After “The Electricians” I have received mails asking I have ever had any real experiences with girl sex and if I have any stores about it.
I am sorry to disappoint my readers, but I am “almost” completely straight. I have had a few situations where I have had sex with other couples present where the guys have wanted the girls to touch each other. I have tried it, just to say I have tried it, but it has never really had me going.
The only time I have had a real experience with another girl, is one of the few times when I haven’t afterwards written it down. Probably because I felt funny about it. However, I will try to tell it the way I remember, since apparently some readers seem to fancy the thought of me with another woman.
When I was 17 I was an exchange student and lived for a year with an American family in a relatively small town. The family was very nice, very religious and strict. There was a daughter, who only turned 17 after I had arrived and a son of 15.
At 17 I had been sexually active for two years, and had been with perhaps 10 different guys. I felt very experienced and was totally unprepared for a society where I wasn’t even allowed to be alone with a boy. However, I behaved myself very well. I respected the family and the rules of the society, and I also realised that if I were known to be “willing” I would get a bad reputation and possibly even risk being sent home. So I restrained myself, didn’t have a steady boyfriend, but dated many of the guys from the football team and basketball team (I liked the big guys) and expertly rejected their advances.
I was however, often very frustrated. I had only a few months before I left started to experiment with “toys”, but couldn’t find even that in the small town as it seemed to be a forbidden object. So after about half of year of frustration I finally picked up enough nerve to ask the guy who had taught me about toys to send me some. He did so, very well camouflaged in case they should be opened by the customs. Fortunately they arrived safely. But I had to be careful with the buzzing ones as the walls were very thin upstairs in the house. It was only us kids who had rooms upstairs but Kris, the daughter, was rather jealous of me and would happily have told on me had she found out, and the boy Darrel I knew kept spying on me, so I never knew where he might be lurking.
As a matter of fact I remember having great fun using him for a bit of excitement. My favourite toy was a set of Ben-Wah balls. Three or maybe four balls the size of table tennis balls were strung together on a string. When you inserted them in your pussy and put on your panties, you could pretend to sit at your desk doing homework, but only a slightly rocking motion would eventually set you off with a very nice orgasm. Kris was an aerobic dancer and Darrel was a football player. They had an exercise room, with a mirror and handrail along the end and weights and two exercise bicycles. I didn’t have any workout clothes of my own, but used to borrow Kris’s. She was my size in body, but with only small breasts, so I could hardly fit my breasts into it, but since it was very stretchable it worked out anyway, just was the material very stretched across my breasts. I was very aware of Darrel always staring at me when we were exercising together, but I quite liked it. In the beginning I felt a bit guilty and worried what the family would say about me being in the exercise room alone with Darrel. But since Kris and Darrel also often practised together, and I was supposed to be part of the family on even terms, nobody seemed to mind as long as somebody else was in the house at the same time.
Even though Darrel was only 15 he was quite well build, I guess from all the workout. I my frustration he became the object of some of my dreams, as he seemed to be the only male ever around me at times when I was excited. I enjoyed the way he always managed to choose the workout tool, which would give him the best position from which to watch me, as I sat on the bicycle. I had developed at way of putting the bike seat so high that I was stretching to reach the pedals, which made me move on the saddle in a way, which stimulated my clit. I know my nipples stood out very visibly excited through the stretched material, and even though Darrel tried to hide it when he was shifting positions I knew he was getting an erection from watching me.
One day when I felt exceptionally frustrated I put in the Ben-Wah balls before going to the gym. I just thought it would be a nice pleasant feeling, but was actually choked when I found out how intense the feeling was when I sat on the bicycle saddle. I just tried to bike carefully, but the feeling was so strong that I soon found myself biking faster to try to hide the movements I couldn’t stop making. I was very aware of Darrel looking at me in wonder as he saw me exercising at a speed I never used to reach. It was so hard to control movements, speed and composure under those circumstances. Controlling the orgasm, which hit me very hard, was impossible and I collapsed on the handlebar – trying to pretend I was just completely out of breath from the final spurt. I even had Darrel worried for he came over to ask if I was ok. I sure was – I had just had one of the strongest orgasms in 6 months while being watched by a hungry 15 year old!
I don’t know if he suspected anything, but I guess he did, because after a couple of “normal” workout sessions, he asked me if I had given up practising the high-speed chases. I told him I was just slowly building up the style, it had been almost killing me last time, but he thought that maybe I should go back to trying again. For the next practise I put in the balls again, but this time I was prepared and controlled it a bit better. But I still had Darrel staring at me intensely, and I imagine that he knew very well what was happening. Not with the Ben-Wah balls, but that I was getting off in front of him. He never said anything, and I just pretended that I thought he wasn’t aware. I had a lot of exercise in the following months, but it didn’t leave me any less frustrated.
Ok, I got a bit sidetracked there. Just goes to show that I feel more inclined to write about situations involving males than females.
Anyway, at one time a group of girls from the school was going away for a week at a camp. We had to get up very early the morning we were leaving, so one of the girls who lived quite far away had asked if she could stay with me the night before. In that way she didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to make it to the collection point, which was very close to where we lived. That was no problem with the family or me. She was a very cute rather petite girl. A bit shy, but I knew a lot of the guys fancied her. She just didn’t seem to be aware. We had to share my room as I was already occupying the guestroom, but that didn’t bother me.
Kris and Darrel were away for the evening, so we had the upstairs to ourselves as we were packing the last bits and preparing for the next morning. We found out we had a lot in common and we talked all the time. Even as I was in the bath I talked with Marsha who was outside in the bathroom. As I got out I saw her staring at me.
“You have got such nice breasts,” she commented without hiding that she was staring at them. “I wished I had as big breasts as you have. I always feel so aware that I am not even filling out the bras I am wearing.”
I looked down myself. I must admit that I have always been quite happy with my breasts. Even when they were developing they didn’t start as small protruding nipples as I have seen on a lot of other girls. They seemed to just grow as if they were slowly being blown up like a balloon. Now they looked like two half soft-balls stuck on my chest. Really round and with the nipples almost in dead centre.
I looked at her. She wore a thin kimono type of robe, and I could see the outline of her breasts clearly through the material.
“I don’t think your breasts are all that small. Let me see,” I said as I stretched out a hand to move the material away. She shied a bit back, but she did let me undo the rope and open the front of the kimono. As we both looked at her now bare breasts, we both noticed how her nipples started to harden. She looked embarassed.
“I am not used to people looking at me like that”, was all she said, but she didn’t try to cover herself again.
“You have a much smaller frame than me. It would look out of place if you had as big breasts as I do. Anyway in my experience, when it comes to it, it is not the size of the breasts that does the trick with the guys. It is your attitude towards your breasts. If you feel they are too small you loose your self confidence, and that is immediately obvious. You have to like your breasts, and the effect they have on the guys.”
“How can they have an effect on the guys if they cant even see them,” she wanted to know.
“First of all, you breasts are not particularly small. They seem very firm. They are just a bit further apart than mine, so more of your chest look flat. But when you actually look at them, I am sure any guys would feel happy to touch them and to play with them”.
She blushed again as the nipples grew even harder.
“Have you never had a guy touch them or see them”, I asked. But I almost certainly knew the answer to that already.
“You mean naked?” she asked as if shocked that I could ask a question like that.
I had to admit that was what I had meant, but I tried to soften it a bit by asking how far she had ever let a guy go with her. She said she had had a guy touch her on the breasts through her dress as he kissed her goodbye in the car after a dance. But she had been so worried about his reaction that she had quickly stopped him.
“And that is as far as any guy has ever got with you?” I asked stupidly, forgetting where I was. A girl with her looks would have got a lot further in my part of the world.
“Of course, have you let the guys get further with you?” she asked as if she already expected me so say” of course not” as well.
I didn’t know what to tell her. Would I ruin her idea of me if I told her the truth or should I use some of my experience to help her understand a bit more about the guys and gain some self confidence? I decided to risk it.
“You must remember that I come from a society which is quite different from yours”, I said as an opening, hesitating a bit. She was waiting for the continuation. “I haven’t let any guys here do it because I am trying to follow the norm here, but back home the situation is quite another one. Actually my mom said she would prefer I brought the boys I wanted to sleep with home, instead of doing it somewhere else. At least in that way she knew where I was and with whom. So you can see I have completely different conditions and experiences”. I then continued to tell her a bit about the life in Denmark and what I had done with some of the boys. She obviously believed me from the comments she made as we went along, but she was also finding it difficult to understand.
While she talked she had been preparing to get into the bath, and I had had a good look at her. She was actually very pretty. She had rather broad shoulders for a small girl like her. Her breasts were quite far out to the sides, but when she bent down they collected in a cone shape which actually wasn’t all that small at all. She had a very narrow waist and a bum, which I could easily envy, as my one is harder and not shaped as femininely as hers.
I told her that. She looked down herself and smiled a bit as she looked at my hips and said she could see what I meant. I don’t think anybody had ever told her and she seemed immediately to gain a bit of self-confidence. When she stood up she didn’t slouch as much as before, which made her breasts stand out in a different way than before. I also told her that. She smiled and from that time I noticed her often reminding herself to pull back her shoulders when guys later watched her.
We talked all the way into the bed and as I, as I always do, slipped under the sheets completely naked, she looked at me and asked if I always slept like that. When I confirmed that she smiled and did the same, looking like a little naughty girl and telling me that she thought that was totally naughty and that her mother would never let her do anything like that at home. This society never stopped amazing me.
As we kept talking about boys, sex and experiences I started to get excited. I tried surreptitiously to play with myself, but as I soon got more excited I had to stop as I didn’t feel right in doing so in front of her. My very first experience with masturbation was in a room with a girl doing it. I remember feeling both left out and a bit offended that the girl just did that right in front of me, without at least recognising my presence and satisfying my wish for help in trying that myself.
Marsha had just finished telling about her feelings when she watched the wrestlers, apparently a sport, which it turned her on watching. I thought that was the ideal time to talk about her feelings for herself.
“Do you masturbate,” I asked her. I could almost feel her gasp in shock.
“Of course not,” she claimed vehemently; and I quite believed her.
“Why not,” again I probably knew the answer but I had to ask to keep the line of talk going where I wanted it to go.
“I …, That …,” she was stumbling to find the right answer. I knew the answer was going to be something like “Nice girls don’t do that”, but that she realised that I probably did since I asked that way, and she didn’t want to make it sound like I was not a “nice” girl. Finally a “Do you?” came out, as I had expected.
I explained to her that I certainly did, that I had done since I was 14 and I would not survive the frustration if I didn’t. I told her that it was nice, necessary and that it prepared you for real sex because it made you know your body and your feelings so you were aware of what happened to you the first time you had sex with a guy.
She was thinking very hard. Finally she asked, “Do you think I should try? I mean right now?”
I hadn’t expected her to ask that, but she apparently saw me a mentor, and thought that if she had to try it, it would be better with me telling her about it. I just wanted her to get going, because I was dying to get going myself. So I told her that would be a good idea, then we could talk about what she felt about it.
She turned on her back and I could see her spreading her legs a bit and placing a hand at her crotch. She was staring into the ceiling and I could see the nipples through the sheet moving with her breath, which didn’t seem to pick up in speed. I had a finger between my legs and I was already starting to breathe heavier. I stopped and looked at her, which made her stop as well.
“It doesn’t seem to work,” she said.
“How do you do it,” I asked as I really couldn’t see how she could do it very well from that position.
“I just … touch myself … there,” she said with a combination of embarrassment and frustration that it didn’t work just to touch yourself “there”.
“Ok, let me show you”. I had been prepared that it might come to that. She seemed so unaware of anything concerning her body. Also I was getting a little bit excited by the thought of “helping” her. I moved the sheet aside and looked at her. She was so pretty as she lay like that, with small breast pointing straight up. I made her bend the legs and move them aside. She was very light blond and had only very little pubic hair. I had looked at other girls before, but it was a strange feeling knowing that I was expected to touch her and help her. I was getting more than a little excited myself.
I ran my fingers lightly down the inside of her legs and lightly touched her lips. She was wet all right, so it wasn’t that she wasn’t excited, she just didn’t know where to touch. As I hit her clitoris she gasped and tried to close her legs. I stopped her and asked her if it hurt.
“No, but it feels very strange”.
I told her to relax. That was what it was supposed to feel like. She did relax and I slowly played with her lips and clit spreading her moisture around. She was gasping each time I hit her clit, and as I stopped circling around and concentrated on only the clit she started to flex backwards, spreading her legs further and gyrating her bum around on the bed. I took her hand and placed a finger on the strategically right place and urged her to go on. She tried a bit, she was getting the picture. But then she stopped and looked up at me.
“Please, will you not continue. It feels so good when you do it.”
I actually wanted to, so I did. Just ever so slowly to build her up and not freighted her off with too fast or strong an experience. She put her hands behind her head pushing her breasts forward. I told her to touch one of them and she tried. She cupped them and squeezed them a bit. Finally I used my free hand to play a bit with her erect nipples closest to me to show her how. I rubbed them carefully between my fingers until they hardened even more. She was now certainly getting more excited because her breathing was now fast and shallow. I let go of her breast and she grabbed it herself. I rested my chin on her knee and watched how she now rolled the nipples between her fingers obviously giving herself considerable pleasure. It had been a very nice feeling touching her breasts, not just the actual feeling of the breast, but the knowledge that I was touching another girls breasts and giving her that experience. It was getting me really excited.
I looked down at her pussy. I had never really studied one this closely before. It seemed so clean. I ran my fingers around a bit and inserted a bit of my thumb inside her, but stopped when I felt the resistance. Better save that for her first guy, I thought. I kissed her knee and slowly ran my tongue down the inside of her leg. I wasn’t really planning the move, it just seemed a natural thing to do. I changed position so I lay between her legs spreading her lips with one hand while my fingers circled around her clit, holding back a little. I wanted to kiss it, but was afraid of her reaction if she all of a sudden found me kissing her there. She complained that I had stopped and looked up at me. She didn’t say anything when she found me between her legs. I think she had just given herself completely to me. I kept looking at her as long as possible as I sank further down towards her pussy, but she just kept staring at me, never making any move to stop me. When finally I licked her lips and clit she went almost wild. She was rocking up and down so I could hardly find the right spot. I sucked her clit into my mouth and rubbed it hard with my tongue as I held her hips. I couldn’t stop her moving, but at least I was moving along so I didn’t loose the grip. I had stopped being careful, I wanted her to come now. I was burning myself and I couldn’t wait to get a hand on my own clit, but I wanted her to come first. I didn’t have to wait long. She almost choked me as she squeezed her legs tight around my head as she came. She was shaking wildly for a long time. When she finally relaxed and let go of her grip of my head I lay down next to her and did something I never had thought I would do. I actually gave her a warm and loving kiss. She really was so beautiful that I couldn’t help it. But I was surprised when she responded with a tongue kiss. I hadn’t expected that, but she was really an expert kisser. She might not have let any guy touch her, but she had certainly learned to kiss.
When we finally stopped I rolled over on my back to get my breath back. She leant on an elbow looking at me.
“Gee Jenny, that was so fantastic. Do you want me to do that to you as well?”
I couldn’t believe she had asked that. I hadn’t thought about it, but now I found that I actually did. I told her so. She just lay there looking at me.
“I didn’t know it would be so good,” she said as she touched my nipples. They hardned quickly and my breathing quickened when I started slowly to realise I was about to have (or rather was in the middle of) my first girl encounter.
“Kiss it,” I asked her, and she obliged with no hesitation. She followed my instructions as I told her to suck at it, pull it with the lips and all the things I liked. I sneaked a hand up to her breasts and played with her as she was bent over me. When I couldn’t wait any longer I carefully directed her head towards my pussy. She moved and lay between my legs the same was as I had done for her. I put a pillow under my head so I could watch her. I would never have thought I would find anything like this exciting, but she was just like a little angel fulfilling a dream. It wasn’t like this was another girl doing it, this was Marsha, my little friend the beautiful white angel with the cute blond hair end the sweetest small breasts dangling slightly as she moved up and down licking my pussy all over.
I was directing her the best I could in between my heavy breathing. She was very easy to teach. Not like a guy who thinks he knows what is best for a girl. Marsha did exactly what I told her and she remembered what I had done to her and tried very successfully to do the same to me. When I came I cried out, which I don’t usually do, but it was just so intense I couldn’t help it. Finally release by not just my own hand. I had forgotten how big the difference was between doing it yourself, and the feeling of being in somebody else’s power as that person brought you off. She climbed up between my legs and lay on top of me as she kissed me again. I could feel her breasts touching mine. I envied the guy who would get this girl. She was really something else.
Finally she rolled off me and climbed under her sheet.
“I am totally whacked, and I am sure my mother would NOT approve of this,” she giggled as she put a hand out from under the sheet and found mine. I gave it a squeeze and we fell asleep like that, holding each other’s hands.
She became my best friend for the rest of my stay. We never repeated the performance, but I was aware of her playing with herself every night in the camp, as she was in the bed right next to me. She knew I was aware for we talked about our nightly experiences during the day. We certainly could hear each other, and we were concerned how much the other girls could hear. But we didn’t really care.
Neither of us had any sex during the remainder of my stay, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of offers. Marsha had gained such a radiance of self confidence. She carried herself as a queen, quite obviously proud of her body and not afraid of wearing clothes which showed it off to its full advantage. The guys were falling all over her, but she was just reserving herself for the right guy. Had I been a guy I would have been madly in love with her. As it was I think I actually were.
Now, I don’t really want to ruin this story. But just for the sake of completeness, Marsha was married to a guy she met shortly after I left. They were divorced after only one year as it became obvious to everybody that he was beating her up badly. She hang around a while, moved in with a new friend and was found by a neighbour beaten almost to death by him. He was arrested and she recovered. Now she drives a schoolbus. She has stopped seeing guys. She has never had any kids. I want to go and see her, but she has asked me not to. Maybe she should have become a lesbian!

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