Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 03:43:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: Suzy Suburbanite <suzy999999@yahoo.com>
Subject: Getting Fucked By Mary/Understanding and Acceptance

(F/F, Adult Friends)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction by an author
using the pen name Suzy Suburbanite. It`s a story of
lesbian sex, so if that offends you, or is illegal
where you live, or if you're underage where you live,
then you must not read it.  It is a work of FICTION.

Thanks to all who wrote regarding Part I of Getting
Fucked by Mary.  With the exception of the jerk who
sent the e-mail virus.  I will try to get the next
segment out a bit faster...work and family permitting

enjoy,
Suzy

------------------------------------------------


Getting Fucked By Mary
By: Suzy Suburbanite

Part II: Understanding and Acceptance

Chapter VII

It was all a dream, right?  When I awoke from my nap I
stared at an unfamiliar ceiling, where was I?  Then my
activities from the afternoon flooded into my brain.
`I had done it,' I thought, `I had sex with a woman.
I was a willful participant in a type of physical
pleasure that was so wrong, but yet so right.'  I
looked next to me at Mary, snoozing peacefully, and
realized that this stunning creature had so thoroughly
ravished me that I could never deny my feelings...or my
response.  As my mind cleared, I found that I was now
completely naked, as was my bedmate. (Mary, being a
tender and thoughtful lover, must have stripped my
heels, stockings and garter after I dozed-off.)

The events of the past few hours came into focus: I
had willingly, no, actively submitted to a dominant
lesbian advance...and liked it.  I had tasted, for the
first time in my life, the flavor of a woman's cunt.
(Oh, that word.  That word alone inflamed me.  The
realization that I was thinking of Mary's womanly
treasure as a `cunt' inflamed me to even greater
heights.)  And, as my clarity became even more
rational I realized I told this woman, whom I had met
only a scant few hours before, that I `Loved her'.
What was I doing?  Was this reality or fantasy?  Shall
I sneak out the door now, or continue into this
blissful sexual abandon?  I was still much too excited
to think with my head.  I decided to stay.

I tried to sneak quietly from the bed we shared, but
Mary stirred and asked, "Where are you going darling?"

"I need to pee."

She quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and
exclaimed, "I thought you'd never ask."

I was confused yet again, as she grabbed my hand and
led me into the bathroom.

"Sit," she said, pointing to the toilet.

I was thinking that this was just too weird.  I hadn't
pee'd in front of another girl since high school.
"Sit dear." She was more demanding this time, and I
did as my teacher asked.  Was this to be some other
sex game?  I couldn't fathom why her being present
while I preformed this basic bodily function would be
fun...for either of us.

Mary straddled my lap and briefly humped her cunt
against my breasts.  I watched, fascinated, as her
pliant cunt lips spread to engulf my nipple...first the
left, then the right.  I could feel her cunt juice
lubricating and exciting my nipples.  Suddenly, my
need to pee disappeared, and my need to taste her
pretty, pretty cunt and the heady wetness it produced,
swelled.  She sat herself on my lap, grabbed my face
in both her hands, and said, "Piss my naughty girl.
Piss for mommy," and she forcibly kissed me.

My pee burst-forth, along with a healthy mix of my
pussy cream, as "Ma'am" tried to excite me by
caressing my nipples while she continued kissing me.
Soon after my pee started, I felt a warm, wet feeling
on my tummy, and I realized that Mary was pissing as
well; letting her warm urine spray onto my stomach and
flow between my legs into a confluence of my
acceptance and joy at being her lesbian slut.  Somehow
this truly depraved act didn't shock me.  It seemed so
natural for me to gleefully accept whatever gift Mary
may offer.

Chapter VIII

"Shall we shower?" Mary more stated than asked as she
looked into my eyes.

"Yes please "Ma'am," I said, realizing that I must now
smell like sex, pee and sweat.

I watched Mary's bottom wiggle across to the shower.
`What a beautiful bum,' I thought, `not a blemish on
it.  I wonder what is like to kiss her there.'  Again,
just as earlier in the day, my heart rate started to
race, and I felt shameful, even a bit guilty that I
was thinking of physically adoring this woman's rear
end.

"Kate darling, are you starring at my ass?"

"What? ...um...no...er...yes.  Yes I was."

"Pardon me?" was Mary's expectant reply.  "Are you
forgetting your manners already young lady?"

"No Ma'am.  Yes Ma'am," I stumbled over my tongue.

"No Mary, I'm not forgetting my manners.  Yes Ma'am, I
was staring at your behi...ass."  I thought that I
recovered nicely on my reply.  Mary's lessons in
lesbian love were starting to pay dividends.  At least
as I was concerned.  I was truly starting to enjoy our
student/teacher relationship, or as "Ma'am" was
increasingly inferring, a mother/daughter
relationship.  For now, I was very uncomfortable with
the "mommy" stuff, just as I felt uneasy when my
husband would occasionally do the "Whose your daddy"
thing during better times of our marriage.  Somehow,
Mary knew when to change the vernacular at a precise
moment to increase my sexual excitement, which left me
feeling not only exhilaration, but shame and
humiliation afterwards.  Was this her intent?  All my
husband ever left me with was revulsion and distrust
that he may have sexual designs towards our children.

As she said, "This will not be like sex with a man,"
and that was no misstatement on my dear teachers part.
Mary broke into a broad smile, and strode towards me.

She reached for my hand, and pulled me close in a
warm, satisfied embrace, "Kate, you're learning so
quickly," she whispered into my ear.  Still holding my
hand, we turned in unison and headed towards our
waiting shower.

Stupid me.  I glanced in the wall mirror on our way to
the shower, and stopped dead in my tracks.  `I look
like a rabid raccoon,' I thought to myself.  My
lipstick was smeared into a distended mass of uneven
shades of pink from my chin to just below my nose.  My
carefully applied eyeliner had bled-out around my eyes
to make me look as if I had not slept in a week.  And,
my shiny black hair was twisted, matted, and crimped
in a fashion that made my head looked like something
only "Picasso" could love.  I started to cry.

Mary spent the next twenty minutes getting me settled
down.  She told me again and again how beautiful and
sexy I am.  She hugged me repeatedly.  She caressed my
cheek, my hair and my breasts in an attempt to clam
me.  And most important, she told me over and over
that true beauty has more to do with the person inside
than any "bed head" or smeared makeup.

"Mary, will you please kiss me." I said sheepishly

"Of course I will my dear darling Kate; this is the
first time you've asked me to do something specific
for you, something that you need to feel good,
something that makes you feel right.  I'm so happy
that you're learning."  And my teacher, my lover,
gently kissed my lips and made my self-consciousness
melt away.

My loving mentor led me into the shower and we
gleefully began frolicking under the hot spray.  We
giggle and laughed like two school girls; poking and
stroking and taunting each others willing bodies.  We
soaped each other very thoroughly; Mary brought me
close to orgasm as she washed my pussy and bum.  I
made her moan in delight as I washed her cunt and ass.
 This was my first time to explore another woman's
cunt, and I traveled that sweet valley very slowly.
Her labia were much more pronounced than my own, her
clitoris was hidden under a large, fleshy hood, and
her hole...her cunt hole was open and juicy.

After I had rinsed her clean, I couldn't help but run
my fingers back into that pretty cunt.  I gathered her
cunt cream and brought it to my mouth, but Mary
grabbed my hand and directed my fingers to her mouth
and sucked them clean.  She gave me a quick kiss, but
I could barely taste her essence.  "Soon Kate," she
said, "you'll get to taste it soon."

Mary pinned me, breast-to-breast against the shower
wall and kissed my mouth urgently.  "Do you like to
have your nipples ravished my darling Kate," she
panted.  Without giving me a chance to tell her that
neither my breasts, nor my nipples do much for me
sexually, (a hazard of childbirth) she started to
caress the undersides of my boobs with the back of her
hands.

"Mary I ..." I tried to explain, but she had her own
ideas, thank goodness.

My dear teacher again stifled my input with her mouth
and tongue, and I fell under her spell of passion and
lust.  She raised her hands from the bottom of my
small, B cup breasts so that her fingers encircled my
nipples.  `OK,' I thought, `just like my husband who
always treats my breasts and nipples as if my chest
was some sort of radio dial.'  I started to feel some
disappointment that my girl lover would do the same.

Mary pulled away from our kiss and looked into my
pleading eyes, "Darling, I'm going to hurt you now."

I was lost in lust and did not fully understand until
my dear teacher pinched down hard on my previously
insensitive buds.  "Uuunngghh," I groaned as she dug
her strong fingers into my tender flesh.

The next action my tormentor and lover took made me
very aware of my breasts for the first time in many
years: she viscously twisted my nipples well past 360
degrees, pulled them outward towards my arms, and then
upwards, stretching my now sensitive peaks as she
stretched my mind.  My tits were on fire.  She knew
it, and now I knew it.  I suddenly found a
long-forgotten erogenous zone.  My boobies were now
well defined as a source of pleasure...and pain.

Mary leaned away from me and smiled a broad, happy
smile while I shuddered in a minor orgasm.

Truthfully, the last time I had any excitement from
anybody manipulating my breasts was in high school.
And even then, it was only mild sexual stimulation,
never any kind of release.

"Just lovely," Mary exclaimed, "Your nipples are so
lovely and long.  I think we'll have great fun with
these dearest."

I searched-out Mary's mouth again in a kiss of needful
passion.  Her words again reinforced her dominant
position over me; these words excited me, and
comforted me, and increased my resolve to continue
with my lesbian initiation.  I knew that I was going
to be her good little lesbian slut.

-------------------End of Part Two of Getting Fucked
By Mary

And who says suburbia is a cultural wasteland.

suzy999999@yahoo.com
Copyright 2002 Anonymous, Arlington VA USA