Amateur

24th of November, my 20th birthday, and I was stuck in a lecture at uni.

Of course I wasn’t going to focus. The term was drawing to a close and most if not all of our important exams were out of the way. I’m pretty sure nobody else in that lecture hall was focusing either.

So I took the time to think about what I seemed to be thinking about more and more these days – sex. I had just found myself a year ago as a lesbian, and was pleased at how I had also found my own androgynous style, while still looking good. I took care of my skin, and it had begun to glow a caramel brown just as it did when I was 15, my hair was cropped and though my makeup was light, it effectively accentuated my brown eyes. I had kept myself active and continued to eat right, and luckily I rarely gained weight. I looked good, if I could say so myself.

So why wasn’t I getting any?

I looked round the hall, and, faithful to the numbers game, there were some pretty hot girls around, a fair few. Obviously they were all straight. Obviously I would never find the ones who I can actually date attractive. Obviously I was subconsciously planning on staying a virgin forever.

Finally the lecture ended, after many a frustrated glance at the clock, and I made my way back to my house across campus. I checked my phone and took it off silent, and I had gotten a few more birthday texts and a tonne of facebook updates. At least I still had my friends today.

I was tapping away at my phone, and had worked the doors to the flats at Greyburn (where I lived) a hundred times before, so I didn’t even bother looking up when I open them. Unfortunately, on this day of all days, somebody else was doing the same thing.

After the collision, I looked up, shocked and quite embarrassed to see a rosy cheeked, pixie-looking girl expressing the same feelings, except looking a lot cuter.

“Sorry!” we both laughed.

And that should’ve been it. But we stood there for a couple seconds longer than necessary, and I could swear I caught her checking me out. The hallway suddenly became really hot.

In a flurry of sweet-smelling hair and skin, she swiftly left and went on her way, leaving me frowning in confusion for a few more seconds before I got on with my day. I still thought about her though.

That night my good friend and fellow gay Greta was throwing a flat party for me, and all I had to do was show up. I didn’t even have to bring alcohol. It was great. Plus she had promised a trip down to one of the cooler gay bars out of town later on, as if I needed any incentive to get overexcited about a party.

When I arrived, all my favourite people were there, Boris, who had died his hair yet another colour and was looking outrageous as per usual, Nicole, my best friend from primary school to whom fate canlı bahis şirketleri assigned the same university as me, and Pratik, a lad (the English equivalent to a frat boy), but the nicest lad you would ever meet. They all gave me presents – bottles of Malibu, music gift vouchers, rare DVDs, the works – and we all joined the rest of the party in particularly energetic drinking games. I was in good company.

A few rounds of Ring of Fire later, Greta brought someone in to the living room.

“Hey guys, Chris says she wants to join so pull up a seat for her. We can always do with another gay!”

Everyone laughed at Greta’s somewhat loose tongue, and made space for this new girl to sit down. Wary of Greta’s ‘friends’, I quickly looked up to see that Chris was none other than pixie girl.

In that split second, my plans of getting drunk and hitting Dice dissolved, and all I wanted was to talk to this girl. Part of me knew she was gay when I first saw her, and part of me was still going crazy with hormones and nerves.

She had thick muddy blonde hair, and after a better look, I noticed that her loose fit jumper hid a slim but beautifully proportioned body. She even had a nice ass. Thinking about her and how she had looked at me earlier made me forget what was going on in the room.

“Taylor, it’s your turn, pick a card you div!” Pratik shouted out from the other end if the table, getting a bit too into the game if you ask me. Chris looked around and finally met eyes with me, and smiled one of those smiles that lesbians can’t hide as she put name to face. She recognised me. I feebly smiled back and took a card.

30 minutes later, everyone had reached a comfortable level of drunkenness, though some more comfortable than others. Ring of Fire was over and I had been talking to Boris about the music in Dice for a while. I was drunk enough to get up and go find Chris.

“Hey! Sorry again for the-” I motioned towards my head.

“Psssh don’t worry about it. How d’you know Greta?” Chris replied. She looked the slightest bit flushed, but wore it with a cheeky little grin that she always seemed to have. There was something cute and self-conscious about her, but also inherently sexy.

“I met her at PrideSoc during fresher’s, we’ve hung out loads ever since then. Are you guys hallmates?” I asked.

“Yeah. I only came out to her recently though. She’s trying to get me to come to PrideSoc now.” She was standing really close. I admired how confident and comfortable she was.

“Don’t go. It’s shit. Just hang out with us instead.” I was being too honest. Stuff just falls out of my mouth when I’ve been drinking.

She laughed.

“Don’t tell her I said that though. Ooooh she’d kill me.” I covered my back. Chris was still laughing.

We canlı kaçak iddaa talked for a while about lesbian stereotypes and London life and TV shows and all sorts of random stuff. Her green eyes did this thing where they’d darken every time she wanted to say something she thought was mean, even though she was laughing. I figured she had quite a daring side. I wanted to grab her.

Greta joined us to say that it was snowing outside, so we probably weren’t going to hit Dice’s. She was worried that would ruin the party for me, but then she quickly observed I was having a great time with Chris. The party split into various groups of drunken shenanigans, and Chris, Greta, Boris, David and I ended up in Paula’s room, youtubing funny videos and passing round a spliff that Paula had generously donated me for my birthday.

David eventually passed out drunk, and Greta and Boris went snowfighting outside. A lot was going on. Not that I noticed any of this.

“When and how did you know that you were gay?” Chris asked, grinning cheekily again. Her eyes were so expressive, I decided then that she could definitely be an actress if she wanted to.

“When I was about 7, I had this really beautiful teacher. Miss Farringdon. And whenever I was alone with her, I’d stare at her cleavage, unashamed. For a really long time. This went on for a few years.”

Realising that we were alone, Chris turned to face me, though we were still sat next to each other. I turned to face her, feeling her hot breath on my face. She took off her loose jumper to reveal a tight white and purple striped shirt, her pert breasts stretching it slightly, and her nipples were erect. She smelled amazing.

Her long eyelashes fluttered down as she leaned forward, looking at my lips. Her scent engulfed me. I couldn’t breathe.

Slowly at first, then more vigorously we kissed, and took no time in shoving her tongue down my throat, holding my waist. I grabbed her waist too, then she broke off.

I looked at her full breasts, beautifully rounded globes poking out of her chest. I brought my hands up the sides of her torso til I was gripping the sides of her breasts, and pressed my thumbs against her nipples. Her eyes looked alarmed, she let out a small gasp and bit her lip. Massaging her nipples through the shirt I leaned forward and kissed her again, with the same vigour she showed me. She pushed her lower half closer to mine, she was writhing just a bit, and her pussy was boiling hot. I could feel her breath quickening through her heaving chest. She looked gorgeous, and the soft warmth of her mouth and tongue dizzied me. I started to massage and pinch her nipples a bit faster and, restless and moaning short whimpers, her breath quickened again. She pulled away, panting, and undid her jeans, quickly taking them canlı kaçak bahis off to show me what she wanted. I took off my t-shirt, and, kissing me hungrily, she unbuttoned her shirt and quickly unfastened her bra and mine. I momentarily worried about how far we were going when anyone could come in at any time not to mention the possibility of David waking up pretty soon, but she kissed me again and my thoughts disorganised themselves.

I pulled down her panties and looked at her pretty pixie face and body. She smiled quickly, then furrowed her brow with eager impatience. She was so perfect. Today was so perfect.

The room was filled with the smell of damp pussy, replacing the previous stench of weed. My mind was flooded with things I wanted to do to her. I wanted to kiss her everywhere. I wanted to bury my face deep in her pussy and make her twitch and grab me. Or we could just kiss. We could do anything.

Looking down at her pussy, I covered it with my hand, then slid a finger across the slit. She gasped, and it was so wet it made my hand slip faster. But she’d have to tell me what to do.

“Tell me what to do,” I said to her.

“Finger me.” she said through gritted teeth. I could see she really enjoyed sex. I didn’t usually like it when people made sexy things sound so nasty, but I wanted her so bad I didn’t care. I moved my fingers up and down to find her clitoris, and traced circles around it. Her pussy was flaming hot, and she let go a big puff of air. Her cheeks were getting rosier. I made sure I stroked every part of her slit to find out where she liked it, tracing circles, making different shapes. When I found a pattern she liked, her pussy pulsed and she started to grind it on to me. The shapes her body made were glorious. She looked at me and then at my hands with big, intense eyes.

“Want me to go inside too?” She nodded, panting. I was getting really wet, she was almost too much for me. Her quiet, short moans became louder, she grinded a little faster and I sped up accordingly. When the time was right, I stuck fingers from my other hand into her pussy, and she moaned a deep, throaty sigh. Her beautiful tits were bouncing against the rest of her soft skin, and she dug her nails into the magazine lying by her side. Her eyes got bigger. She propped herself up, holding my neck and grinding onto both my hands, kissing my face and breathing heavily onto me. I was breathing faster too.

As she came, her voice cracked that beautiful noise, her muscles stiffened and her back arched. I kept going, I remembered someone once saying that was important. Her face was flushed and she tossed her hair. I couldn’t believe I was here doing this with her.

When she caught her breath she looked into my eyes and kissed me, softer and deeper this time, breathing into me, pushing her whole body against mine. I met her kiss with my own intense desire, tension piling up inside me.

“Take off your trousers, I feel stupid.” She laughed at me. I did as I was told. I would do anything to hear her moan like that again.

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