## Archive-name: carla

From: sgordon@svpal.svpal.org (Steven Gordon)

Subject: Carla (f/f)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

My first experience with sex of ANY kind happened when I was 14, my sister was 16, and she'd just returned from her first date. (I think we started dating a lot later than you, Lori.) I'd been curious about cocks for a couple of years. And I'd certainly felt the empty, tingling feelings between my legs. But other than squeezing my thighs together, I did nothing and knew nothing. And I'd been envious of Kathy's big breasts for quite awhile, too. o7 3 (Mine were just little buds.) But I can't say I had any sexual feelings for her or her breasts. At any rate, I'd lain awake waiting for her return, because her first date was really exciting for both of us. Under the covers and in the dark, she whispered to me all the little details. Unbeknownst to me, however, she was playing with her pussy while telling me her exciting story. All of a sudden, in the midst of the petting "struggle" at the park, she stopped and was lost in her first orgasm. I had no idea what was going on and was scared something terrible was happening to her. She stopped me from getting Mom for help (Wouldn't THAT have been something!?), then told me all about what had happened, how good it felt and what caused it.

I tried, but although it felt nice, it certainly wasn't a big thing to me. So Kathy came over to my bed to show me how. I'll never forget a single second of that night, Lori, nor the emotions each one carried with it. The first touch of her fingers on my pussy was the most glorious moment of my life. I soared. I loved it. And I can feel those same feelings today as though it just happened. (I've since learned that a man's touch is very much different from a woman's. I like the firm, strong touch of a man, but the soft, sensual touch of a woman is so special.)

Kathy had told me how exciting it was to have a boy squeeze your breasts (outside of your clothes, of course!), so as I became more and more excited, I began fondling the spongey orbs I'd envied so long. What a thrill. The softness. The fullness. And the obvious pleasure I was giving her. It just seemed natural to kiss and suck them, which I did while I humped against her hand. Her big, hard nipple was in my mouth when I moaned my way through my first orgasm. That was the beginning, and I could write two pages on all the beautiful feelings I felt that first time.

I really feel fortunate about all of this. Most of my friends took years to learn how to orgasm. But with Kathy's hand and words of encouragement and reassurance (I got scared when I started to lose control.) I was able to learn right away. Today I orgasm very easily and very often. In college I became multi-orgasmic.

Well, we were two very horny young ladies, thrilled with discovery and the wonderful, delicious feelings of being naughty, so over the next few weeks, we progressed to breast play, mutual masturbation and finally pussy licking. I flipped out over having my pussy licked. Kathy did it to me first, and I went through the ceiling. I could hardly wait to return the favor. What a wonderful, sensual feeling! Today I simply love to lay between a woman's thighs feeling the smooth wetness of her womanhood with my tongue and lips as I gaze up between her breasts to watch her passion. At any rate, it was a heady time. We were at each other every chance we could safely do so. We thought up all kinds of games to play, and even experimented with fruits and veggies.

(I knew I was going to get in trouble, Lori. My pussy is practically dripping with excitement. I've taken my shirt off to sit on so I don't stain the chair. The vibrations are up on my Butterfly, and I'm back to typing one-handed. My breasts and nipples wanted too much attention. I'm afraid I may have to take that orgasm break before long. This letter might take forever!)

But I had a little brother, too, who was two years younger than me. (I guess o7 3 he still is, isn't he?) Ever since I was about 12, his cock had been a fixation for me. I didn't know why. I just knew I was constantly curious about it. When we were wrestling, I could sometimes feel it - and sometimes feel it hard. I was forever trying to catch him in the act of dressing or undressing so I could see it. And I was always trying to spy on him when he was in the bathroom. But he was always so private that I couldn't see it - which, of course, made me want to see it all the more!

As I began to develop, I began teasing him to see if I could make it hard. I'd sit so he could see my panties or stand in front of the light so he could kind of see through my nightie. Sometimes I'd leave my door open when I changed clothes, then act surprised and mad when he saw me partially naked. Or I'd leave the bathroom door cracked when I took a shower in case he wanted to peek.

It was exciting to watch his reactions. I know part of the thrill was testing out my powers as a young woman. It seems he had a hard-on all the time, and I knew I frequently caused it. Sometimes I'd stand outside his bedroom door and listen to him jerk-off. Of course, I didn't know what he was doing, but I knew it was something he wasn't suppose to do. And that even made it more exciting.

(That's it. I can't take this any longer. Time for a break!)

(Well, it's another day. One orgasm wasn't enough yesterday. And after the second, I was too wiped out to continue. Today I thought I'd try one of my soft dildos while I type. There's no vibration, but I like the fullness. This is fun, getting naughty with you, Lori.)

Well, back to the story. After about six months of playing around with each other, Kathy and I decided to get Scott. By then she'd touched her boyfriend's cock when they'd made out, and she'd told me all about it. I'd told her about Scott, too, so we'd both been teasing him. And she told me what he was doing in his room. One night Mom and Dad were gone, so we put our plan into action. We really teased him that night while we watched TV. We wrestled with him in our nighties so he could "accidentally" touch us, and we really sat "sloppily." Then, when he went to bed, we waited outside his door until we heard the bedsprings squeaking.

At that, we rushed in and turned on the light. Sure enough, he was laying on his back, his hand wrapped around his little pecker. You should have seen his face, Lori! At first he was really mad at us, but Kathy got him calmed down and told him we'd take all our clothes off for him if he'd show us what he was doing. I was so hot from just seeing his cock that all I could do was stand there and shake. God, it was all SO exciting! After we watched him pump himself for awhile, Kathy said she'd let him touch her breasts if she could touch his prick. I could only take that so long before I had to get into the act. Kathy showed me how to jerk him off, and I made him shoot his spunk all over the place. Now THAT I REALLY loved! And at that age, of course, they never get soft, so we kept playing until we heard Mom and Dad drive in.

As long as we lived at home, the three of us had each other for love, comfort and fun. Eventually we taught Scott how to play with us and eat us, and we learned to suck him off. That's where we drew the line, but we certainly had hours and hours of loving fun. I like to think Kathy and I taught Scott how to be a superior lover, but I suppose I'll never know. Once each of us left home, the subject never came up again. o7 3

The only feelings I've ever had about all of that are Good and Wonderful. I've read where incest is suppose to make people feel dirty and become anti-social. It's hard for me to relate to that because I did well in school, was popular and never felt dirty at all. No one will ever convince me that what we did was wrong, because it was too good to be bad. It certainly brought us closer together - and there's always been lots of love. Although we agreed to stop at oral sex, I'll admit I wanted Scott in me very badly. I wanted him to take my virginity, and still feel it would have been better and more loving if he had.

But I'll admit I don't think about the social issues anymore. I've spent half my life worrying about my sexuality and the other half saying, "Who cares?" What I do in my bedroom is my business. I do know I don't fit any of the "This Is A Woman" molds. By any standard I've ever seen, I'm definitely over-sexed. I have very strong exhibitionistic tendencies, which fits the mold. But I'm also very visually oriented, and have a strong voyeuristic streak, as well. That DOESN'T fit the mold. Sexual guilt is almost foreign to me, and I'm more drawn to adventure than security in sexual matters. So I don't know where I fit in, but I don't worry about it too much. I know that other than the emptiness and lonliness of life without a woman since I've been married, I've had a much richer, fuller and happier sex life than most women ever will.

That first incident with Scott began my life-long obsession with cocks. I'm an inveterate crotch watcher, wondering what's behind the zipper, what it looks like, how it feels and things like that. Each size and shape has it's own special attraction, but I love them all. I love the way they look, the way they feel in me, on me and in my hand and mouth. I love their taste and their texture. And I love their warm cum in my mouth or on my face and breasts. One of my favorite fantasies is to be naked on my knees, surrounded by 5 or 6 naked 16 or 17-year-olds. I could go around the circle, giving each a nice, long suck; then lay back and watch them jerk off until they splash their hot cream all over my body. I know my chance of ever having that happen is gone, but oh, do I love the fantasy!

As bitter as I sometimes get with my husband's closed-mindedness about bisexuality, I'm very grateful for his understanding of my love of cocks. Every once in awhile he arranges a 3-some with another man. Have you ever done that, Lori? Those are such wonderful times for me. The "discovery" of a new cock. Two cocks to play with. And the devoted attentions of two men. I always feel SO female and so special. And I love my husband all the more for it.

Well, another book and still not enough questions asked of you. I can't believe how good it feels to be able to talk like this with someone. Maybe now that I've blurted all of this out we can move on to a better corresspondence. Write soon, Lori.

Horny for you,

Carla

Last modified (12/24/96 14:25:15) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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