A F-Fine Romance (FF Rom, 1^st)

By Hecate ( hecate@newsguy.com )

Working for Grades

Amanda and I were in the same classes at college. We both wanted to go to university and we both worked hard at our subjects: Politics and American and Russian History. It was our last year before University and our exams were getting closer. We had become good friends and decided that we would do our exam revision together at weekends.
Amanda's family were reasonably wealthy (her father was a diplomat of some kind and they had spent a lot of time in Kenya) and they had rented a house for her in London fairly near the college. She suggested that I come over after college on the Friday, stay overnight Saturday and till Monday, and go home after classes then. It would allow us to get a lot done so I readily agreed.
We had six weekends before the exams and thought we could probably get lots of revision done in that time. We needed to make the grades for University. Especially me, as I was intending to change to sciences when I got there. I would need really good grades to be allowed to do so.
The first weekend went really well. We got lots done. She'd set me up a bed in a small room and I slept quite well there. We had fun cooking for each other and setting each other different kinds of tests. On the first Sunday night she offered me a spliff*. I hadn't tried it before, but I thought why not, I could do with relaxing and that's what it was supposed to do. It was good. I got nice and mellow, and when we travelled back to college on the following Monday I felt we'd had a really good time and got a lot done.

An Interesting Weekend

During the week, we both felt our study was paying off, as tests seemed to show we were learning stuff and it was staying learnt. So I travelled back to her place again on the Friday. Since we didn't plan to work on Friday evening, we had a nice time chatting and listening to music. We passed around another spliff, and generally let the weeks work stresses go away. We both were tired, and mildly high, when Amanda said she was going to bed. I got up and she told me she'd changed my room. It was now upstairs next to hers. I said "Fine" and we went upstairs together. She showed me the new room. It was bigger than the one from last week and the bed was bigger and looked more comfy, too. She said goodnight and I just threw my clothes on a convenient chair and crawled in and was asleep almost immediately.
I was surprised in the morning to wake up to a hand gently shaking my shoulder, and Amanda whispering "breakfast" in my ear. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I sat up, but didn't pull the duvet* up with me. Bare-breasted, I looked and saw Amanda with a tray. I was going to pull the duvet up, but she put the tray in my lap and I couldn't cover myself without upsetting everything. She said she'd already had breakfast, but sat on the bed and chatted with me while I ate. I was a bit bothered about not being able to cover myself, but she was a woman and a good friend, so I wasn't too bothered. It was kind of nice actually. She made me feel really relaxed about it, though I did catch her eyes straying to my chest a couple of times. Quite natural I thought, though; we all like to compare ourselves with others.
She went to get ready as I finished off my coffee. We had lots to do that day, so I rushed off to the bathroom after she'd finished and got ready quickly, just slinging on some panties, jeans and a t-shirt. We spent most of the day working on our revision, just stopping for lunch and a couple of coffee breaks.
By six in the evening, we'd had enough. We went to make our dinner. Something with pasta if I remember correctly. Basically some tuna and whatever vegetables were fresh. We had a nice bottle of Chianti. But no fava beans. Then we went down to the pub for an hour or so, and we were both pleasantly plastered by the time we got back. We sat down in front of the television and switched something on for a mindless giggle before we retired for the night. Amanda and I sat giggling away at some imported "thriller" for a while, and then there was a late night film. I was getting quite tired by then, but Amanda said she wanted to watch it, so I said I'd keep her company for as long as I could keep my eyes open.

It was an old film called "The Odd Triangle". I realised what was odd about it quite quickly. It was an unusual story of girl meets girl meets girl. I sat up and watched; I was more awake now. I'd never seen a film like that before. I guessed that Amanda must be curious about it, too. I couldn't think of any other reason for her to be watching it. We were sitting next to each other on an old, but comfy, sofa. Tired as I was, I leaned into her slightly, and she put her arm across the sofa back so I could lean my head on her shoulder.
It felt nice, and I must have drifted off for a bit. I woke up a little later to see that the movie was still on and there were two women on screen kissing. I was interested, but so tired; I just had to go to bed. I noticed that Amanda's arm was now draped over my shoulder, and her hand rested on the top curve of my breast through the t-shirt. It was nice of her to have made me so comfy. She really made me feel at home. I carefully pulled away, and she smiled as I said I had to go to bed. I left her there, still watching the film.
I had some quite erotic dreams that night, and I remember that I kept seeing the two women kissing on screen in them. When I woke up, (again it was Amanda bringing me breakfast) I was quite aroused. I realised my nipples were rather prominent, but again, she plonked the tray down on my lap and I couldn't cover myself. Like Saturday we chatted for a while, and again I noticed she stared at my breasts occasionally. I wasn't stupid and I did begin to wonder a bit about her. She'd never said anything or been anything other than just kind to me, but I had a little nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I only dismissed it because she'd never said or tried anything with me. As I'd never had any sort of contact with another woman than as a friend, it never really made me think.
Sunday was another busy day, and nothing else happened that weekend to give me pause for thought. We worked hard again, and during the week, and then we were back together at her place on the Friday for the third weekend.

Third Weekend's a Charm

The Friday night had become our time to relax, and Amanda brought out a spliff again. We had a nice bottle of red wine and, again, I got nice and relaxed. We discussed what we'd do on the Saturday and she suggested we hire a film for her new video for the evening. Video recorders hadn't been out too long then and I was interested to see what it was like. She said she'd get something like we watched on TV last week, and I said OK, because I'd missed most of the film and was intrigued. Anyway, I'd probably have agreed to almost any film, relaxed as I was.
The night tailed off gently and we both went upstairs to bed. Amanda stopped before going into her bedroom and looked at me.
"Michelle," she said, "it's been really good having your company here, and it's really helped me with my studies." Then she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled and said thanks and went to bed. I didn't want to let her see that that one little kiss had made me tingle. My mind harked back to the preceding weekend and I began to wonder again. I thought about her and realised that she was quite attractive. Slim, but certainly not boyish, with lovely, long black hair, halfway down her back. Then I started to wonder about myself.
I had never had what you would call a relationship with a boy. In fact, at the school I went to, the boys there never seemed to like anyone clever, especially girls, and I always did well academically. So I kept out of their way after some unpleasant experiences. I had girl friends, and one or two boy friends, but no one I ever went out with on other than a friendly trip to the cinema say. Sexual pleasure for me was always something solitary, happening when I got too horny to ignore the feelings. Oh, I knew where everything was, and how it worked. I always liked to know everything about everything in those days. I had to find out for myself, as there was no sex education then (this was over twenty years ago) apart form biology and frogs. One look at a frog told me that it wasn't going to tell me what I wanted to know. So I found a nice librarian at our local library, and she steered me to the right books.
All this went through my mind as I lay there, wondering how I felt and what was going on. It took me a while to fall asleep, even though I was tired. Not through being apprehensive, more out of curiosity as to what would happen next.

Saturday morning was the usual ritual. Breakfast in bed and a nice chat. Only this time, I wasn't so concerned about covering myself. And this time, instead of her usual pyjamas, she just had on a bra and some shorts. I couldn't help looking either, and I know she was looking at me.
Somehow, I had come to realise that if something were to happen I wasn't afraid. Maybe, all that time of being by myself, of not touching or being touched, had created a need in me. Whatever happened I knew I'd let it. But, if anything did, it wasn't going to be me who made the first move. Frightened I might not be, but worried I was. I had no experience at all to tell me what to do.
The day seemed to pass really quickly for me. Oh, I concentrated on the work, but any look of Amanda's, any slight touch in passing, just made me shiver inside. It was really strange. I'd never felt like that before and I fretted that she would see my disquiet and not go through with whatever I assumed she'd got planned. I did catch her staring me at me several times and it just fuelled the fear.
I was glad when it came time for us to stop. We'd had another good day, and had bought some nice food and some wine for the weekend. Amanda went out to get the tape while I cooked, and everything was ready when she came back. Another bottle of wine, a burgundy this time, and we went into the sitting room with our glasses.
By then, I was thinking that I'd been imagining things again, and I felt such an idiot. My mind, I thought, was playing tricks on me. Maybe it was wishful thinking. I'd never felt so indecisive about something.
I don't think I ever noticed the title of the movie. It started with two women kissing and went on from there to scenes of writhing soft flesh. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. The only thing I really noticed was how horny and wet I was getting. Braless, my nipples were hard and poking through my t-shirt. I felt warm all over. I'm sure I must have been flushed, too. I sort of felt rather than observed that I was squeezing my legs together and shifting around on the sofa.
Which is probably why I didn't notice, at least at first, that Amanda had put her arm round me and was staring at me intently.
About half way through the film, I looked down and saw that my right hand had strayed to my left breast and that I was pinching my nipple. I started, embarrassed, and looked at Amanda, sitting next to me. She had a big grin on her face, and was looking as flushed as I imagined I did.
I said, "Er, Amanda, sorry, it's just the film, I was getting carried away I guess. Sorry if I've embarrassed you," and looked away.
With a smile in her voice, Amanda murmured, "Don't worry, Michelle. I think it's sexy what you're doing." And then, with a slight stutter, she said, "I c-could help, if you like, you know?"
This was the moment. I took a deep breath. Did I want this to happen? Was this what was missing from my life? I waited for what seemed like ages, though must've been less than a minute, before I let out that deep breath, looked round at her and, in a quavering but almost pleading voice said, "Please, I'd like that".
The wine had relaxed me quite a bit and I was proud of myself that I didn't jump as the arm that she had draped over me slid down onto my right breast. She leaned over and kissed me on the lips, while her hand was stroking over my nipple. Her tongue pushed against my lips insistently, and then I was kissing a woman for the first time. I think I almost came then. It was delicious. Beautiful. Wonderful. Magical. After a while we stopped and she whispered in my ear, "You watch the film. You don't have to do anything. Just enjoy the feelings..."
She got up and stood behind me, reached down and pulled my t-shirt off. Then she knelt in front of me, undid my jeans, got me to lift my bottom, and pulled them and my panties down in one go. Like I wasn't there, I just continued watching two women making love on the screen, tongues and fingers everywhere, juices flowing. Mine too. I had never been as wet as that when I got myself off.
I was conscious of everything she was doing to me, but my eyes were riveted to the screen. I could feel her hands stroking and fondling my breasts, and her mouth closing over my nipples in turn, sucking them to an even harder point. I felt one of her hands trail down my body and gently push my legs apart. Then the hand travelled up a thigh and I felt her fingers begin to play with my pussy lips. That alone was enough to make me come. With a loud scream, I surrendered to her. But she wasn't finished.
She kept whispering to me to watch the film and I stared at the screen, my body trembling with emotion and the sheer physical feelings she was giving me. I'd never thought about what might happen next, but as watched, on the screen, one of the women placed her head between the others thighs and began to mouth her pussy. At the same time I felt Amanda's breath on my cunt, and the touch of her tongue between my lips. That made me come again, but Amanda kept licking. I could feel the warmth of her tongue on my lips, then inside, then on my clit. Her fingers invaded my cunt and pistoned in and out of me. My cunt felt on fire and my body arched into her mouth as I had one long stream of orgasms.
I think I almost blacked out. I was a wreck. I couldn't move. I just lay there, my legs wide open, my body flushed, and the gleaming patina of cunt juice on my thighs. I could feel the warm glutinous liquid slipping down from my cunt onto my ass. I gradually opened my eyes to see Amanda sitting next to me, her face gleaming with juice, and with an amazingly big grin.
I was totally incapable of doing anything; I felt shattered. She assured me it didn't matter, and after a cup of hot chocolate each, we both went to our separate rooms to sleep. I gave her a big kiss before she went to bed, and hugged her, thanking her so much. I knew that from now on my life would be different. I still wasn't sure if this was what I wanted, but I thought that I was going to find out.

Breakfast on Sunday morning was different. Amanda brought me a tray as usual, and then left, to my surprise. But, a couple of minutes, she was back with another one and got into bed with it beside me. Before she did that, she shrugged off her dressing gown. She had nothing on underneath.
I cast my eyes over her as she deliberately took her time getting into bed. She looked so soft. She was slim, but not bony like those models you see who look like refugees. Her breasts weren't big, but nicely proportioned. I imagined touching her and blushed. She saw me and smiled, and then slid in beside me. It was so nice to feel her warm body next to mine.
We ate and chatted, but all the time I was aware of her body touching mine, and it was arousing me. Finally, I put my tray by the side of the bed and reached over and touched her breast. It was soft and warm, and I felt deliciously wicked. She held my wrist with her hand and looked at me.
"I only want you to do something if you really want to. But not now. We have to get our work done first."
She pulled my hand away, kissed the back of it, and got out of bed. I just stared at her as she padded across the floor. I couldn't believe her self-restraint. I was dying to make love to her.
The rest of the day was a normal one. We tested and retested ourselves, wrote practice essays, and quizzed each other. Again, we only broke for lunch. And all the time I felt myself throbbing with desire. My senses heightened, my hands itching to touch her. By the time we'd finished, and it was time to eat and relax, I felt I'd do almost anything. Which, of course, as I discovered later, was what she'd wanted. I was actually a mature student and in my twenties. She was a few years younger than me, just 17. But she had the advantage of experience, and she used it.
We made a quick meal, ate, and then she decided that we should go down to the pub again. I just followed whatever she said. I was desperate, but knew I wasn't going to be able to do anything she didn't let me do. We had a quiet drink in a corner of the pub. Just enjoying the atmosphere, talking about anything but what had happened. But I knew that something would happen when we got back. The way she put her hand under the table and kept stroking my thigh, right to the vee of my jeans, told me that.
By the time we left, I was a mass of jangling, erotically charged nerves. We walked back to the house, close but not touching, and in silence. I couldn't bring myself to speak and she, I'm sure, was just letting me stew.

When we got inside, she turned to me and said, "Would you like to go upstairs to bed? I know it's quite early, but we've got an early day tomorrow. And I'm sure we can find something to do before we go to sleep..."
My stomach flip-flopped and my mouth went dry as I stammered out, trying to look cool, "Y-yes, let's do that."
Her eyes flashed with laughter as she saw how I was trying to play along and pretend I was anything other than hot for her. She started upstairs and I followed, unable to keep my eyes off the swaying of her gorgeous little ass in front of my face.
I followed her all the way to her bedroom door. We went in and she closed the door behind us. She came up to me, gently pushed my hair away from my face, and kissed me. I kissed back hard. I was, by then, so turned on I wanted just to strip off and make love, but she kept the pace slow. It was incredibly erotic.
We undressed each other gradually, and I was embarrassed to find that my panties were stuck to me with all the juices that had flowed from me during what had seemed an interminable wait between the meal, the pub and here. But she didn't care. As soon as I was naked, she pulled me on the bed, naked herself, and we kissed again. This time I was able to run my hands over her body. It was something I'd never thought I'd do, and it was so emotionally satisfying, as well as being physically a turn on.
I started pleading with her to let me make love to her, but she wanted neither of us to be passive. So we began stroking and licking, fondling and caressing, until we both felt we were going to explode. Then she told me to get up on my knees, and face the other way. I did so and was looking down on her beautiful cunt as she slid underneath me.
She grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled me down to her mouth, so I followed her lead and put my head down to her glistening pussy.
I'd never had the scent of another woman's cunt in my nose before. Oh, I'd breathed in my scent on my fingers, but I wasn't at all sure what it was going to be like. It hooked me. The fragrance of Amanda, as I liked to think of it afterwards, added another level to the new sensations I'd been receiving. It became like a drug for me. And when I tasted her...I wondered why I'd been wasting all these years. I now had the sight, touch, taste and scent of her, and from what I heard, I must have been doing something right as I lapped at this delicious new hors d'oeuvre.
I was near to a climax by then, when I felt a finger move from my cunt to between my ass cheeks, and it slowly pushed into me. I'd never done that to myself, and it was a bit of a shock. Until she started slowly pumping the finger in and out whilst licking my clit. Instead of a shock, the sensation sent me over the edge, and I had to lift myself from her vee as I screamed incoherently. I came over and over as she kept licking and thrusting back and forth into me. I had to tap her thigh to get her to stop for a bit, otherwise I'd have been in the same state as the night before.
I bent down again, as soon as I could, and began licking her frenziedly. Up and down her cunt, then concentrating on her clit. Emboldened by what she'd done to me, I covered one of my fingers in her juices and fucked her ass with a finger, too. She began bucking, her body arching, pressing her cunt into my mouth. I just kept going, hoping I was doing enough. As I felt her juices coating my mouth and face, I realised that I probably was, and started to concentrate on her clit, sucking it into my mouth and flicking it lightly with my tongue. I felt her quiver and as she came, I carried on as she had. I experienced a feeling of power as her clit throbbed in my mouth and she came for a second time, followed by happiness that I could do something like this for her.
She patted my butt urging me to stop, as she seemed to have lots of repeated little orgasms in my mouth. I raised myself off her and turned round, lying down beside her. She got up on one elbow and leaned over me, kissing me deeply, and I tasted myself, mixed with her flavour, on my tongue. It was marvellous. We lay there for a while, in each others arms, just cuddling and gently caressing, and fell asleep like that, two warm, soft bodies in a lover's clasp.
The following day we had to go back to college, and I wouldn't be with her till the next weekend. During the week she had to go to the hospital and told me she had some problem with her blood. She'd had it since she was young, but it was no problem if she kept getting a check up and took the medication and ate right. She also told me that she would have to have another one as she was going back to Kenya for the summer.
I was very disappointed to hear that. I'd envisaged a summer of being with her as much as possible. There was no way I could go. So I just determined to enjoy the last three weekends and hopefully see her in the autumn when she got back before (and if) we went up to university. I was still glowing from the previous weekend anyway, so I just looked forward to the next.

A Waking Dream

The next two weekends followed a pattern. We'd work during the day and make love during the evenings and nights. She taught me all sorts of things, the most important being to tell her what I was really enjoying and what, if anything else, I would like to happen. Things that I'd dreamed of which I thought were beyond the pale, she readily accepted, telling me not to worry. We discussed our fantasies and our needs, our feelings and our desires. She opened my eyes to a world of sensuality I'd never imagined.
I found there was much I enjoyed and little I didn't. Like her, penetration was never something I particularly desired, though fingers and vibrators modified my view a little. We even tried a little bondage. It was excruciatingly sexy to be tied while the other person could do what they wanted to you.
Those two weekends, and the weeks in between, were little more than a blur of work and fucking. Surprisingly, we remembered both. And then it was the last weekend. We knew we wouldn't be in each other's arms again for a couple of months and the weekend was tinged with a bitter sweetness. We had to work, our exams were the following two weeks, but we made time for slow and gentle lovemaking. No games, just kisses and caresses and wonderful orgasms, as we drifted through on a cloud of passion.

Epilogue

I went home on the Monday, and we only met for the next two weeks, when there were exams. A smile, a glance, and the occasional squeeze of a hand were all we had. After the last exam, the lecturer took as all down to the pub and we contrived to sit together, holding hands under the table when we thought no one could see us. We walked back to the underground station together. Just before we separated, I couldn't resist, and in full view of other passengers I gave her a soft kiss on the mouth. Then she was gone.
We talked on the phone the day before she was due to fly out. She promised to send me a postcard and letters when she could, and said we could meet as soon as she got back.
I heard from her in the first week. Just that she was there, and safe. I treasured the two kisses she'd put next to her name.
A couple of weeks later, I received another postcard. This time it said she was ill and in the hospital, but I shouldn't worry, it was her old problem that had flared up a bit.
Then, nothing. I tried and tried to find out. I couldn't find out who her parents were; I had her last name, but it was fairly common. The house had been rented out to someone else while she was away, and the rental people would divulge no useful information. I cried. A lot. I hope it wasn't what I think happened.
I remember her every May and June, the time when we were together. I hope that she made it back. I hope Amanda is out there somewhere, making someone happy.
If you're listening Amanda, I loved you.

*Authors Notes:

1.  Just in case it's different elsewhere: A spliff is a joint, a roach, etc. And contains pot, cannabis, etc whatever you call it where you are.

2.  Duvet - is a quilt stuffed with, usually, feathers/down (or a synthetic material) and used in place of blankets and sheets. An idea imported from Scandinavia and very popular in the UK.