A lot of who you are in life today is an outcome of your experiences while growing up. I had my fair share of experiences to understand what gave me pleasure and to what extent, leading me to explore lesbian love.
I was 19 and in the first year of my engineering. Certain issues in the family meant I had to seek admission to the college closest to my house. The problem, and also a blessing in disguise, was that it was an all-girls college. That, too, one, where all had to wear a uniform.
I didn’t stay in that university for more than a year. But it helped me understand a lot about myself and a lot more about what gave me pleasure. The university was a vast one, with girls flowing in from across states. Some stayed in hostels, and some stayed nearby as I did.
I knew I did not have to continue here for more than a year at the back of my mind. So I was mentally prepared to explore and express myself through things that did not specifically fall under academics.
A lot was going in my head the day before. I was getting mentally ready for the first day at college. I was home, and on my bed were those crisp, new uniforms I had to wear. I got them from the university when I sought admission. I decided to try them on.
I had a separate room for myself. The air-conditioned room, just enough to make my hormones race the moment I stripped the first piece of cloth on me. Something kicked in as I took my top off. I wasn’t wearing anything beneath them. I got goosebumps.
I felt the urge to check myself out. I locked the closed door. I pulled down the curtains and stood in front of the mirror. And there I was, topless, firm breasts, wheatish complexion, not big enough then, but they were round and tight. The nipples hardened as soon as I ran my fingers on my naked body.
The goosebumps ran all through my body. Not that I haven’t seen my breasts or my body before. But that day, I looked at them with a purpose. I looked at them differently. Suddenly I felt the need to worship every inch of my skin. I let my hair loose. And ran my fingers over them through my scalp and arched my back.
I checked myself out in the mirror as I did so. Sigh! What curves! I had a wicked and satisfied smile. I ran my hands over my bare back, slowly gliding them down to my round and soft ass cheeks under my shorts. Fuck, it felt like I had to tear them apart then and there. I did.
I pulled them apart to my heart’s content. Pressed them, kneaded them, and even spanked them. My heart started beating faster, and my breath started increasing by the minute. I looked at my navel. They looked so deep that second that my fingers automatically went inside my mouth. I licked my fingers.
I was drooling so much at the moment. When I removed my wet finger from the mouth, a trail of saliva continued tracing the path of my finger. As if it had some other purpose, a drop of it fell on my nipples. ‘Fuck,’ was the word that came out of my mouth. Something I wanted right at that moment.
I dug my wet finger into my navel. Shit. That’s the day I knew navel too could give you pleasure, provided you value its presence. I kept digging it, and the squishy sound it made drove me crazy. By now, my pussy had started salivating too. And how eager was I to lick it?
Aaah! But I wanted to feel better. I kept running my hands over my semi-naked body, feeling every inch, feeling its softness. Sucking my fingers. Arching my back. Twitching my legs. Rubbing my pussy over my shorts. I spat in my navel. I don’t know why, but I was in the mood to get dirty with myself.
It gave me a different kick!
The perfume I wore intoxicated my senses even further. I pulled up a chair right in front of the mirror. I threw my legs wide open to the edges of the short dressing table. I saw my shorts roll up even further, revealing pretty much everything except for my pussy.
I looked at myself in the mirror and put my arms behind my head. I started licking my armpits one after the other vigorously as my pussy started to drip juices even more. I could sense my shorts getting wet. I now started fondling my breasts with one hand, and the other was being worshiped with my saliva.
I was losing my mind. I could hear my heartbeat out of my breasts. I started fingering my pussy over my shorts. My eyes closed automatically. My left hand kept pinching my nipples, and my right glided over my pussy’s wetness. The senses of my clitoris were at their peak.
Every touch of mine pushed me closer to an orgasm. I rubbed them ferociously. I could not take it any longer. I started biting myself around the arms. My smell drove me crazy. I wanted to cum and how. Fuck!
I wanted to remember this for a lifetime. I pulled my shorts down. Fuck, my pussy needed a plumber. It leaked like crazy. I thought to myself as I gazed at its reflection in the mirror and saw the sparkling wet pussy. I dipped my finger inside, scooped my juices with my finger, and tasted it. Divine.
I could have lived my entire life consuming just that I thought. I kept twitching my body, rubbing my clitoris like a maniac. Finger fucking myself. The sound of my fingers ramming my pussy filled the entire room. I wanted to cum big.
I jumped onto my bed. My bed back then was an old-fashioned yet sturdy bed that had four legs at each end. The slim round legs of the bed were inviting me. Never before had I done that. My hormones took over me. I went to the edge of the bed.
I stood with one leg on the bed, one on the floor, pussy spread wide open. And there I went. The moment my pussy hit the round legs of the bed, my heart screamed in pleasure. My pussy engulfed at least 6-7 inches of smooth wood.
“Aah, fuck,” I screamed softly. I lay down on the railing of the bed in extreme pleasure and slowly started to fuck the wooden piece. It created sensations I never thought existed. I moaned with every thrust. My pussy was throbbing as I went up and down.
I slowly increased my pace as if it were a real penis. Fuck! My throat dried. I kept fondling my breasts as I inched closer to an orgasm. I screamed on top of my voice. I came loads. My body shuddered. My legs became weak, and I started to shiver.
I cried in pleasure. My juices dripped down my thighs. I couldn’t move an inch. I held the railing in the same position, gasping for breath. I saw my uniform lying there on the bed as if secretly wishing for similar experiences in college. ‘The start was surely good,’ I thought. I closed my eyes as my sexual urges were satisfied by a lesbian act.
Next Part: Classroom Of Pleasures – Part 1 (The Meeting)