I felt my orgasm starting to build, and my body must have given her a signal that caused her to speed up and to slam the dildo in a little harder. It built so far and seemed to stall, so I turned on the vibrator and applied it to my clit. I was very quickly on the edge of exploding and my body was moving around, and I was moaning, and then I cried out and came. I rubbed my clit with the tip of the vibrator a few times to extend the orgasm a bit, and when my body has stopped shaking, I opened my eyes to tell her to stop.

She had a loving look on her face but told me she wasn’t stopping for a long time yet, so I had to knuckle down and get used to it. The problem is my clit gets very sensitive, so I knew it would hurt a little to apply the vibrator. Equally though, I knew she wanted me to do it again and again, and I really wanted to please my lover.

She hadn’t broken rhythm all through my orgasm and she carried on with slower and full strokes. It actually didn’t take long for pressure to start building up in my cunt again. I bit my lip and applied the tip of the vibrator to my clit, causing me to cry out in pain. Without breaking rhythm, she asked if I was OK, and I confirmed I was, demanding she fuck me harder.

It was the first time I had decided to be merciless on my own body, and my poor clit was the part of my body I’d decided deserved no mercy. So as Melissa sped up her strokes, I worked my clit with the vibrator and soon I was cumming for her again.

This clit torture was going on for over an hour, and I lost count at the number of times I came at six. But after an instruction to “make this a big one”, she pulled the dildo out, saying I’d had enough for one day. She lent down and gave my cunt a thorough clean with her tongue, as I lay there exhausted. I was keen to return the favour, so after a break of about half an hour of cuddling, we switched over and she received the same treatment from me, nice hard rhythmic dildoing for over an hour, with her using the vibrator on her clit to bring herself to numerous quite large and satisfying orgasms.

Once she had finished cumming, I licked her cunt clean and then we each licked half the dildo, which was covered in our combined juices, and we lay back on the bed kissing with very busy tongues. We were both very happy, and I was pleased my uni guy wasn’t expecting a fuck tonight.

She was my first lesbian lover, and one I returned to over and over whilst I was at university.

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