Date: Tue, 25 Jan 2005 20:25:50 -0800 (PST)
From: Lisa Summers <uarkfan2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: Ugly Duckling, Part 1 (F/F, mast, romance)

This is a work of fiction. It portrays sexual situations between
females. If you aren't supposed to be reading it, then don't. Please
support the free board that posts this, because they're pretty nice to
bring you such high quality literature for nothing. So, send them a few
bucks, okay? And please let me know what you think of it, by dropping me a
note at uarkfan2001@yahoo.com. I love to hear from fans of my work!

Works to date from Lisa Summers: "The Seduction of Lisa Summers" (parts
1-4), "Lisa Spreads Her Wings" (parts 1-3), "Karen," "Snapshots" (parts
1-4), "Spring Break at South Padre" (parts 1 and 2), "Jill and Laura,"
"Bush Pilot," "Heart and Sole," "Late Night Coffee Break," "My Pocket
Rocket," and "Sherilynn's Final Stop," can be found at www.nifty.org and
other fine free boards.

I'm so happy to return to these boards after several years away!
============================ UGLY DUCKLING

1. Ribbons

I knew that I was homely.

I knew, because my mother had been telling me that ever since I was a
little girl. There was something wrong with her to do that, true or not,
but she had her own inner demons that caused her to act that way, and do a
lot of things that just weren't right.

But, what could I do? I was a little girl, and a little girl believes what
her mother tells her, especially when she loves her as much as I did. So,
growing up, looking very good wasn't really a big concern. As my mother
once said, and I've never forgotten, "You can't shine shit."

Yes, that's what she said. To me. And about me.

I'll never forget my 8th birthday. I was SO excited to be able to invite my
friends over for a party, just like the other kids. I asked my mother if it
would be okay if I had a birthday party, and I was thrilled when she said
that she thought that would be wonderful. She added that she would take
care of everything, including inviting my friends, that it would be a
secret that she would surprise them with, and that I shouldn't "let the cat
out of the bag," as she put it, so that they could be thrilled when they
received their invitation.

The two weeks before my birthday were the most exciting of my life, as I
had to keep what was a big secret for a little girl, inside of me. Of
course, like most any other little child, I was only partially successful,
but happy that I only spoiled the secret by telling my best friend at the
time, Shelley Watkins. Every day, my mother would update me on the
preparations for the party, and even let me peek at some of the decorations
- they were lovely, ribbons and banners and balloons in pink and lavender
and white.

When I told Shelley, she shared my excitement, and promised to keep it our
secret, and she did.  The night before the party, I could barely
sleep. Finally, though, I did, and woke up the morning of my birthday eager
and ready for the 1 o'clock party, it being a Saturday. I helped my mother
put up the beautiful decorations, my favorite ones were the pink, lavender
and white ribbons of crepe paper that ran from the chandelier over the
dining room table to each corner of the table. I thought that they were the
prettiest things that I had ever seen, and that I would never see anything
so beautiful ever again in my life. As the time approached, I could barely
contain myself. I was so honored to share my birthday with my friends!

1 o'clock came and passed, and no one showed up. I began to grow restive
when there were no shows at 1:30, and frantic by 2 o'clock. My mother
looked at me blankly around 2:15 or so, and said, "I don't understand. I
mailed them their invitations, and several mothers called me to confirm the
time. Although......the ones who called back did say, that they'd TRY to
make it, but that they thought something more important might come up."

I was crushed. As more time passed, and no one appeared, or even called,
the gay decorations were like a bitter pill, reminding me that no one could
really love, much less like, me. It seemed that my mother's low opinion of
me was a universally held belief. Far from being the most wonderful day of
my life (up to that point), it was like ashes in my mouth, the beautifully
decorated cake sitting sadly among the ruins of the hung decorations, the
ribbons hanging forlornly now. I couldn't eat it, and in my grief I failed
to notice that my mother didn't bother to offer me any presents, presence
of guests or no.

It wasn't until later, much later, that I discovered that my mother had
deliberately NOT sent out invitations, had not contacted anyone about my
party, and, in fact, had told Shelley Watkins' mother, when she called to
confirm that there was indeed a party, and for directions to our house,
that there was certainly NOT a party, and that "Rachel is somewhat touched
in the head, she has delusions sometimes." When I asked Shelley the next
school day what had happened, she said sadly, that her mother had told her
to stay away from me, that "there's something wrong with you." Things were
never the same after that. Not for me.

So, I buried myself in studies and schoolwork, trying to excel in that
area, even if it WAS painful to look at me, and even if no one wanted to be
my friend. And I'm proud to say that I succeeded beyond my wildest
expectations in that area. I earned a scholarship to a highly rated,
religious- based university in California. For a girl from the Midwest, it
looked like it would be an amazing adventure no matter how it turned out,
as I'd never seen any ocean "live and in person," and the school was only a
few miles from the Pacific.

Now, in high school, while I'd never made too many friends or joined too
many organizations outside of academic groups, I still supported my
school's activities, going to all the games and cheering our teams on. They
weren't anything special, but it was fun to watch them try, and I took a
little lesson from that. I should always try my hardest, even if I DID
fail.

But anyway, about midway through high school, I went through a BIG growth
spurt, and from a homely, skinny little girl, I grew to a homely teenager
with B cup breasts, and an actual round rear end, like the other girls. I
could see I was getting looks from some of the boys in the hallways, but I
could hear them using words like, "...bag over it..." followed by derisive
laughter, so, while my body was attractive, apparently my appearance was
not.

But that was okay with me, because while watching our basketball and
football teams try, and usually fail, I found my attention wandering to our
female cheerleaders. Their long, slim legs, full breasts, round bottoms and
frankly, beautiful faces were continually drawing my eye. Soon after, I
found that my eyes, usually cast downward at the floor in the hallway, were
now resting on some approaching girl's breasts or her ass as she walked
away. While boys were looking at me and laughing, I was looking at girls,
and appreciating their beauty, even if they weren't "beautiful." I also
discovered masturbation then, and after a few abortive attempts at
fantasizing about Brad Pitt, I found myself fantasizing about Nicole
Kidman, or Hillary Swank, and other beauties, and it wasn't at all long
before I discovered the shattering orgasm that began to follow the pleasant
tingling sensation I was familiar with.

I'm not stupid, of course, it was becoming obvious to me that I was
attracted to females.  I felt guilty about that attraction, but I thought
that I wouldn't ever be attractive to any lesbian, just as I wasn't
attractive to boys. I certainly didn't think of MYSELF as being lesbian. I
guess I just figured I was asexual, as I thought I was supposed to be
attractive to "get a guy," and I knew THAT wasn't gonna happen.

So, I dressed really plainly, wearing blah colors, longish skirts and
dresses, slacks a lot, plain blouses or shirts. I certainly wasn't drawing
attention to myself. No makeup, as some boy had once said something about
"lipstick on a pig," and, to be honest, it had hurt to hear that, try as I
might to ignore such gibes. I let my hair hang down, not doing anything
with it other than tying it out of my face so that I could see. It was
long, and smooth, I guess I figured pretty hair could cover my ugly face.

Well, the big day arrived. A celibate Rachel (that's me), arrived at the
University on a late August day for freshman orientation, registration and
move-in. Of course, I had to make the move myself, as my mother would have
none of it (as she considered me to be a loser), and truth be told, I
didn't want her to be there anyway, so I was spared the conflicts and added
stress.

I was assigned my classes, all intro level courses, then moved over to the
dorm room assignments. I stood patiently in line with the other freshmen,
and when I got to the head of the line, the senior level student behind the
table acted as though I weren't even there. She was cute, all dressed up,
and proudly wearing a flashy engagement ring. She fussed with some papers,
continued to ignore me (or at least remain unaware that I was there) and I
had to cough lightly to let her know I was there.

"Yes," she said, looking up. "What do you want?" I was crestfallen. To the
others she'd said, "How can I help you?" or similar things. With me, it was
"What do you want?" But then it occurred to me that college was a break
with my previous life and, while I might still offend her sense of fashion
or beauty (or both), I had to start making a stand for myself if I were to
survive.

So I said, "What I WANT is for you to get off your fat ass, run your
manicured fingernail down that clearly typed list in front of your
beautiful, but blind, eyes, pick out MY name, Rachel Jones, which is also
clearly displayed on my `Hello, My name Is' badge, tell me which room I
have been assigned, give me the generic package of freebies that you have
sitting in that big box by your shapely leg, and then move on to the next
freshman, this young man right here behind me with the thick black glasses
held together by a band aid. I see that his name is Matthew Chris.  Get
hopping!"

Her jaw dropped open as the freshmen around me began applauding and
cheering. She closed her mouth, then frowning, found my room assignments
and gave me my material. "Well, you don't have to get snippy," she said as
I accepted the material. "Thank you," I said, and smiled sweetly at her. As
I walked away, I began breathing again. Let me tell you, THAT performance
was entirely out of character for me!

I looked for "Madison Hall," where my room was located, and wondered who,
or what, I'd be paired up with. At the college, they had a practice of
pairing freshmen with upperclassmen wherever possible, as a means of
integrating them into the student body. I got to the 5th floor, and found
room "C," my assigned room. I unlocked the door to find a smallish bedroom,
with matching twin beds, desks and counters along the wall, small dressers
on each side, and two small closets. One side of the room, almost following
an invisible line, was virtually a total mess, with girls' clothes strewn
all over it, mementos and kitsch on every flat surface, pictures of a
happy, smiling family in various exotic parts of the world, and numerous
stuffed bunnies (the fake kind). The other side, completely bare, except
for the furniture.

"I guess that's my side," I said to myself. I carried in my bags and boxes,
which I'd had shipped in before hand (no tearful separations for MY
family,) and started putting stuff away. I had a few mementoes, and
pictures of my late father, and one small picture of my mother and I, in
happier times (before I got so homely.) I finally got my stuff settled in,
and felt a sharp pain in my intestines. "Whoops, gotta go bathroom," I
said, then left the room, closing the door and searching for the bathroom.

I found it down the hall, a group bathroom much like group bathrooms
everywhere, with 6 toilet stalls, 6 small shower cubicles, 6 wash basins in
a long vanity counter, with a long wall mounted mirror above it. I hurried
into one of the stalls, pulled down my jeans and panties, and let nature
take its course. I heard the door open while I was waiting, and someone
walked over to the vanity, where I heard splashing. I finished, cleaned
myself, then exited the stall, walking over to one of the wash basins.

Already standing there, washing her face, was a petite blonde in a wrinkled
sweatshirt and shorts, and sneakers. Her face was hidden behind her hands,
as she was in the process of rinsing off. I turned on the water to wash my
hands as she brought her hands down, and turned to look at me. Even with
water dripping off her face, her blonde bangs wet and stringy, and wearing
a grungy, sweaty outfit, I knew that she was the most beautiful girl I had
ever seen in my life.

"Oh, hi!" she said perkily, smiling at me. "You must be one of the
frosh....right?"

I had to consciously close my mouth. I couldn't believe I was in the
presence of a super model (one who WASN'T anorexic), and it took me a
moment to catch my breath. "Uh, yeah," I said.

"Well, welcome to Madison," she said. "We call it....you guessed
it.....'The Madhouse.'"

"Thanks," I said. I was SO nervous! "Gotta go," I said, exiting as fast as
my feet could carry me without tripping. I headed down the hall toward the
room, and turned the knob. Well, TRIED to turn the knob, but it was
locked. "Oops, gotta use the key," I said to myself.

The key.

The key that was sitting on the dresser next to a picture of my father. Oh,
great. I'd now have to get someone to unlock the door. If that trip somehow
took me back to that sorority queen at the registration table, my face was
going to be bright red!

I slumped down onto the floor, my back against the wall, to think about
things. Maybe there was an RA already around, who'd have a key to let me
in. The RA's room number was in my paperwork.

In my room.

The room that was locked, with the key on the dresser.

I was pondering this turn of events, when the bathroom door opened, and the
blonde walked toward me. "Problem?" she said.

"Yeah, I locked myself out of my room. I don't know where, or who, my
roommate is, and I don't know which room the RA's in and I CAN'T go to the
registration table-"

"Whoa, there," she said. "You're going to give yourself hiccups!"

"Yeah, well, I've gotta get in. I guess my roommate's gonna think I'm a
real stupid freshman.  Ugly and stupid's no way to go through life," I
said, partially as a reflexive defense to her probable conclusion that I
was an Uglo-American, and partially as a tribute to Dean Wormer, in the
movie Animal House, one of my favorite movies.

"I don't think you're ugly," she said. "You might be stupid, but you seem
pretty smart so far to me. Besides, that's my room. I mean, our room. So,
I'll let you in." She grinned at me, and I couldn't help but grin
back. Holy cow, a beautiful girl as my roommate! I hoped she wasn't stuck
up, she seemed okay so far. I got up and she let me in, following me in to
the room. I turned quickly to thank her, and was surprised to find her eyes
on my butt. I dismissed the thought, figuring she'd been looking at
something else.

We got to talking, it turned out her name was Kira Sterling, and she was a
cheerleader for the school. If you're thinking like Dallas Cowboys
cheerleaders, remember, this was a religious based school. They wore
relatively revealing outfits, lots of leg and the ones with big tits got to
show them off, but no bare midriff or unnecessary beaver shots. Still
plenty sexy though, as I observed over my 4 years there.

She was a sophomore majoring in theology. "I'd like to become a pastor,
believe it or not," she told me. I told her that I was undecided, but kind
of thought I might get a degree in economics.  "You must be really smart,"
she said. "I took an Econ class first semester, and I didn't have a clue
what they were talking about. I dropped it for a marketing class."

Kira told me all about her family, about how close they were, and the
various trips they'd gone on. When she asked me about mine, I
hesitated. "What's the matter?" she said. "You looked so sad when I asked
about your family," a look of concern on her face.

"It's just that....my father died when I was pretty young, and life with my
mom was pretty rough." I couldn't believe I was spilling out my heart to
her, someone I'd just met. By the time I was through, I could see tears
welling in her eyes.

"I can't believe she said those things to you about how you look! And
they're just not TRUE!"

"They're not?" I asked.

"See, you grew up with that crap, so you never thought to question it. I
bet if you just learned a few things that every other girl already knows,
you could get a look on, girl!" Kira smiled at me, and I smiled
back. "Well, thanks for cheering me up, I'll think about it," I said. We
went to our own sides of the room, and began attending to our own
responsibilities. I was looking through my books, which had cost a small
fortune, and Kira began putting her clothes away. Later, Kira invited me to
go with her to the cafeteria, and we ate together, she introduced me to a
couple of her friends.

A week later, we went to a dorm meeting in the lounge on the first floor,
where the RA went over the ground rules. Just think a normal 1950's college
and the rules in 2000 were the same. No guys in the dorm outside of the
lounge, no liquor, etc. Kira and I went upstairs after watching TV, and got
ready for bed. I usually wore flannel pajamas to bed, they weren't exactly
sexy, but who would care? They WERE comfortable.

Kira stripped down to her panties, and took off her bra. "God, those things
are uncomfortable," she said. "But you can just imagine what the faculty
would say if your nipples started poking out of your blouse, huh?" I had
had plenty of chances to steal peeks at Kira by this point. We'd been
roommates for a week, now, and I guess I probably had a crush on her, if
only for her willingness to be friendly to me. But honestly, she WAS the
most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. 5' 0" tall, 110 pounds, medium-blonde
hair that she always had tied back in a ponytail, cute snub nose, even
white teeth, a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose,
sparkling blue eyes, a constant smile, long, graceful neck, shapely 34 B
breasts, with the loveliest small pink nipples, a flat stomach, nicely
rounded hips and full butt, a moderate thatch of curly blonde hairs in a
natural v-shape at her pussy, slim thighs and calves, pretty, smooth feet.

So seeing her in her usual nightly get up of cotton panties, usually with
some kind of little animals on them (tonight was teddy bears) wasn't
unexpected, but a constant, small pleasure for me that, in honesty, gave me
fuel for masturbating sometimes when I was alone in our room, or in the
toilet stall. Something about her that night, though, got me wet almost
instantly. I could feel a warm tingle between my legs as we said good
night, and she turned off the light.

I lay there, awake, for what seemed the longest time, in the dark. Thoughts
of the lovely Kira ran through my brain. Her body seemed to take up every
bit of RAM (sorry, I was taking Intro to Personal Computers LOL) in my
head. Eventually I heard soft snoring coming from her side of the room.

I snaked my hand under the elastic band of my pj bottoms, over my
thankfully flat and smooth stomach and `innie' belly button, then under the
thin elastic band of my plain white cotton panties, through the patch of
curly brown pubic hair above my own slit, lightly touching my sensitive
clit, my legs jerking slightly already from the contact, to my labia on
either side of my pink slit. Moisture had already gathered inside my pussy,
and with the contact of my finger tip touching the silky interior walls,
the moisture ran down to the part of my opening closest to my rear end.

My vagina gratefully accepted the intrusion of my slim finger, and I slid
it in all the way up to my hand, until it could go no farther. I hissed my
breath out at the thrill of pleasure that ran through my body, and I
fantasized that it was Kira sliding her finger inside me. I wanted her
deeper inside me, and more of her. I whimpered as the finger slid in and
out, faster and faster, and as my thumb stroked across my sensitive clit, I
groaned, and whispered "Kira," cumming again and again as waves of ecstasy
splashed over me. My body quivered with my multiple orgasms, momentarily
kicking off the blanket and sheet, exposing my hand thrust down inside my
pj bottoms. I lay there supine for a few moments ( I thought), then awoke
some time later with the realization that I'd fallen asleep. My pj bottoms
and panties had slipped down over my hips, my pussy clearly exposed, my
finger coated with my fluids. I pulled up my panties and pjs, then I looked
over at Kira. By the dim light from the Snoopy nightlight we'd won at the
Student Carnival earlier, I saw that she was asleep, though she'd also
kicked off her coverings, her perky breasts so attractive and erect even in
that dim light, her own hand between her thighs, though outside of her
panties (of course). I gazed for a few moments at her beautiful, slim,
feminine form, wished that I were so lucky, then hurriedly readjusted
myself, pulling the covers up and finally returning to sleep.

The next morning I woke up some time after Kira, as she had an 8 o'clock,
and my first class wasn't until 9. I opened my eyes to see her standing
over me. "Good morning, sleepy head," she said cheerfully. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," I said. "How `bout you?"

"Oh yes, wonderful dreams, though I really can't remember them now, and I
slept like a log," she said. She looked at me thoughtfully, but didn't say
anything, until I felt compelled to say, "What?"

"Nothing," she trilled, then, opening the door said, "Have a lovely day,
sweetheart." As she exited I sat wondering. Kira often used endearments
with me and her friends, like `Sweetie,' but `Sweetheart?' Perhaps I was
reading too much into one word.

I found myself going to all of the school's football games, not to watch
the players, but to watch Kira. I think I was her biggest fan! She looked
lovely in her cheerleader outfit, and when she saw me in the stands, she
gave me a wave, and gestured to me to come down to where they hung out.  I
told her that I thought she was really great, and went on like that, then
realized I was babbling, and my face turned really red. Kira thanked me,
and hugged me. I felt so loving to her when she did that.

I fell into the academic schedule I was used to, with the added fillip of
Kira inviting me to various events at school. I went to some of them, and
had fun, but the greatest fun was from watching Kira smile and laugh as
she'd joke with, and talk to, the other students. Kira didn't seem to have
a regular boyfriend, though she'd occasionally go out on dates with various
boys.  Of course, at a religious school, the dating didn't normally get
serious.

The big event on campus in October, of course, was Homecoming. Along with
the required football game was a small parade, and a Homecoming King and
Queen, and their Court. I was thrilled when Kira was selected as a
"Princess" of the Homecoming Court, the only sophomore so selected, and a
testament to her popularity and beauty. Kira asked me to help her get
dressed for the coronation ceremony that night, which I happily did.

Kira and I had gone shopping and after much walking, and window shopping,
and comparing of styles, and colors and fabrics, we finally found a lovely
knee length, scoop neck formal gown in Duchess satin and chiffon that we
both especially liked. I made sure that her dress was nicely laid out while
she showered in the 5th floor bathroom. She came walking into the room
after showering, with a bath towel wrapped around her, and my heart skipped
a beat at seeing how pretty she was, before she had even put on any makeup,
in addition to the lovely leg show she was giving me, entirely
unconsciously.

I was happiest when Kira acceded to my suggestion to weave long, thin pink,
white and lavender satin ribbons into her long, blonde hair, and in
conjunction with her pink and ivory formal gown, the effect was simply
smashing. There was no doubt that she'd be the most beautiful woman there,
and I sincerely wished her as much happiness as possible.

"You're coming too, right Rachel?" Kira asked anxiously. "I won't enjoy it
at all unless you're there."

"Oh, I wish I could make it," I lied, "but I've GOT to finish this paper if
I want to keep my scholarship." But Kira would hear none of it.

"If YOU don't go, then I'M not going to go!" she declared.

"But you're part of the ceremony," I pleaded. "You HAVE to go!"

"Which means YOU have to go," Kira countered.

"Alright, I'll go. I promise," I lied again. "I'll see you there." Of
course, I knew that this joyous occasion was not one suitable for an ugly
duckling like me, but that Kira should enjoy all the glory, and happiness,
she had coming to her.

"Okay, then," Kira said, with a relieved look. "It really WOULDN'T be
enjoyable for me if you weren't there!" I felt badly about lying to her,
but I knew that once the party started, she'd be okay and forget about
me. When she left, I returned to my studies, and tried to put her out of my
mind. I pictured her having a wonderful night, dancing with the boys there,
a night that she'd never forget. Sweet Kira deserved no less than total
happiness.

I dozed off, and woke up when I heard the door bang open. "Rachel, where
were you?" Kira cried. "I looked, and looked and looked, but I never saw
you! What happened? Are you alright?"  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes,
and said, "I'm really sorry Kira, I got caught up in my paper, and then
dozed off. Let me look at you," I said, trying to change the subject.

"You look absolutely stunning," I said, which was no lie. All of her was so
exquisite, but her beautiful, blonde hair, with the pastel ribbons
streaming in it, was breathtaking to me. "Tell me who you danced with."

"Well, I danced with Rob Turner, the halfback on the football team. You
know, the one who's trying to grow a moustache?" We both giggled at
that. He wasn't being very successful at facial hair.

"And, who else?" I said.

"That was it, just Rob," Kira said with a slight frown.

"You danced ALL NIGHT with Rob?" I said. "Spill it girl, I didn't even know
you'd ever dated him, and you all hooked up?"

"No, far from it," Kira said with a snort. "He put his hand on my ass as
soon as the dance started, and kept sticking his leg between my
thighs. Christ, what a rutting donkey!"

"So, what did you do?" I said. I hadn't a clue what I'D do, but I also knew
I'd never be in that situation, either.

"I just went outside, and looked at the stars, and thought....about stuff,"
Kira said, looking me in the eyes now. Her eyes were so intensely,
heartbreakingly blue, that I felt lost in some remote corner of the Pacific
Ocean. I felt uncomfortable and turned back to my study desk, and sat down.

I heard Kira move over to her side of the bed, then begin taking off her
dress. I heard the rustling of the chiffon as she carefully laid it out on
her dresser. She slipped on a silk blouse over her lace bra, but just wore
her white lace panties, with no bottoms. Her feet were barefoot, her
toenails pink (her polish of choice), her fuzzy bunny slippers she usually
wore around the dorm on the other side of the room. "Rachel, I'm worried
about something," she said.

"What?" I said.

"It's my breast, I think there might be a lump or something."

"Oh no!" I replied.

"Could you....could you feel it, and let me know what you think?" she said.

"Okay, sure," I said. Kira sat next to me on the bed, as I sat in the
chair. She looked into my eyes, and smiled shyly, then slowly began
unbuttoning her blouse, first the top button, then each button down, until
her blouse was unbuttoned, but still closed, just a small patch of her
white lace bra visible through the opening, my eyes drawn to it. Kira
nervously flicked her hair back over her right ear, biting her lip
nervously, her eyes leaving mine momentarily. I guessed she must be nervous
about what I'd find.

She brought each hand to the opening of the shirt, and pulled it back,
exposing her beautiful bra- covered breasts and her lovely tan skin. She
had a faint, light dusting of freckles like those on her nose, between the
mounds of her breasts, just above the white of her bra. I so wished that I
could kiss her there, then. Her breasts heaved with her nervousness. Her
eyes had returned to mine, and she was smiling again, proud of what she was
offering me. She slipped the blouse completely back and off her shoulders,
then off her arms. She was now completely bare above her waist, except for
the white lace bra, which jutted out from her full twin mounds.

The bra was over the shoulder, with a rear hook. Kira reached behind her
back to unhook the bra, which pushed her lovely breasts even closer to
me. She gave it a jerk, as she pulled the hook and eye apart, then brought
her arms forward again, the bra falling off her breasts as the pressure
holding it there disappeared. The straps of the bra ran down her arms, over
her hands, the bra a small white puddle at her feet.

My eyes were on the bra, on the floor. I was suddenly terrified to look up,
at those beautiful breasts that I'd dreamt about so much. I could visualize
their roundness, their softness, the pale skin that hadn't been kissed by
the summer sun, her small, pink nipples so perfect. Would they be stiff,
perhaps sticking out towards me, begging to be kissed and licked, taken
into my mouth where I could suckle them, surround their pebbled roughness
with my soft, warm tongue, smelling her feminine aroma as she offered
herself to me? No, I couldn't do it.

"Umm, uhh.....I'm not sure-" I began, but Kira interrupted me.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, you were studying and I just sprung that-" It was my
turn to interrupt her.

"No, I'm sorry, you're asking for help, I'll be happy to-" I looked up and
saw those perfect, perfect breasts, her lovely sweet pink nipples, her
faint pulse reflected in her left breast's nipple, as it moved so slightly
with each beat of her loving heart.....and I was struck speechless.

We must have been like that for hours, my eyes fastened on to a small part
of the perfection that was Kira, Kira smiling at me expectantly. But only
seconds later Kira saying, "Well, you can probably tell better if you feel
for it."

"Huh?" I said. "Of course, which one was it?" I asked, in as professional a
manner as I could summon.

"Right here," as she lifted up her right breast with her right hand, then
lightly rolled her left hand across the warmth of the flesh. "Well, I
THOUGHT it was here. You try it." I felt my hand shaking with nerves as I
brought it closer to the round, swelling warmth of her full bosom. My hand
clumsily pressed into her womanly flesh, then crashed into her stiffly
erect delicate pink nipple, as I sought to place my flattened fingers
against the spot she'd indicated. Kira groaned quietly, and I pulled back.

"Oh! Did I hurt you?" I asked.

"No....no," she said. "Umm, roll your fingers across here, and tell me what
you think, okay?"

I returned my fingers to her breast, its warmth welcoming me. I pressed and
rolled my fingers across the skin and tissue underneath, but felt nothing
unusual in the area. "Kira, I think, umm, it feels okay. I mean, I don't
feel anything like, unusual."

"That's funny," she said, "I'm sure I felt something before. Let me try it
again." She rolled her fingers across both breasts now, her nipples stiffly
erect. I ached to take them into my mouth.  "No, nothing now, but then I'm
not very good at this. Do you check your breasts, Rachel?"

"Yeah, pretty often," I said.

"Would you mind showing me how you check yours?" Kira asked
innocently. God, I was torn.  Part of me wanted to flash my breasts to
lovely Kira, and have her caress them with her gentle hands. Part of me
wanted to run and hide with my shame and embarrassment. "But, you're here
in college, Rachel," I thought to myself. "You've got to be adult, you've
got to get over your looks, and just GROW UP!"

"Uh, sure," I said. I pulled up the tee shirt I was wearing, over my head
and set it on the desk. I reached behind to loosen the clasp on my bra, and
had trouble reaching it. "Here, let me help," Kira volunteered, and I felt
her warm fingertips brushing against the smooth skin of my back, as she
fumbled with the hook. "Uh. There. Got it." She said, after some time. I
had very much enjoyed the contact of her fingers with my back, and groaned
from the simple pleasure, not even so much a sexual one, but contact with
another human.

"Need a back rub, Rachel?" she asked.

"It DID feel nice," I admitted. Shrugging off my bra, I put it on the desk
next to the shirt.

"Here, lean back a little and I'll run my fingernails across your back,
massage you a little, okay?  It's marvelous for releasing tension," Kira
whispered. I did as she asked, and experienced the thrill of this beautiful
girl's fingers drawing tension out of my body. Her fingers traced a
progression along my spine, always downward, then out an inch or two, still
downward, pressing, rubbing, kneading....I felt myself melting, melting,
like a snow woman basking in the rays of the early spring sun, only to find
herself disappearing. I, too, was disappearing into the pleasure, and
comfort of Kira's wonderfully strong hands.

My perception of the light and world around me began fading, as though
progressive tunnel blindness had hit me and torn through me in a matter of
minutes. As from a distance, I heard Kira, sotto voce, "Let me get a little
closer, so that I can do you more nicely." I was vaguely aware of her warm,
fragrant, naked thighs advancing further around my own jeans clad hips,
Kira's hard-tipped, full breasts pressing lightly against my smooth back,
the heat of her nearly naked crotch rising up between us, and swirling
along the skin of my back - or were those her magical fingertips?

I groaned from the sheer pleasure of Kira's touch, and from the
intoxication of her proximity.  She stroked me, still always downward, and
I became acutely aware of her fingers leaving my flesh a mere inch from the
waistband of my jeans. Like a man who's lost his arm, I felt a phantom
sensation, her fingers continuing downward, across the sensitive skin of my
rear, skin that had never been stroked or caressed by another, but which
now cried out at missing her sweet touch.

As ultimate as I thought that pleasure to be, it was far exceeded by her
soft, warm hands reaching under my arms to momentarily cup my full breasts,
then lightly tweaking my erect nipples, eliciting a soft moan from me. "Oh,
did I hurt you?" Kira said. "I just wanted to examine your breasts, to see
if they felt like mine." Her stiff nipples, then the rest of her warm soft
breasts, began pressing into my back, as she reached forward to better
touch my own breasts. A soft, erotic tingle ran through my dripping slit,
as Kira rolled and kneaded my own full breasts between her knowing
fingers. The pleasure went on ceaselessly, my mind lost in the Kira-
induced woman-to-woman ecstasy. Too soon, perhaps a lifetime later, Kira's
delicious hands left my swelling breasts, to return to my back.

As though reading my mind, and perhaps she was, Kira said, "I could do a
better job if you take off your jeans. Maybe lay on the bed?" I could feel
her looking at me, awaiting an answer. I stumbled out, "Yeah, yeah," and
her fingers deserted my back, in effect, coaxing me to move to the bed,
which I did. As I rose to move over to her bed, the closer of the two, I
looked back to see Kira looking at me expectantly, as would be expected,
but I sensed an undercurrent of some emotion that I had never experienced
before. A warm, welcoming desire that frightened me subtly, but which I
could no more deny than I could my next breath of air.

My eyes were locked into hers, my green into her blue, my body turned
sideways to her. I knew my nipples were hard, my modest but noticeable B
cups full and rosy with a rising passion, and I wondered what she thought
of them. Not quite as prominent as Kira's, still, they might not disappoint
her if she were to be attracted to them. I had no idea after all this what
was happening.  I thought that all the attraction was in my own mind, that
Kira was innocently trying to relax me.  Perhaps she was. Perhaps it went
beyond what either of us expected.

My shaking fingers slid across my stomach to the top snap of my
jeans. Kira's eyes momentarily left mine, and followed my hands on their
downward trip. The snap was soon free, and my right hand accompanied the
zipper down, as it released the tension of the jeans on my hips, and
exposed more and more of my plain white cotton panties. When the zipper
stopped, I looked down, from habit, and to my shock and horror, saw a big,
round wet spot where my pussy hid behind the soft fabric.

I gasped slightly, and looked up at Kira. Her face was inscrutable, I
didn't know if she'd seen it.  I quickly stepped out of the jeans, turning
my hips and back on Kira, hiding the cum spot on my panties, but now
exposing my round, quivering bottom inside the panties to her view. I was
afraid to look around, but I could feel the weight of her eyes on my
bottom. I looked hesitantly at the beauteous Kira, her own full breasts
gracefully exposed, her sweet, small pink nipples nonetheless full and
jutting out proudly. I crawled onto the bed, momentarily supine, with my
full breasts hanging down, my bottom sticking up and vulnerable to anyone
who might care to caress it, or take some other liberty. I feared, and
hoped, that it would be so.

I lay down flat then, on my stomach, my dark brown hair partially covering
my back and shoulders, and partially fanned out over the pillow, which
smelled magnificently of Kira's body spray, and some other feminine aroma
that I could not put my finger on at that moment. I inhaled the mixed
fragrances, and a strong erotic tingle imprinted itself on my pussy and
clit. No matter what happened in the future, I would never, ever forget the
circumstances where I had smelled that heady mixture. I suspected that the
smell alone could induce one of the pale orgasms I had previously
experienced in my masturbatory fantasies.

After a pause, I felt Kira sit next to me on the bed, her warm, smooth hips
next to mine. The aroma I smelled on the pillow was stronger now, and I
moved my head to the side to look at Kira. Her small lace panties now lay
on the floor next to the bed, and it was clear that she was completely
nude. The doubts that I had had about our relationship were dispelling now,
still, Kira left one small seed of doubt. "I took off my panties, I hope
you don't mind, it frees me up to reach across while giving massages."
Oh. Disappointment flared in the pit of my stomach. Still, the aroma of
Kira was SO strong now.

Her hands returned to my back, not as tense as when she'd started, but
still in need of further ministration. "I'll need to straddle your back, "
Kira said, "so that I can evenly reach both sides.  Okay?" I nodded, and
added a grunt. I felt her leg swing over me, then settle over on my left
side, as she sat upright on my middle back. Her crotch was hot, and damp,
as she continually pressed it against me, every time she reached forward to
knead my shoulders. I fancied that I could feel the soft curls of her pubic
hair tracing her perfume across my back. And then the source of that
wonderful fragrance came clear to me!

It was the combination of Kira's favorite body spray, one that I already
associated with her everyday presence, and the lubrication produced by her
intense erotic arousal. But why on her pillow....unless that pillow often
found itself between her smooth, slim thighs, pressed against her moist
cunt, perhaps in sleep or, more excitingly, perhaps while she masturbated!
The thought of the soft pillow, once pressed into her slick pink slit, now
against my face excited ME greatly, and I felt my labia and clit swelling
with blood in my excitement. A passage from a "Human Sexuality" textbook
came to then....."the female's clitoris and labia majorum and minorum swell
with blood during sexual arousal, as the female prepares to receive her
mate."

God! Was I getting so excited because I wanted to get fucked by Kira? I
didn't know, but I did know that the contact of her naked skin with mine,
and the sweet fragrance of her hot and dripping pussy, were inflaming me to
the heights of sexual ecstasy.

"Yeah, that's better," Kira said, "now I can reach you all over." Her
probing fingers resumed their exploration, and healing, of my back, and of
my shattered emotions. Resuming her prior pattern of starting at the
shoulders, then kneading and squeezing her way down, now she did not stop
at my lower back as before, but continued to the sensitive swell of my
upper buttocks, touching and healing me there, too. I had never realized
that my buttocks could be stimulated in that manner, much like my breasts,
but found myself desiring her feminine touch down there, in a most ignored
area.

As though sensing my need, Kira concentrated more and more on my grateful
ass, moving down until her warm, strong thighs rested on my own thighs, and
began massaging my bottom itself, through my cotton panties. I groaned
involuntarily with pleasure. Apparently ignoring me, Kira said, "I'll need
to pull your panties down, in order to massage you a little better, okay?"
My response was a grunted moan, which she took for assent. I felt her raise
her hips up, then her slim fingers curled under the elastic band of my
panties, slipping them down over the swell of my rear end, then, leaving
them bunched a few inches down my thighs, under the lower swell of my
bottom.

At this point, I found her baring me in this manner, to be far more erotic
than if she had completely stripped my wet panties off me. My ass cheeks,
my anus, and even my pussy were completely exposed to her now. My little
pussy quivered as the first orgasm overwhelmed me, my hips and thighs
continually pressing together in spastic reaction to the erotic delight
Kira had given me, though I didn't know if she intended it or not. In any
case, Kira avoided touching me as I quivered with pleasure, then, as the
ripples slowed and stopped radiating through my vulnerable body, she once
again gently took up her massage of the full, round orbs of my ass.

"Funny," she said absently. "Your butt cheeks are flushed red. Has that
ever happened before?" I moaned something. :"Well, just thought you should
know," she finished. "By the way, your bottom is very warm, too. Feels
nice." How warm her hands felt, too. And knowing, as she began to probe
between my ass cheeks. Slightly separating my full, round globes, her
fingers kneaded in a circular pattern on each cheek, the circle slightly
expanding each time as her fingers gained closer and closer to my
vulnerable anus.

Never in my wildest erotic imaginings, strumming my thumb across my aroused
clit in my solitary masturbation, had I ever considered that my ass hole
might play any part in arousal, or sexual fulfillment. But now, the lovely
Kira was bringing her fingers ever closer to the puckered flesh surrounding
my anus, and I found myself desiring more. I prayed that Kira might touch
me there, though no one, including me, had ever done it before. Her fingers
lightly stroked near, then across my anus, until she abandoned that
pattern, and created a new one, focused completely on my anus! She began
circling that so-sensitive orifice with the tip of her fingernail,
radiating inward from a few inches out, until she was nearly poised to
enter the opening, her fingertip penetrating me to the depth of one quarter
inch, and no more. Out of nowhere, I found my hips attempting to rise, to
actually take her finger inside my tight hole.

As though completely unaware of my own inner erotic turmoil, Kira remarked,
"Your little hole is pink, Rachel, it looks very lovely, like a little
mouth begging to be kissed." God!! That was all the image I needed to set
me off again, in my second orgasm of the day, particularly when her finger
then penetrated me up to her first knuckle. My ass visibly shook and
bounced at the strength of this climax, and Kira, as though sensing
something occurring, held her finger there, lightly impaling me. That was
the first object ever to penetrate me, in my virginal homeliness, and I was
eternally grateful for the affection and care that Kira was showing me. But
I still wasn't sure what her intentions were.

"I think it's time you turned over," Kira said. "I want to do your front
now." There wasn't anything I wanted more than to lay myself open to my
beloved Kira, and nothing that I wanted less, than to face her in my shame
at my wantonness. She must think me a total slut, to so enjoy exposing my
most intimate parts, and to cum with another woman's finger in my
anus. Slowly though, as she raised herself up to allow me, I rolled over,
shamefaced, and as I completed the turn, lying now on my back, my chest
heaving with the residue of my pleasure, fluids running down the back of my
thighs from my overheated pussy and throbbing clit, my nipples swollen and
sensitive to touch.

Kira adjusted herself until her naked hips were situated directly over
mine, straddling me, her knees bent and legs folded under her. In this
position, nothing of hers was hidden from me. Her nipples too, were erect,
her breathing quickened and shallow, the curly blonde hairs above her pink
slit bedewed with small pearls of her own lubrication, the vertical slit of
hers about which I had dreamed, pouting and red, the lips parted and
glistening, and my own thoughts went to the possible pleasure of kissing
them.

I looked up to see her lipsticked lips also parted and glistening, and she
unconsciously licked her lower lip with the tip of her pink tongue. Her
eyes glazing, Kira gave a little cry, and pressed herself against me, her
mouth quickly drawn to mine, our breasts nestling together, her hips
burrowing down between my spread legs. I instinctively drew my legs up to
my chest, and our wet pussies were soon kissing, our erect clits rubbing
together, sparks shooting off inside each of us. Kira's long blonde hair,
intertwined with pastel ribbons, mingled with my silky long brown hair on
my shoulders, and on the pillow underneath me.

Kira's lips pressed against mine, her tongue aggressively invading my
virginal mouth. I welcomed her inside me, our tongues rubbing up against
each other, like two kittens playing together. Our moans became a joint
symphony of our passion, Kira's hips pumping into mine, her sweet juices
running out of her holy pussy into mine. I thrust up against her, vainly
attempting to meld my pussy with hers. Amidst our moans, and sighs, and
sweet whispers, we both orgasmed then, together, and just as my first two
orgasms under her ministrations had overshadowed those I had previously
experienced from masturbation, so too, this orgasm made the others look
pale and weak. I was transported to heaven, to heights of ecstasy, I
pledged myself forever to be sweet Kira's own, her lover, her slave.

If only she would have me.

============================

Please let me know what you thought of this, and my other stories, okay?
You can write me at uarkfan2001@yahoo.com. Thanks! Love, Lisa.