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Archive-name: Samesex/1storgsm.ff

Archive-author: Christie

Archive-title: First Orgasm (Lesbian)

     It had been a fairly interesting evening. Although I don't

much go for bars of any description, I do like to play pool, and

on Wednesday night we had the pool tournament down at the Other

Place (silly name for a gay bar, but I've seen worse). For the past

several weeks, I had won easily, although there was much amazement

at my technique... I came an hour early, bought a pitcher of beer,

listened to music and drank. Then, just before the tournament, I

bought _another_ pitcher, played two practice games, and then I was

ready. Every week, the other entrants all looked for me to be an

easy mark with that much alcohol inside me. And every week the

alcohol loosened up my hyper-analytical personality, letting me

relax, keeping me from doing mechanics calculations prior to each

shot, and let me sink any shot I called out to the amused and

amazed on-lookers. This week was the same, and I was in the final

best-of-three games in the last round, playing against the final

challenger to see who would get the prize. 

     She'd introduced herself as we met over the table, saying her

name was Kim. She was an attractive woman, maybe an inch under six

feet unshod, just a bit over in the ropers she was wearing. She had

golden blonde hair, eyes so green that tawdry words like "emerald"

couldn't do them justice, a beautiful, smart-ass grin, and what

seemed to be a very well-made body in those tight Wrangler jeans.

I did all the cataloguing somewhere in the back of my head, as I

watched her racking the balls on the velvet; she grinned as she

took the rack away, twirling it between her fingers as it cleared

the tops of the balls.  Now I was tipsy enough still not to be too

tight, but even so I could feel the tension as I poised myself to

break. An observer looking at me would have seen a fairly pretty

but intent woman, clad in the standard uniform for the Other Place:

jeans, boots, tight T-shirt. I was bent over the end of the table,

the round curves of my ass emphasized by the tight denim jeans, my

blue eyes intent on the table before me. I brushed my long, ash-

blonde hair away from my face, placed the cue just so, set myself,

and uncoiled through the place where the white ball had been a

moment earlier. My break was unorthodox and even a bit silly-

looking, but I got the balls well-scattered, and two dropped. This

would be a good game, the magic was all in place. My opponent

brushed against my hip as I rounded the table, an accidental 

contact as she stepped out of my way, letting me take my place for

my next shot. "Nice break!" she told me, flashing a mega-watt grin

my way. I hardly noticed, other than to smile back before shooting

again. This time I couldn't make the pocket, and I stood aside to

watch the other woman play. What was her name? Oh yes, Kim.

     The grin she had worn before was gone as she carefully

considered the table from all sides. She was intent and methodical,

carefully setting up her shot, checking the angle, and finally

sinking the ball in such a fluid, graceful motion that I was

momentarily amazed that a human body should move so smoothly. She

shot again, and again, and I began to wonder if I'd get another

chance, until at last she missed, and I had another opportunity.

It was easier this time, as she'd gotten several of her balls out

of the way: eventually I missed a shot again. We went back and

forth over that game, which I won by just a hair... that being the

distance she'd been off when she'd shot at the eight and missed.

The second and third games were much the same, and when it was all

over, I had won numbers one and three, I had a twenty-five dollar

bar tab as my prize, while she had ten. "Care to drink one on me?"

I asked her, indicating the pitcher-full of amber liquid. She

grinned and agreed, and we took ourselves over to a table at the

side of the room. We tried briefly to talk, but as soon as the

tournament was through, the owner cranked up the music,

substituting disco with a heavy bass line for the country and

western that they tended to play for "us girls." It was after ten

now, and the guys were starting to come in: in another hour, they'd

have the place pretty much to themselves. It was impossible to make

ourselves heard over the too-loud music, so we drank and watched

others in companionable silence. Finally, I asked if she'd like to

head over to Denny's for some coffee and a chance to talk, and she

shouted her agreement over the music. We escaped outside into the

cool, quiet dark.

     When our ears quit ringing, she made a counter-suggestion. It

was late, she'd be disturbing the people she lived with if she

traipsed in at this hour, and how about if she crashed at my house,

and took me for coffee in the morning? I thought the idea sounded

wonderful, and told her that my sister was out of town, so I had

an extra bed, freshly made up, and that I'd be glad to have her

stay over. She followed me the few miles to my home, and we went

inside. We talked for an hour or two, sipping rich, dark, imported

ales that seemed almost sweet after the American brews at the bar.

We talked about inconsequential things, she telling me about her

job on campus, and me explaining to her that I was a student, and

so on. We were almost exactly the same age, as I'd just recently

gone back to school, our families came from the same part of the

state, and we were from from similar types of families. Eventually

we headed upstairs, where I showed her to the master bedroom. "I

hate to mess up your sister's bed," she said to me, "and I see you

have a kingsize. How about if I just sleep on the other side of

your bed? You don't mind, do you?" I thought nothing about it, and

told her that that would certainly be all right with me. I showed

her my drawer-full of T-shirts and assorted nightwear, and told her

to help herself while I took a quick shower to relax after the

tension generated by the over-loud music.

     When I came back to my room, relaxed and dressed in a crisp,

clean, oversized men's oxford shirt, she was already in bed with

the covers pulled up under her chin. I got the lights out, and

crawled in with her. "Do you mind if I snuggle up next to you?" she

asked. "I'll do it after I'm asleep anyway." This was not quite-

so-standard in the "slumber-party/girls-sleeping-over" model I had

in my head, but I readily acquiesced. This lady was beautiful

enough to be a professional model, she had a wonderful, innocent

air to her, and I was being ridiculous to even suspect that she was

coming on to me at all. I told her of course that would be fine,

and so she eeled over against me where I lay on my back, draping

her right arm across my waist, her right leg over my leg, and

pillowing her head in the hollow of my shoulder. My heart was

definitely beating a bit faster than usual, but I tried to relax,

shut my eyes, and go to sleep. "Do not," I sternly warned myself,

"even think that this woman is interested in you! You'll piss her

off if you suggest it and possibly ruin what could be a very nice

friendship!" The internal lecture was in full swing, when she began

stroking her fingers down my side, back again over my ribs, across

my breast, and down again. I groaned silently, hoping that she

wouldn't notice my tension or arousal... "She said she wanted to

cuddle, she's half asleep, you are NOT going to respond to this and

scare her off!" I told myself angrily. "She doesn't even know you!

You're being ridiculous!" I told myself. But her hand continued ts

teasing glide over my body, and every few minutes her fingers would

trail across one hardened nipple, driving me mad with the electric

jolt of arousal that shot straight into the growing warmth in my

loins each time she did it. Finally I caught her hand with my own.

She looked up at me with an inquisitive look. Hoarsely I told her,

"If you keep that up, you're going to be in trouble..." Her

answering grin could have lit the football stadium, "Maybe I want

to be in trouble!"

     I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. "Oh." was all

I could manage, and now her teasing fingers had started unbuttoning

my shirt, and she was sitting up, looking down at me, all the while

grinning in obvious pleasure. It wasn't that I thought myself

unattractive, mind you, that had caused me to be so slow on the

uptake. It was simply that she was so utterly beautiful and

graceful, I felt like a mortal honored unduly with the prescence

of a goddess. And right now that goddess was stroking tight little

circles around my nipples, causing them to crinkle down into hard

peaks, which her fingers rubbed and tweaked and pulled. I don't

think I have ever been so aroused, before or since. I pulled her

down to me, meeting her lips with mine, and kissing her was like

drinking honey wine; sweet, intoxicating. In my single previous

affair with a woman, I was usually the one who took the lead in

sex, and that old girlfriend had always encouraged me in the

"butch" role. But when I tried to take the initiative now, Kim

pressed me back against the bed, telling me that I was to lay back

and enjoy what she was doing. It felt, well, indescribably sensual.

Having her make love to me this way made me feel utterly feminine,

in a way that making love to men, or even another woman never had,

and I loved the feeling. 

     She undressed me, making me lift my hips so that she could

slide my panties down over my ass, then leaned down and kissed me,

pulling me up with her into a soft embrace as she slid the shirt

back off my shoulders. The velvet softness of her breasts against

mine was unabashedly sensuous. My arms were around her now,

stroking her back and sides while our lips stayed locked togethr,

our tongues battling silently in their own satin caress. Before I

could try and tease her out of her clothes, she pushed my back

again against the pillows, and kissed me softly on the lips, the

cheek, nibbled at my earlobe a moment, then outlined the ear with

her hot, wet tongue. I moaned again, as her hands continued doing

wicked and wonderful things to my nipples and her tongue traced

intricate patterns along the soft skin of my throat, dwelt a moment

in the hollow betwen my collar bones. Soon her lips fastened on one

hard nipple, though the other was not neglected either, being

rolled between her long, stong fingers. Her tongue, which had

seemed so soft against my own while we were kising, now became a

hard, demanding instrument, flickering in fast circles around the

nipple, tracing the aureola, her lips nibbling the hard peak,

sucking gently then firmly. My world narrowed under this treatment,

focusing only on the sensations from my nipples and the answering

twinges between my legs. I felt helpless, empowered, exalted,

abashed, wanton, shy... 

     My breath was coming in hash, ragged gasps, and I could hear

myself moaning as I neared orgasm solely from the wonderfully

wicked things she was doing to my breasts. She was well aware of

my situation, though, and suddenly the air was cold on my wet

nipples, and her warm lips were seeking their way down the arch of

my ribs, across my sides (ticklish... she grinned me another wicked

grin), then planted a kiss above the triangle of Venus. She

wordlessly encouraged me to pull my knees up, as she stationed

herself between my legs. Her voice was a bit ragged, too, when she

instructed me to reach down and part the wet folds for her tongue.

A shock of pleasure rocked my body as her lips softly touched my

clitoris is a gentle kiss. She bent her head, just teasing with he

tip of her tongue, dipping first deep into my well, then running

it up along the slit, meeting my clitoris again. Now she pressed

her lips tightly against me, the pressure of her kiss holding the

hood of my clitoris back, exposing the sensitive head to the

searching, flickering dance of her skilled tongue. I could feel my

back arching as if each touch of her tongue wound me tighter and

tighter, a spring coiling to a level of unbearable tension. "Let

me..." she whispered, pausing from the alchemy she was working to

look up and twine my fingers with hers, holding my hands tightly

above my pubis in her strong grasp, before bending her head back

to my center. Her strong grasp had my hands pinioned, her arms

encircling my hips and holding me down against the bed, while

licked and sucked and stroked and flickered... the orgasms started

very quietly, slow gentle waves of pleasure rolling through me,

until she let go of one hand and suddenly plunged her fingers into

my pussy causing me to gasp, to buck, to cry out as the real orgasm

hit me like a tidal wave. I had time to think, confused, that I'd

been wrong all these years, I'd never had an orgasm, THIS was an

orgasm, and ohmigod, could I live through such intense,

overwhelming, soulstraining pleasure? I SCREAMED with the release,

barely hearing the noise over the pounding of my pulse in my ears,

and my vision started to tunnel down, greyness blacking out the

edges of my vision. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the

experience. The orgasm kept happening, and each moment I was amazed

again as the strenth of it increased. My legs were trembling, I

could feel my hips moving involuntarily, restrained from out-and-

out bucking by the grasp of her arm around me, both of my hands

gripping her one like a lifeline, holding on in mingled terror and

exaltation. Then she took her fingers out of my pulsing cunt, just

for a moment, before sinking her thumb back into me... but now her

wet, slippery fingers were teasing my asshole, playing with the

tight rosebud there, until she slipped first one, then two digits

inside. I had never felt anything like the sensations that shot

through me now. She was lashing my clit with her experienced

tongue, her thumb and fingers were pumping in and out of me,

simultaneously piercing both ass and cunt, and I continued to come,

continued to scream, I could feel tears rolling down my face, I

couldn't take anymore, I couldn't sustain this level of

stimulation... ohmigod, I can't take it, oh no, no, oh god...

Awareness came back to me gradually, like the quiet stealing

advance of dawn across the dimly lit twilight hours. I don't know

if I actually fainted or whether my brain just couldn't process the

data anymore. Kim was now kissing and softly licking my clit, no

longer directly on the exposed head, her fingers inside me still,

but motionless. I could feel my muscles clench upon her fingers as

occasionally small waves of pleasure would ripple through me,

aftershocks after earthquake, the tide behind the tsunami. 

In a moment I would make love to her...

Kim pulled herself up and lay atop my body, her long legs twining

with mine. I kissed her, putting all my heart and soul into it, the

taste of my own juices reminding me of the amazing feelings that

I'd just experienced, and causing weak aftershocks of orgasm. As

if she could read my mind, Kim shifted so that one of her legs was

between mine, applying firm pressure against my clit. I couldn't

keep my hips still, even though I was still trembling with the

exhaustion of the tremendous series of orgasms that I'd just had.

Each slow thrust of her hip against my cunt evoked an answering

orgasm, and this continued for several minutes as we kissed long

and passionately. I couldn't believe, even now, that this

wonderful, lovely woman was making love to me. My hands were

wandering up underneath the T-shirt she had on, stroking along her

sides, running softly down her back. 

All at once, my eyes filled with tears, and I hugged her fiercely

so that she wouldn't see. I had had at least a dozen lovers by that

time, and before this I had never actually had an orgasm, even

though if you'd asked me an hour before, I would have told you

different. The experience was overwhelming, stirring emotions and

responses within me that I couldn't name nor define. Later I was

to look back and see that from that transcendent moment on, I would

have given her my heart or soul had she asked me for it, I would

have died for her smile: all those melodramatic, exuberant sorts

of overreactions, they all applied to the way that woman made me


As Kim returned my hug with equal strength, I was able to regain

my composure. With a gentle motion, I urged her onto her back

beside me, and started kissing at her navel and worked my way

slowly up her ribs. A little sly and playful nibble there proved

that she, too was ticklish, but I'd save tickle fighhts for

later... my lips continued their peregrination upwards, finally

finding the warm, soft swelling of her breast. I tugged her shirt

up over her breasts, and she helped me pull it off over her head.

The creamy white skin, the pale pink of her nipples stood out

against her golden tan. I just sat, propped up on one elbow, and

looked for a moment, enjoying the perfect curve of the breast,

watching her nipples slowly harden from some combination of the

cool air and the pressure of my gaze upon them. I couldn't wait

very long however, before lowering my lips to suck one hardened

nipple into my mouth, sucking, nibbling, running my tongue in slow

circles around the hard peak, flickering across the nipple. My left

hand strayed over to her other breast, and stroked the underside

of its soft swelling curve, thumb teasing the hardened pink nipple.

She had one arm around my shoulders, stroking my hair with the

other, pressing my head to her breast to indicate that I should

suck harder. As I complied, she gasped quietly, then let out a low

moan as my left hand found it way to her panties, and began

investigating the path within. I slid my hand inside the thin

cloth, and slipped first one side and then the other down past her

hips, exposing her loins to my questing fingers. Her hand had left

my hair, and she was trying without much success to free herself

of the minimal confinement of her panties. Regretfully, I left the

nipple that I had been suckling, sitting up to help her finish

removing them. My god, but she was gorgeous! She was indeed blonde,

and the streetlight made the curly hair gleam, droplets of moisture

catching little sparks of light, like diamonds glittering in a net

of spun gold. A shiver took me then as I looked at her, my arousal

mounting high again. She looked like an alabaster and chalcedony

statue, an idol waiting to be worshipped. This I did, kneeling

between her legs, kissing softly from her instep to her ankle, up

her leg, meeting the soft flesh of her inner thigh with my lips,

evoking answering shivers from her. I was teasing, delaying the

final homage of my lips while reeling in the heady scent of her

like a bee in an orchard. Finally my kisses found their way to

their destination. I spread her tender folds to expose her wetness,

and very slowly lowered my lips to suckle the nectar at the center

of her flower. She tasted of salt and peaches, with a faint hint

of honey. 

She let loose a deep contralto moan, one that semed to reverberate

in my very bones with its heavy load of sensuous arousal as I ran

my tongue tip from her opening to the small protrustion of her

hooded clit. I sank against her, kissing her open-mouthed, exactly

the same sort of kiss that I would have delivered mouth-to-mouth,

my tongue twining about and teasing her clitoris with feather-

light stokes. I could feel the trembling tension in her long legs

which she had wrapped around me. Her hands stroked my hair,

gradually stilling, then suddenly seizing me firmly to guide my

tongue all the better. She urged me on, the pressure of her hands

encouraging me to flicker my tongue more firmly and quickly across

her swollen clit. I worked my hands under us, sliding two fingers

deep into her open pussy. Again she let loose with that deep and

wrenching moan, and I could feel the goosebumps rising down my

spine as my own arousal edged up a notch with hers. She was

starting to gasp and make little mewling sounds now, and I kept

well in rhythm with her cries as I lashed her clit with my tongue. 

I removed my fingers from her cunt, causing a wordless cry of

dismay from her, but immediately set my other hand to the task of

stroking her pussy. Meanwhile, the fingers of my right hand were

now thoroughly wet, and taking a leaf from this beautiful woman's

own book, I began to tease her asshole with my slippery digits,

finally sliding a wet finger deep inside the tight opening. Now she

began bucking her hips wildly, driving her cunt against my mouth,

hands tight in my hair, thrusting hard to impale herself upon the

fingers which pierced her front and back. I had all I could do to

keep licking her hot cunt, fucking her ass and pussy with both

hands, and remember to occasionally breathe as well. I couldn't

control my own aroused reaction, and I was driving my own hips into

the mattress in time with her thrusts as well. Suddenly, she let

loose with a banshee cry, stiffening a moment and holding my head

tightly against her. I never let up on her engorged clit, licking

and flicking my tongue over it as fast as I could. The trembling

of her legs was like a tightly strung bowstring, quivering with

tension, and I was amazed to feel the rhythmic contractions of her

orgasms quite clearly via the finger in her ass. I had never been

so completely aware of a woman's orgasm before now, and the wonder

and sense of power this gave me pushed me over the edge into an

orgasm of my own.

I continued to lick her clit until she could unknot her fingers

from my hair, and pull me up to lay above her, holding her as she

shook with reaction. She said nothing yet, just kissed my neck

softly where she had buried her face in the angle of my shoulder.

I clung to her as well, certain that I had died and gone to heaven.

Making love to her had renewed my arousal, and I hadn't been able

to satisfy my needs by humping the matress earlier. I hoped that

she would do something about this in a moment, but the urgency was

past, replaced by a glow of contentment mingled with arousal. The

next time would be slower and more sensual, but equally passionate

and overwhelming in intensity, if our first pass at love was any



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