Submission #9 of the True Tales of Erotica Competition is a steamy “girl on girl” memoir from Jenny Swallows and we likey!
The Seduction Experience at Museum of Sex on April 12th is coming up fast. Which of these stories will you vote for? The winner will get free tickets to our workshop and our notorious “yes Mistress…” shirts.
Story by: by Jenny Swallows
It was my first ever solo trip to “the big city” – a girlfriend and I took the bus for a museum opening, booked a bookshelf-sized room at a hotel in Tribeca, and had three days (and nights) in which to live life without a single parent to frown at us. So I was pretty pissed when Alice, my friend, suddenly announced she’d made arrangements to meet up with a boy she knew on our first night in the city, meaning that I was going to be on my own for the evening.
I wandered down to the hotel bar and looked around. Businessmen, hookers, other guests – what else did I expect to find? But I ordered a drink and a salad and took a seat by the window, wondering what a lone woman in a strange city was supposed to do when she didn’t know a soul.
It’s a long story – I’ll shorten it. Lisa was also on her own, also in a strange city, also staying at the hotel. We met when she walked in about ten minutes after I arrived to find every table had now been taken and her choice of dining partners was limited either to a few lonely-looking salesman types, a couple with a rambunctious baby, or me. “Do you mind if I join you?” I shook my head. “Please….”
She was stunning. Taller than me, with reddish hair that cascaded to her shoulders, perfect features, perfect figure. Her top was tight enough to show off the swell of her breasts, her pants framed legs that went on forever. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted any other woman.
We talked, we laughed, we got on well. We took a walk through Barnes & Noble, we stopped at a liquor store and picked up some wine, and then back at the hotel, we agreed to take our party up to her room… Alice had said she’d be back before midnight… and with my heart in my mouth, I kissed Lisa for the first time as we sat dialing channels on the hotel TV. Neither of us had said, or even hinted, at anything in that direction, but the wine we’d sunk over dinner was already swimming around my head and it just seemed the right thing to do.
Lisa kissed me back; the remote control was forgotten and her hands were on my breasts, first through my blouse and then in between the buttons. She moved swiftly but gently – my attempts to caress her felt clumsy by comparison, and she knew it. “Lay still,” she whispered. “Let me….”
I obeyed. Off came my blouse and the skimpy bra I’d been wearing, and her mouth was playing magically across my flesh, licking my nipples until I thought they would burst, and then sucking them hard, till my back arched and my pussy screamed for a taste of the same treatment. She knew it, too, and a hand sank between my legs, gently stroking me through my sodden panties, until suddenly she had whipped them off and two fingers slipped effortlessly inside me.
Lisa’s mouth was on my abdomen, my tummy, my waist. She was taking her time, and every minute stretched out into hours of exquisite tease and tension, until at last her face was between my legs, breathing me in and purring as I bucked my hips towards her, crying out with impatience and lust, and reaching out too, to touch her where she was touching me, to feel her and taste her and drink her in…. She moved away quickly, but I moved even faster.
My hand clasped her pussy – and something else. A strap-on. She was wearing a strap-on. My mind jolted for a moment, wondering when she’d put it on. Or had she been wearing it all evening? And did it even matter? My right hand held her face to my cunt, my left hand felt her toy’s length and thickness, and wrestled with her pants to free it from its cage. She was still struggling to get away, but with less and less conviction as her buttons finally parted and I pulled her towards my mouth, breathed in and… it wasn’t a strap-on. It was a cock, a long, hard, beautiful and very real cock. As real as the bare breasts that she’d revealed when she undressed me, and which she’d let me suck on just a few moments earlier, as real as the orgasm that was building up inside me. I pulled her into my mouth and sucked.
I gripped her length, guess-timating how much of it I could comfortably fit in as she started to move, and now she was fucking my face, the thick meaty helmet thrusting inside me, her movements matching my own as I moved closer and closer to my climax – and then I released hershaft and slapped both hands to her ass, pushing her deep inside my mouth as my entire body shook to my final explosion, and she came as well, a flood of cum that poured down my throat, so hard and fast that I barely even felt it, but so thick that I tasted it backing up in my mouth, for me to swallow more luxuriously as her pounding slowed down and our bodies calmed.
And afterwards… Lisa tried to explain, but I hushed her. I didn’t care. Later, I wished I had asked more questions; later still, once the Internet began making stars of so-called she-males, I wondered how her life has panned out since our frenzied encounter that night ten years ago. I still do, but one thing is for sure. In my mind, she is still one of the most beautiful women I have ever met. And she owned one of the most beautiful cocks.