It was the last day of Student Activities Week at Albert-Preston University and I was stationed at our Cheer Squad table at the less-than-prime hour of 3 PM on a Friday afternoon. The main hall of the Student Center building was practically empty as most students were either heading home for the weekend or already out on campus or resting up before a big Friday night blowout in the bars downtown.

The Cheer Squad table was situated next to a brightly decorated booth put up by the African Studies Club. Their elaborate display made our few pennants and pom poms look pretty anemic. I was dressed in my cheerleading togs and feeling a little stupid when the few students in the building passed by without so much as a glance in the direction of the various club displays arrayed in the hall.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot and eventually looked at the African Studies Club table next door. Their representative was a black female student in a traditional African dress and head wrap. Now that I studied her a little more closely (out of boredom, I hate to admit), the entire effect was quite striking. Her dress seemed to be a long wrapper of deep red and gold colors that swirled around her from her bust to the parquet floor where the material pooled around her feet in an elegant train. Her headdress was an elaborate construction of the same red and gold fabric wrapped in such a way as to almost defy gravity, being pouffier at the top than the single wraps across her forehead and hairline.

“Wow, that’s some outfit.” I said to her across the small divide between our stations.

“Thank you. It’s a traditional kente and duku.” She said. “I like your outfit too. We didn’t have cheerleading when I was a girl.” She gave a small laugh.

“I’m Haley. Goggins.” I said and stuck my hand across the table to her.

The African girl lightly touched my hand. “I am Doaui Baidoo.” She smiled sweetly. Her first name sounded like “Doe-Wowee” when she said it.

We filled the rest of our hour small talking and watching the large wall clock tick up to 4 o’clock when we would both be off duty from our lonely postings. Doaui was from Ghana, a junior engineering major, it turned out. APU has only a small African-American student population and I may have seen Doaui a hundred times on campus without noticing her. Too bad for me, because I was getting to like her as we chatted and I was enjoying her British-accented voice with the African inflections in which she spoke. I guess the word would be “charming.”

We chatted about all sorts of campus things, coursework, places to hang out, etc. I was dying to ask her some questions about the African Studies group and her traditional dress but I was too much afraid to say something stupid – or worse, make some racial faux pas. So I stuck to the tried and true new friends kind of chatter. Before very long, the clock had ticked close to four o’clock and we began packing our supplies up since we were the last hourly shift for the week. I had only a small armful of the pom poms and pennants and some athletic department literature, so I offered to help her carry some of the excess material from her table. We walked out of the Student Center, our arms filled, both of us probably feeling a little ostentatious in our respective outfits in the bright light of the campus. With Doaui’s high headwrap as well as her being taller than my short five-two, we looked like Mutt and Jeff as we ambled across the concrete walkways. The few students we passed sometimes did a double take as the short, pale cheerleader and the exotically clothed, statuesque African woman strolled along.

A female student ran up to us and asked us to stop for a photo for the student newspaper. We obligingly halted and smiled for the camera. Doaui had to spell her name out for the reporter who scribbled furiously with a concentrated look scrunching her face to get it written correctly. We laughed afterwards as we resumed our walk.

At some point in our newfound acquaintanceship I took notice that Doaui was quite beautiful with large, bright eyes, full gently glossed lips, very white teeth, and a flawless complexion in deep brown. I admit that I was dazzled by her native dress and the exotic air in which it enveloped her. The bandeau top of her wrap dress – the kente – displayed just a hint of cleavage but the swell of the material suggested a full and firm bosom. When we completed the walk to her off-campus house for international students and we dropped off all the materials for her club, I asked if she wanted to get dinner together later. Doaui smiled and said yes. I practically skipped when I hit the sidewalk outside her building, filled with a now-familiar feeling casino siteleri of interest in a new female.

“Oh, geez, Haley.” I thought to myself. “You’re getting a crush.” I purposely stopped smiling to mask the welling heart throbs I was experiencing as I walked quickly back to my dorm.

We met later that evening, with both of us back in street clothes now, and walked to a small off-campus restaurant that served healthy and exotic meals (at least to my small-town sensibilities). We ate our platefuls as we talked and got to know each other better. Doaui talked about her upbringing in Ghana and the transition to American college life. She was keeping her nose in the books to keep her Engineering scholarship and maintain the pride of her parents and extended family back home. My story of small-town high school life and cheerleading at the college seemed like something from a boring “Happy Days” rerun to my own ears. On our way back to campus, we stopped at a juice bar and had frothy fruit smoothies. It was dark outside now and we sipped on straws as we fell into a closer, joking friendship. When I looked at Doaui, her lips puckered around the tip of her straw, it felt like we were on a date – even if I was the only one who thought so.

“You didn’t mention any boys when you were telling me about yourself.” Doaui said as she looked up from her smoothie.

“Oh, nothing to tell, I guess.” I answered cautiously.

“You only mentioned that basketball player upstate and the gymnast here.” Doaui said with what I took to be a sly smile across her lovely lips. She was referring to my mention of Jennie Nickles and Noni Momoula, my first two lesbian lovers that I have written about before.

I was flummoxed over what to say in response. “I guess they’ve been my closest friends since I came here.” I said slowly. I raised my eyes from my own smoothie and found Doaui staring right back at me with (I’m pretty sure) a twinkle in those big orbs of hers.

“You know, Haley, you can be honest with me.” Doaui said with her British-accented voice lowered a notch. She let out a small laugh. “One of my housemates told me about you. Actually, warned me about you.” And she laughed again.

I felt my face (my whole body, really) flush with embarrassment at her comment. “What?” I almost squeaked, my voice was pitched so high from nerves.

“Oh, yes, but your secret is safe with me.” She said. “If you wish to keep it a secret, I mean.”

“Hmmm.” I said while my mind raced over the implications of this revelation of my – what? – bisexuality? lesbianism? “I guess it’s not as big a secret as I thought. Oh, goodness.” I said and held my head in my hands and felt an involuntary giggle erupt from within.

Doaui reached her hand across the table and patted my wrist. “It’s not uncommon for girls, you know…their first time away from home.” She said thoughtfully and with a kindness in her voice to soothe my embarrassment. She laughed a little and said, “When I was in a girls school in England, it seemed like half the girls were sleeping with each other.”

I looked up hopefully. “Did you?” I asked.

Doaui gave me her enigmatic smile again. “I had plenty of opportunity.” She answered coyly but before this vein of conversation could go further, Doaui changed the subject and started comparing parts of England to her native Ghana. Before long, we were asking for our checks and exiting the cafe.

We walked along the darkened streets back towards campus. Our path was bringing us to Doaui’s apartment building. My heart began to race as I tried to get up the courage to ask the question I had been formulating in my head. “Uh.” I started out clumsily. “Did you ever take advantage of the opportunity to, you know, be with another girl?” I asked.

Doaui shrugged with a non-committal smirk. My heart sunk at the ambiguity of her answer. But then she brightened up. “But if you want to give me another opportunity…” She let the playful invitation float in the air between us.

I discreetly took her hand in mine as we stood together. “Yes, I’d like to share that with you, Doaui.” I answered in a hushed voice and I felt our hands squeeze tighter for a split second before unclasping. Doaui nodded her head toward the front door and we made our way into the building.

Doaui’s dorm room was slightly larger than my own owing to her international student status and her probably being on some kind of scholarship. It even accommodated a small easy chair like you might find in a reception area or small hotel. She had a small Ghanaian flag pinned above her writing desk which was crowded with a large laptop and several textbooks. A photo of her smiling family was slot oyna propped in a corner of the filled desktop. A bright orange hardhat sat atop one of the textbooks, a souvenir perhaps from some engineering fieldwork. It was hard to imagine Douaui in a hardhat after seeing her in the tall, soft headwrap of her traditional dress earlier today or her soft natural curls of tonight. Her single bed was immaculately made with a brightly colored comforter, two big pillows, and a small stuffed giraffe placed carefully on the spread.

“Taking it all in, I see.” She said brightly when I turned back to her. “So, Haley, how do we begin?” She asked as she extended her arms to me.

I walked into her arms and tiptoed up to kiss her softly on her magnificent lips. “Like this.” I said as I kissed her again. Our arms circled each other and our small kisses became longer. I tentatively nibbled her lower lip. Douai held me tighter. We came together in a head tilting liplock and our mouths opened to allow our tongues to taste each other. We were really pressing into each other now and I could feel the pressure of her large bosom against my own. I could feel my own heat rising as we kissed greedily and I was certain that Douai was also becoming aroused as our hands began running down to feel each others’ buttocks and I tried to get my hands on her breasts.

“Oh, you’re good, Haley-girl.” She said in a husky whisper when we broke our kiss.

“It gets even better.” I said as I daringly squeezed my hand between her denim-clad thighs to cup her centerpiece. “Let’s get naked, Douai.”

“You’re a keen one.” She said in her sly British accent. I made a soft grunting noise as I fussed with her belt buckle. Finally, I had her pants undone and unzipped. I pulled her blouse out and ran my hands beneath the material to get my hands on her breasts. Oh, what glorious breasts they were, still sight unseen beneath the blouse and held inside a soft full sized brassiere. I was feeling those lovely mounds of flesh as I leaned in for another kiss.

“Undress yourself.” Douai said. “I’ll get the rest off myself.” She said and gently pushed me off her chest and away from her delicious lips.

We hastily completed our separate un-dressings, both of us “keen” as Doaui had said, to rejoin in each others’ arms and let our excited states lead us. We stood a few feet apart and we both looked up at the other as if on cue. I had stripped off my brassiere to stand bare breasted while Doaui – perhaps in her lingering shyness – still wore the soft underwire bra that only made her large brown breasts seem even more titanic. She slowly reached her arms behind her in the classic posture of a woman unhooking her brassiere. She gently shook the straps down her arms and the deep cups that held her twin dark caramel mountains tumbled to the floor.

“Oh, Doaui!” I fairly shrieked as I stared with open mouth at the sight before me.

I knew Doaui’s breasts were big when I first noticed their girth under her clothing earlier his day and confirmed when I saw their mass in her brassiere just moments ago, but now I was truly amazed and humbled at their size fully exposed before me. The surprising thing to my eyes, now, were that they stood upright in front of her torso. My eyes drank in every millimeter of Doaui’s mammaries. Like soft caramel clouds, they beckoned to me beneath her innocent, slightly embarrassed smile, to come to them, to burrow into their inviting warmth, to suckle them as a child would be drawn by an evolutionary desire. She had silver dollar-sized areolae that were a deeper brown with tiny goosebumps outlining the circle and her nipples were as thick as my pinky finger and stood at upright attention in sexual excitement.

I moved towards her and buried my face between her soft breasts. Doaui sighed gently as I put my my mouth on top of her left nipple and sucked it deeply, fully expecting (hoping?) that I would taste her milk. Alas, my new lover had no milk to provide me but I suckled at her left, then her right nipple, as though it might provide me with some reward for my efforts. Doaui caressed my head as I kissed, sucked, and rubbed my face between her glorious boobs.

“My little cheerleader.” Doaui said softly above me with a slight laugh of affection.

I brought my head up to face her. Smiling, the both of us, we kissed again. Doaui put her hands on my hips. “Let’s get in bed, Haley.” She said simply.

Lying down with Doaui was a warming, sensual experience. My previous female lovers had been athletes – one tall and sinewy, one short and taut – but Doaui was all soft womanly flesh. I must admit that her brown skin made the experience doubly exotic and arousing canlı casino siteleri to me. She had a faint scent like a natural perfume of spices unknown to me. We wrapped our arms about each other and gently rolled atop each other and off, kissing madly and letting our hands leisurely explore each others’ bodies while our passions rose. During those times when Doaui was atop me, I felt protected under her soft weight and plump bosom. It made me feel childlike to hold on to the naked skin of her maternal body. For her part, Douai seemed to have come to her bisexuality – if not complete lesbianism – naturally and was kissing me passionately, necking me with hot breath below my ears, dipping down to kiss my nipples, and exploring my small, slender body with vigorously moving hands. During these initial physical maneuvers we clumsily got out of our respective panties. I was wide-eyed when I spied Doaui’s neatly trimmed black bush that triangled down to the heaven I knew would soon be mine. She whimpered when she touched my vagina with her fingers. She cooed when I returned the favor and slid my fingertips along her damp labia. The best part, though, was to be wrapped in her arms and kissing and nibbling my African lover’s full, liquid, warm lips as we let the evening unfold in loving slow motion.

As if through erotic telepathy, we began maneuvering into lovemaking position with my head near the confluence of Douai’s soft thighs and torso and my lover’s face hovering just above my smooth vulva. We both dipped gently towards each others’ pussies and I tasted Douai while I felt her tongue touch my labia. My head was singing and my heart was thumping as I gently lapped Doaui’s wet sex and privately reveled in the idea that my lily-white, small town girl’s face was buried between the soft brown thighs of my Ghanaian girlfriend. It was only a couple of years ago that I had recognized my first girl-crush on one of my naive high school classmates and now I was licking the exotic pussy of an African beauty. And exotic it was, indeed. Doaui’s pussy was full-lipped and wide and had the same color as a dark pink rose. It was moist and seemed to ooze all the more as she became excited from my attentions.

We were really going at each other after our tentative start.We would rock gently from a side-by-side sixty-nine position to one or the other of us sometimes rolling atop the other. I know I never came up or air and I don’t think Doaui ever stopped licking and nibbling my sex once she got into it. After a few minutes, my face was soaked and my blonde bangs were matted to my forehead from a combination of perspiration and my lover’s vaginal juices. The musky aroma of wet pussy and the awareness that my face was buried in Doaui’s twat made my ears hum with excitement.

These distracting thoughts soon were replaced by the rising sexual excitement that began to course through me as Douai burrowed into my vagina with a real urgency for which I flung my legs open to allow her face to get as deep into me as she seemed to desire. With her fierce lovemaking wracking me mentally, I zeroed in on Douai’s sopping, open pussy. I found her clitoris. This was not difficult since it was considerably more protuberant than my earlier female lovers had possessed. A beautiful pink bullet under a soft fold of skin. When I got on that nubby bit of flesh, Douai came alive, groaning, quaking and clasping my head between her meaty brown thighs.

I made a loud slurping noise as I ran my tongue through her sopping pussy. I made another unearthly sound when Doaui found my clitoris and tongued it with urgent pressure as I returned that favor on her bullet. I fairly rose off the bed when my lover got right on that certain spot that makes the heavens open up for me. Douai was shaking and moaning as I zeroed in on her place of joy.

“Right there!” I whooshed in an exhalation of pre-orgasmic tension as Douai rough-licked my button. I burrowed deeply into her pussy as my mind and body released in waves of tingling ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck, girl!” Douai said in an unexpectedly husky voice as she went rigid for a moment and then convulsed in a weeping orgasm as I pressed my tongue against her stiffened clitoris.

We both fell away from each other, arms splayed out, heads lolled to the side. Doaui’s face was glistening from my pussy juice and when she smiled with her large white teeth framed by her thick lips that had just pleased me so thoroughly, I flushed with emotion. Slowly, we moved back into each others’ arms and wrapped up together to breathe deeply and coo into the warm air between us. We puckered simultaneously and kissed sweetly while our eyes laughed at each other.

“Student Activities Week was a success after all.” Douai said with a humorous lilt to her soft voice.

“And I just changed my major to African Studies.” I giggled. Then we began kissing passionately and we could feel the heat rising again between us.



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