Free Story – Hot Wired

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She was afraid what would happen if she tried lezzy sex and didn’t like it… but her boyfriend inadvertently gave her a hint as to how to try it.

It was my boyfriend who gave me the idea and, in so doing, helped me make my uncertain, fumbling way into the world of girl-to-girl sex. Of course, he never meant to do any such thing. But, nonetheless, it was from him that I got the idea that made everything possible.

            There are two things you need to know before I tell you the story. First of all, I’d often wondered what girl-to-girl sex was like. The idea intrigued me. But finding out if the reality was to my liking was something entirely different. If any of my friends was bisexual, she certainly was keeping it a secret. And you can’t just go up to a perfectly straight girl—even a good friend—and say, “Let’s try lesbian sex and see if we like it.” So…who to try it with?

            Of course, I could always go to a gay and lesbian bar and let another girl pick me up…but what if, once we got back to her place and got undressed, I found lesbian sex wasn’t at all to my liking? What was I to do then? Say, “Sorry…I guess I made a mistake”? I don’t think so!

            So there I was, wanting to try lez sex but not knowing quite how to go about it. How was I to find out if it really turned me on…or if I was merely intrigued with the idea of doing something different and vaguely wicked?

            The other thing you need to know is that Jared—my boyfriend—travels a lot on business and is often gone for a week or two at a time. Now, Jared is one horny son-of-a-bitch. When he’s not out of town, we often have sex virtually every night. He really needs it a lot!—this is not a complaint, you understand!—but I often wondered how he managed when he was out of town. Did he really just jack off a lot…or was he cheating on me? Picking up girls in hotel bars or even using prostitutes to get his rocks off? So, one day I finally asked him.

            He looked like the kid who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Guilty. Guilty as hell. “Which is it—prostitutes or bar pick-ups?” I asked him.

            “Neither!” he insisted vehemently.

            “Then what? It’s something. I know that look! How are you getting relief out of town? What do you do?”

            He looked down at the floor. He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothin’ much,” he said, still not facing me directly.

            “Yesssss?” I asked. “Like…what?”

            “I’ve never cheated on you!” he said, finally raising his eyes to meet mine. “I’ve never had another girl since we started seeing each other!”

            “Then what do you do out of town?” I insisted, keeping my voice as level as possible. “What is it you don’t want to tell me?”

            He looked at me. He looked away. He shrugged his shoulders.

            “Well?”

            “I call one of those…services, y’know?” he finally said in a quiet voice.

            “Services?”

            “It’s not cheating if I’m not really with the girl! It’s just over the phone. We never…you know…get together. It’s just a phone call.”

            “Tell me more.” I was curious. I’d heard of phonesex services but didn’t know much about them. “How does it work? She…gets you off over the phone…somehow?”

            “Yeah. You know.”

            “No. I don’t.”

            “She…talks me through…you know…talks to me…talks hot to me. Till I get off. Anything I want. Even kinky stuff. Stuff I’d never do in real life. But on the phone…it’s safe.”

            I was interested in following that line of thought some other time…what was he interested in doing over the phone that he’d never do in real life? But right now I was off on another tangent.

            He’d said kinky stuff. Stuff you might not do in real life. Anonymous but hot encounters on the phone with girls who weren’t in the room with you.

            Do you see where this was headed in my mind?

            “Where do you find these services?” I asked.

            “They advertise in the national sex magazines and in newspapers and leaflets in some cities. Publications aimed at ‘adult entertainment’. Why…thinking of signing up to work at a phone sex service?” he teased.

            No…but he was closer to the truth than he realized. I was thinking of using a phone sex service. Thinking of having my first girl-to-girl experience by phone. If I blushed scarlet, freaked out, or got totally turned off, the girl at the other end didn’t have to know. And even if she did, she wouldn’t be angry. She wasn’t with me for her own pleasure. She was just earning a buck—a buck she’d have earned whether I got off with her or turned tail and ran.

            Two days later, having gotten the number of a phone sex service, I started to dial…and chickened out, hung up, then started to dial again. On the third try, I finally got through all the digits without hanging up. Then I was embarrassed to explain what I wanted. Another girl—for a bisexual hot phone call. Finally I got through it all—the explanation, giving my credit card number, the whole routine. And I was talking to a girl who called herself Pammy.

            “You’re going to have a good time with me,” she promised. “I’m going to make you feel sooooo good. Are your clothes off? My tongue is tingling for a taste of your body. Let me start at your neck and lick there. Mmmm, feel me licking the side of your neck? And now I’m working my way around to the front, the hollow of your neck.”

            “Get on my boobs!” I said, impatiently.

            “Mmmm, yes, nice, full, rounded ones, aren’t they? Do you like to feel a tongue flicking across your nipple? Can you feel the raspy bumps of my tongue as it flicks across your nice, big nipples? Feel me swabbing your nipples and leaving saliva on them…now I’m going to blow on it. Mmm? Feel the cool breeze?”

            I did feel the cool breeze. Though I felt awkward and self-conscious, I was beginning to get into the scene a little bit. “Mm-hmmm,” I said into the phone. “Keep going.”

            “Do you like having your tits sucked? Nibbled at?”

            “D-do whatever you want.”

            “Okay. Then let me swirl my tongue around your nipples a little more…mmmm…and now I’m closing my lips around your nipple and starting to suck. Mmm, such nice nipples. They’re getting hard, aren’t they? They’re getting nice and firm and pointy for me, aren’t they?”

            I looked down, touched one breast, and found that indeed they were getting harder and pointier. The areolae were crinkling up, and the nips were jutting out. I strummed one nipple with my own finger, imagining it was Pammy’s tongue. Suddenly I realized she was waiting for an answer. “Mm-hmm,” I answered, a little shyly. “Nice and stiff. Pointy. Just like you said. Do some more.”

            “I’m going to nibble on them now,” she said. “I’m going to scrape my teeth up the sides of your nice, big nipples, and feel all those lovely bumps. Such nice, firm, big bumps. My teeth are tantalizing them. Shall I bite down just a little? Very carefully! Mmm, firm tit-flesh. But I think that’s enough attention to your nipples. Don’t you want me to lick out your pussy?”

            “Oh, yes!” I was surprised at the ardor with which I answered her. My free hand was still playing with my nipples, helping them to feel even more keenly the actions she described, but now my clit began to throb, and I realized I was hungry to feel her down there. “Yes…lick your way down to my pussy.”

            As soon as I said it, I felt a blush spread across my face. Where had this newfound brazenness come from…and by the way, where had this lesbian lust come from?

            “Feel my tongue trailing down your body. I’m tongue-walking from your boobs down across your midriff, across your tummy, down to your bush. Mmm, nice fragrant bush. You smell like a woman in heat. Good. I like my girls hot for me. I like my lovers eager and steamy. Are you nice and juicy? Are you good and wet for me?”

            Was I? Hurriedly I traced the path she was taking, mimicking with my fingertips the path she had described, till my fingers landed in my pussybush. Then I slipped a finger between my fat, lust-swollen labes—a good sign!—and encountered the seeping wetness that testified to my turn-on. “Yes!” I exulted. “I’m drenched. I’m soaking for you. I’m a pool of pussy-fluids. Drink it all up.”

            Pammy laughed. “The more I drink up, the more will flow down. Feel my tongue scarfing up the love-honey from your slit? Feel me teasing all around your clit but never actually touching it? Feel me drinking up your fluids and lapping up every drop I can get?” And she made some kind of noise that sure sounded like a mouth at a very wet pussy—I don’t know exactly what she did, but the effect was very realistic, and a shiver raced all the way through my body.

            My finger was impatiently swirling around the area of my clit. I itched to touch myself right on my clitoris, to imagine it was Pammy’s tonguetip titillating me there. But I was remaining faithful to her scenario, and she wasn’t at my clit yet. She was deliberately avoiding it. So I did the same. But my whole body ached to feel her tonguing me there.

            At last she got to my clit. “Oooooh—so big. So swollen. You must be very, very hot,” her soft, female voice purred into   my ear. Suddenly something in me clicked. I began talking to  her.

            “Yes…I am hot…I want to feel your tongue on my clit…but I want to tongue your clit too. I want to taste your nectar. I want to feel the point of your clit under my tongue. I want to suck on your big, pillowy breasts and feel how soft they are as I suck on them. I want to burrow my face in your slit and feel your nectar coating my nose and cheeks and chin. I want to taste your syrup. I want to see how another woman tastes.”

            “First-timer, huh?” Pammy’s voice was sympathetic, understanding. “Let’s make this a memorable experience for you. You do anything you want to me.”

            “What do you like done to you? I never…I don’t know how…I don’t know how to please another girl.”

            “Probably the same things you like done to you. Give or take a few variations for individuality. But it’s real exciting when you know it’s another girl working over you. Let’s 69. That way you can feel my boobs pressing into you while I’m going down on you…while you’re going down on me. You’ll really know it’s another girl doing you. You can taste my tangy syrup…it’s really different from a guy’s pre-cum. Ever tasted your own? Ever put a finger to yourself and tasted your own stuff?”

            “Umm…no. Uh-uh.”

            “Do it. Do it now.”

            I did. It was tangy, sharp, but not unpleasant.

            “Do you like it?”

            “Umm…yeah. I think I do. Yes.”

            “What are you doing now?”

            “Tasting it again,” I admitted, licking my nectar off my fingers voraciously. “It’s good. I’m pretending it’s your pussy-honey. I’m pretending I’m licking     your slit.”

            “Tell me how you’re licking it. What are you doing?”

            My finger was busily skating over my clitty-nubbin now. It didn’t match the words we were speaking. I was too hot to care. As I talked to Pammy, I could just taste her sloppy slit—aided by tasting my own secretions off my finger, which I periodically removed from my slit so I could slurp them.

            “I’m dragging my tongue through your slushy slit,” I told her. “I’m tasting your pouring juices and soaking my face in it all. And now I’m putting three fingers up your pussy-hole and stroking the walls of your channel.”

            “Tongue me faster,” Pammy squealed. “Tongue me harder. I’m gonna come. I’m tonguing you faster too. Come with me! Come with me!”

            “Oh, yes! Yes! Yes, do it, come! Make me come! Get me off! I’m so hot! I want to explode. I need to get off. Make me orgasm!” I was gasping the words as I thrashed around on the bed, my hand wildly fingering my puffed-up clit with three fingers at once.

            Pammy sounded just as breathless and just as needful. She was gasping out the words she said, urging me to orgasm with her “Any minute…any second…here it comes…I’m gonna do it…I’m gonna…I’m… I’m…oh! Ohhhhhh!”

            And I came too, my fingers propelling my clit into explosion as my passion-wracked body writhed in the throes of a real body-shatterer.

            Afterward, I thanked Pammy. I felt suddenly almost shy again. “I really…I really appreciate…all you did.”

            “I really was your first, wasn’t I? It wasn’t just a scene you were playing?”

            “No. The truth. I swear. I’ve been wanting to try lesbian sex, but I didn’t know if I’d really like it or not. Now I’m ready.”

            “Call back some time. Be sure to ask for me.”

            “Thanks,” I said, “but I think I’m ready for the real thing now.”

            My boyfriend doesn’t know what he helped start with his admission he uses phone sex services. But maybe he’ll find out. Maybe once I find a female lover, she’ll be someone bi—like I now assume I am—and she’ll be willing to include my boyfriend in a three-way. That would be a nice way to pay him back for his help!