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Anything Goes
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Lesbian Female / 32
It's My 10th Year Anniversary, Still Married To HIM
My initiation into the world of sex came after I finished high school before going away to college. I got a job working for an art studio, a mall art studio where they sell big prints of football players and iconic images of Einstein and Che Guevara. The sales manager was a woman who talked all about when she first met the girl she loved. She was wide open about being a lesbian and there was nothing better than pussy and all that. She asked me if anyone had ever tickled my clit and how would I like a real kiss. She grabbed my booby and told me she wanted to stick her tongue down my throat.
Instead of being disgusted I wanted to hear more of her lesbian stories and how girls would refuse and then once she had licked their clit they would give up and surrender. One day I wore a pair of pants that were a little too small, too tight and she told me that I was one ounce away from showing toe. And she touched my pussy and ran her finger up and down my slit and kissed me before opening the store. It wasn't long before she was tickling my clit and easting me out and grabbing my tits and thrusting her tongue down my throat. I was willing, filled with desire and lust, that awful word they told us about at church. I ate her pussy, and she asked me to lick her up and down her butt crack, which included tongue on her bottom hole. Nothing was off limits, or out of bounds. When she put this tight collar around my neck, with a tiny little heart I didn't think anything of it.
A lady friend of my mother's noticed the collar and asked me what that was all about and whispered to my mother what that collar meant in the lesbian world. How she knew being one of my mother's church friends I didn't know. But she knew a lot about the undergrown lesbian world, and she told my mother all about it. When my supervisor hooked a small chain to the collar and told me to lick her clit I began to understand. When my supervisor insisted that I go with her to a party, and she saw to it that I didn't wear a bra, and she hooked her chain to my collar I began to understand. When I saw girls kissing and making out and shoving their hands up girl skirts and unbuttoning girl blouses I began to understand. When my supervisor kissed me in front of one her friends and squeezed my booby I began to understand.
That summer was all about understanding, learning, meeting other girls, some from my high school, who kissed other girls and licked other girl clits and licked up another girl's ass crack, I began to understand. So when I went to college I went there hungry to meet another girl, one that loved to kiss and lay around naked, one that liked having her ass crack licked and her nipples pinched and would put a collar on me. But what I met the second week of college was a college senior who had other ideas. He saw me as fresh pussy, a freshman that he needed to fuck. I wasn't given a choice in it, I was shoved over the back of the sofa and he fucked me in front of the other freshman girls who were at that party for the same thing, their chance for the college experience of being fucked in the open by a senior adding virgin notches to their belts.
Why he thought me girlfriend material I don't know, I wanted pussy as much as he did, but all he let me have was a pussy full of dick. It is common knowledge that freshman girls do the laundry, freshman girls drop their panties, freshman girls suck dick. It's common knowledge. And that's what freshman girls have to do, even if they want to lick some pussy and kiss a girl too. It wasn't until I was a junior and he had finished his grad school degree that I was alone and was able to meet Joan, a girl from upstate New York. She had a wet pussy and she wore pretty dresses, and she liked having her tits squeezed and her nipples pinched and kissed all over. She learned that girls have very sensitive ass cracks and that taking a licking of their bottom hole worth the anxiety. She learned and bit by bit she became my campus lover.
It's just one of the things you don't have control over, as much as you think you do. My boyfriend came to campus at least one time a month to fuck me and remind me where I was going to do laundry when I finished school. He didn't give me a chance to explain that I liked kissing Joan and licking her clit and all that. He did not want to hear about 'that'. Now bend over and take a dick like you are supposed to.
I walked down the isle in July of the year I finished school, and went on a honeymoon to a converted bed and breakfast light house where we could be alone and he could tell me how things were going to go. I knew, although I thought I could change things, that Joan was a memory now, I would be sucking dick instead of licking a clit between the sheets. He had put his ring on me, he didn't need a collar with a tiny little heart to hook a chain to.
Instead of being disgusted I wanted to hear more of her lesbian stories and how girls would refuse and then once she had licked their clit they would give up and surrender. One day I wore a pair of pants that were a little too small, too tight and she told me that I was one ounce away from showing toe. And she touched my pussy and ran her finger up and down my slit and kissed me before opening the store. It wasn't long before she was tickling my clit and easting me out and grabbing my tits and thrusting her tongue down my throat. I was willing, filled with desire and lust, that awful word they told us about at church. I ate her pussy, and she asked me to lick her up and down her butt crack, which included tongue on her bottom hole. Nothing was off limits, or out of bounds. When she put this tight collar around my neck, with a tiny little heart I didn't think anything of it.
A lady friend of my mother's noticed the collar and asked me what that was all about and whispered to my mother what that collar meant in the lesbian world. How she knew being one of my mother's church friends I didn't know. But she knew a lot about the undergrown lesbian world, and she told my mother all about it. When my supervisor hooked a small chain to the collar and told me to lick her clit I began to understand. When my supervisor insisted that I go with her to a party, and she saw to it that I didn't wear a bra, and she hooked her chain to my collar I began to understand. When I saw girls kissing and making out and shoving their hands up girl skirts and unbuttoning girl blouses I began to understand. When my supervisor kissed me in front of one her friends and squeezed my booby I began to understand.
That summer was all about understanding, learning, meeting other girls, some from my high school, who kissed other girls and licked other girl clits and licked up another girl's ass crack, I began to understand. So when I went to college I went there hungry to meet another girl, one that loved to kiss and lay around naked, one that liked having her ass crack licked and her nipples pinched and would put a collar on me. But what I met the second week of college was a college senior who had other ideas. He saw me as fresh pussy, a freshman that he needed to fuck. I wasn't given a choice in it, I was shoved over the back of the sofa and he fucked me in front of the other freshman girls who were at that party for the same thing, their chance for the college experience of being fucked in the open by a senior adding virgin notches to their belts.
Why he thought me girlfriend material I don't know, I wanted pussy as much as he did, but all he let me have was a pussy full of dick. It is common knowledge that freshman girls do the laundry, freshman girls drop their panties, freshman girls suck dick. It's common knowledge. And that's what freshman girls have to do, even if they want to lick some pussy and kiss a girl too. It wasn't until I was a junior and he had finished his grad school degree that I was alone and was able to meet Joan, a girl from upstate New York. She had a wet pussy and she wore pretty dresses, and she liked having her tits squeezed and her nipples pinched and kissed all over. She learned that girls have very sensitive ass cracks and that taking a licking of their bottom hole worth the anxiety. She learned and bit by bit she became my campus lover.
It's just one of the things you don't have control over, as much as you think you do. My boyfriend came to campus at least one time a month to fuck me and remind me where I was going to do laundry when I finished school. He didn't give me a chance to explain that I liked kissing Joan and licking her clit and all that. He did not want to hear about 'that'. Now bend over and take a dick like you are supposed to.
I walked down the isle in July of the year I finished school, and went on a honeymoon to a converted bed and breakfast light house where we could be alone and he could tell me how things were going to go. I knew, although I thought I could change things, that Joan was a memory now, I would be sucking dick instead of licking a clit between the sheets. He had put his ring on me, he didn't need a collar with a tiny little heart to hook a chain to.
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