Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Rachael Ross

{Original source and posting date unknown}

I was fourteen when my life changed forever.

I walked home from school then, since Our Lady of Lourdes wasn’t really that far from the house we lived in. Especially if I cut across the junior college campus, that saved a good 15 minutes. There were bathrooms there too, near the running track the college had, and I’d found that convenient on more than one occasion. The only thing was the restroom wasn’t really clean, there was a lot of graffiti on the walls, really dirty stuff that I sort of understood, well enough to know it was nasty anyway.

But it was kind of neat too, strange as that sounds. Mostly there were just little crudely drawn pictures of dicks and stuff, but there were messages too. Someone had spray-painted the left-most stall door with ‘DYKES ONLY’ and inside that one I’d found the most messages. They said things like ‘Friday night 9 pm – Gloria’ and ‘Golden Girl 342-1872 leave a message’… and a dozen more. Some were obviously old, some very new, but I never knew for sure if they were really real, you know? I mean, who would leave their phone number on a bathroom wall? And why? I was just fourteen, an only child, and a Catholic schoolgirl to boot; I tended towards innocence to say the least.

On this particular day, however, all that was to change dramatically. I was cutting across the track and decided to use the restroom, and get a drink of water from the fountain that was just outside the bathroom door. There was rarely anyone around, except on weekends, just one or two people who might be jogging and this day was no different.

But there was one girl who was just sitting on the bleachers nearby, not reading or anything, just sitting there like she was waiting for someone. I was aware of her watching me as I crossed the track infield slowly, unable to help but walk towards her since she was just a few feet from the bathrooms anyway.

I’ve always felt kind of awkward socially and things like getting close to strangers always sort of messes me up a little, especially back then when I was trying to grow in so many different ways. I wasn’t always comfortable with my body, even though people told me I was pretty. I was even less comfortable with thoughts and feelings sometimes. So maybe you can understand why I didn’t want to look at the woman who was looking at me, but I didn’t want to look away either. Or maybe it seems silly, but what can I say?

That’s what I was feeling as this woman, and she was at least 18, probably older than that even, stared at me. I figured she was a student at the college, and I sort of looked at her, but mostly I just looked at my feet. I had a little fear of tripping too, since that would make me feel like a total idiot.

She was tall, or so it seemed to me as she sat there. A lot taller than my five feet nothing, I’d bet. And blonde, with sort of fine straight long hair that she parted in the middle. I’m Amerasian, brown skin, black hair, brown eyes… sort of a little nose and almond eyes, but not a flat moon face or anything, thank God. She was wearing shorts, cutoff jeans all faded and frayed, and a plain white t-shirt.

I could see her skin was pretty pale and wondered if she worried about getting a sunburn. It was September, but still pretty warm. It’s the best time of year in Seattle, really. I wasn’t going to burn, not with my complexion, even though my skirt was pretty short. It was last year’s, but I hadn’t really grown that much, just a couple inches over the summer. I hadn’t really noticed at all, although my Daddy had told me I needed to get a couple new skirts or I’d give him a heart attack. I figured he was just teasing me, though he was deathly afraid I’d get a boyfriend.

I avoided eye contact with the woman as I walked past her, hugging a couple library books stuffed in my little backpack to my small but recently budding breasts. They were just lumps really and I didn’t even bother wearing a bra beneath the white cotton of my blouse since a blazer was part of the uniform anyway. But I’d left my blazer in my locker since it was so warm outside. My nipples were very dark though and I’d been regretting it all the while I walked, but especially as I walked by the woman on the bleachers. She was still looking at me, I could tell from the corner of my eye, and I thought maybe she even smiled a little, but I couldn’t be sure since I didn’t want to look. I just stopped to get a drink before I went in to use the bathroom.

As soon as I bent over and started drinking I realized that my short skirt had ridden up pretty high in the back. I could feel it but it would have been even more embarrassing to do anything about it like jerk my body upright again, which was my first instinct. Instead, I vaguely hoped the woman hadn’t noticed, since all she had to do was turn her head and she could have seen my white panty-clad butt easily. Probably she didn’t even see, I told myself. But I was blushing furiously as I quickly finished drinking and moved as casually as I could, pretending like nothing was wrong. I totally ignored her, fearing that I’d see her laughing at me, and pushed my way into the ladies restroom, blinking hard and wondering why I felt so stupid all the time.

I put my backpack on one of the sinks and went into the leftmost stall, the one I usually used. None of them locked, or anything, but at least the door on that one would wedge itself into place and stay closed. I pulled my panties down until they slid by themselves down around my ankles and pulled up my skirt, bunching it around my narrow hips, and glanced at the toilet seat, which appeared barely clean enough to use. But I really needed to go, so barely was good enough for me.

I’d just sat down when I heard the door open and soft flop-flopping of sandals walking in. It had to be that girl, I realized. I suddenly forgot all about peeing. I dreaded the sound my urine would make as it hit the water in the toilet bowl. It would be embarrassing for some reason, although I’d never had a fear of using a public bathroom before.

This time was different, though and I didn’t understand it at all. This strange young woman had made me feel uncomfortable ever since I’d seen her. Not for any particular reason other than that she’d been watching me, looking at me. I was suddenly certain that she’d seen my butt when I’d bent over to get a drink, and now she was in the bathroom with me. Why?

“Hey?” I heard her voice and it made me frown. “You shouldn’t leave your books out here, someone might take them.” Her voice was soft, sort of melodic, kind of sing-song. I thought maybe she was teasing me; it had that friendly, almost intimate texture.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even breathe. I just sat there on the toilet, holding my skirt around my tummy with my arms crossed, my knees together and my feet side by side on the floor, with my panties, puddled around my ankles.

“Helloooo…” she sang softly, definitely teasing me, I thought. She seemed to giggle a little. “What are you doing in there?”

“Huh?” I managed to say in barely a whisper, but it sounded loud to me.

“Are you going number one? Or number two?” Her voice was coming from just on the other side of the stall door. I was sure she was standing there and if I’d bent down just a little more I probably could have seen her feet under the door.

“Um…” It was like I had to think about it. “Number one.” I managed to answer as if it were any kind of her business at all.

“Cool!” The door pushed open and I was horrified to see her standing there, smiling at me. “Can I watch?”

“What?” This was so far beyond the realm of possibility that I had a hard time believing it was really happening. Nobody had ever done this to anyone before, I was sure of it. In my experience, limited as it was, public bathrooms were like invisibility booths. Except at school, I mean, but you know what I’m talking about. People, strangers, don’t talk to you there! They don’t look at you while you’re doing it!

I had no idea what to do. My mind was a total blank and I couldn’t even think to move. I just stared up at her in shock.

“Shhh.” She was smiling and stepping inside, taking up what precious little personal space I had left. Our legs were almost touching, me as I sat there, her standing in the much too small stall. She managed to close the door behind her, leaning back against it, and it had happened so fast I barely knew what she was doing until it was done.

“Uh, what?” That was the best I could manage in the way of protest.

“I’ll let you watch me, too.” She was undoing her shorts, peeling them down her long white legs quickly and I realized she had no panties on at all.

I’d never known a girl who didn’t wear panties before. That dumb thought asserted itself bluntly, and I stared at her pussy as she exposed herself completely to me. She’d shaved herself completely so that she was smooth and pink and my mouth was suddenly dry. I had just a little patch of hair, barely worth noticing, growing just above my slit. I’d been so happy with that sign of my budding maturity, and now here was a full-grown woman who had shaved all hers off!

Her pussy looked like mine, sort of, except mine was a little darker. My lips were small and thin, the little button of my clitoris barely noticeable except once in awhile if I’d been washing myself, or riding my bike for a long time. It felt good then, when it seemed to grow a bit, and I’d heard some girls at school talking about rubbing it, but I’d never done that.

This woman, though, her pussy looked fat, her lips were more pinkish on the outside and bulged out just a little. I could see her clitoris, her button; it sort of looked like the tip of an eraser. I stared at it as the woman reached down, putting her fingers on each side of her sex, thrusting her hips forward a little more.

“Do you like it?” she breathed, “Take a good look. Closer… get closer,” she demanded, and I complied, not knowing why.

I was leaning forward until I could smell her, sort of a musky, sweaty smell. “Yeah, baby girl… right there.” And she moved one of her hands to my face, stroking my cheek. I jerked slightly away, but her fingers slid around behind my head.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, my voice barely audible, even to me. For some reason, I was letting this strange girl take control of me. I couldn’t resist this, my first overtly sexual experience of my life. I was yielding, pliant, and dare I say it? — even willing, wanting to let her direct me.

“You’re so pretty,” she was saying, ignoring my question and pulling my head gently, but forcefully until my nose was almost touching the soft pale swell of her sex. “So pretty… kiss me there… kiss me!” She used both hands to cradle my head as I was bent over, my mouth suddenly finding itself pressed to the uppermost cleft of the woman’s vagina.

“I… I don’t want to…” I was trying to say, but maybe I did. I couldn’t tell. My heart was beating faster and my tummy churned, like I was sick, but not physically, just emotionally. I wasn’t supposed to be doing this.

“Yes, you do… come on.” I was already touching her skin with my face, with my lips. Her hand was strong behind my head and I shivered a little and I was as scared as I’ve ever been in my life. But not of her, I was just afraid of what we were doing.

And I didn’t know what we were doing. I’d never even heard of such a thing, not even in the most dirty talk I’d ever heard at school. I’d been protected all my life, sheltered by my parents and now, here in some public toilet, a stranger was introducing me to sex.

I felt the warmth of her skin on my face, the softness of her, the sweet and musk scent of her body filling my nose. I instinctively brought up my arms, my hands, trying to push her away as I felt a sudden attack of guilt. This had to be wrong, whatever it was. She was a girl, this was a bathroom and I was supposed to be alone.

But I wasn’t pushing hard enough, if at all, because when my hands touched her smooth warm skin I jerked them away. I was moving my face, trying to turn my head, but she was holding me, balanced on that toilet, just a frightened girl. I could feel her moving too, so that her pussy moved too, across my mouth and cheeks. I felt her clit touch my nose, like it was tickling me.

“It’s okay… kiss it… open your mouth, lick my pussy,” the girl kept saying and I felt like I was going to cry and I finally did touch her more with my hands, pressing my palms to her thighs, but I wasn’t fighting her. It felt good to be held, can you understand what I mean? She was holding my head in her hands, forcing me, but gently, not hurting me, and it was confusing. I wanted to be close to someone, maybe like that, I wasn’t sure, but I liked it. Part of me, a small part really didn’t mind that she was touching me and even pushing her sex in my face.

I’d never had a boyfriend, never been kissed, never had anyone who wanted to hold me like that and touch me. It was overwhelming me, like a rush, like love almost — or at least what I imagined love must be like. I was scared, guilty, and excited all at once.

I heard her voice, soft and gentle and I found myself doing what she wanted. I opened my mouth, just a little and she rewarded me with a sigh, her soft plump slit sliding down across my lower lip, pulling it down and out and then her hard little clitoris was there.

“Kiss it… kiss it for me, sweetie,” she sighed and I did what she wanted, digging my short fingernails into her skin as I kissed the woman’s clitoris. “Oh, suck it… you can do that. Just suck it a little bit…”

I was flying, like I do in my dreams sometimes, feeling weightless and dizzy and I didn’t know how to suck it, but I did. I put my lips together and I felt the hard little nub of her clit between them. It was like sucking the tip of my little finger, sort of, no bigger than that and I just sucked it like a straw for half a minute. I didn’t know if I was doing it okay or not, but she must have liked it. The woman was massaging my head, my scalp, playing her fingers in my hair and not holding me at all anymore. I was sucking her all by myself.

“Now,” she breathed, “… lick it for me, use your tongue… all over… lick me, baby girl.”

I did it, feeling like I was doing it to myself, which was really weird. My sex was throbbing and I’d forgotten all about peeing. I was wet down there, but it was something else. I was on fire and my boobs were growing, my nipples hurt, really hurt a lot and I wanted to hurt them back. I wanted to pinch them because that seemed like it would make them feel better for some reason. But all I did was hold the woman’s legs and I licked her pussy.

Slowly at first, just a little in case it was gross. But it wasn’t; it didn’t really taste like very much at all at first, but then it did, when she moved a little and my tongue was in her, only a fraction of an inch maybe, but inside her and I could taste her all of a sudden so strong it made me jerk my head a little. It was like my tongue was numb almost or burning, like acid from an orange, or too much soda. It was tangy and strong and the woman caught me, pulling my mouth back.

“Don’t stop… please, don’t stop.” She was moving more now — up and down, standing on tiptoe sometimes, and my head moved to follow her. I tasted more of her and there was a lot of her juice suddenly, and I had to swallow it. She was moaning and then holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe. It was like I had her whole sex in my mouth and she was digging her fingers in my hair, grinding her pussy into my face.

“I’m coming… oh God yessss…!” she hissed, and the sound echoed through the bathroom. I was seized with fear as she went stiff, just freezing for a second, and then started moving wildly. There was a lot of wetness all of a sudden, like a little flood and her sex took on a new and even stronger flavor if that was possible. I swallowed hard, choking for air as I tried to breathe, and I was hot and humid and sticky all over. There’s no words for it really, I’d never had an orgasm in my life and here I was swallowing the nectar of this stranger’s orgasm, drinking it almost eagerly.

The woman relaxed her grip on me slowly and it was like she was shrinking a little, getting smaller as I panted for air. I was wet, my whole face covered with wetness. It had spilled down my neck and the collar and front of my blouse was damp and stained. I glanced down to see my nipples dark and hard and plainly visible now. I’d been sweating and my whole body was sticky and flushed.

“Ummmpph…” She surprised me when she kissed me. I hadn’t even been looking at the woman, but her hand was still on my neck and she pulled my mouth to hers as she leaned down.

I’d never experienced a real kiss before and I was dazzled by the sensation of her warm, wet tongue in my mouth, wiggling around, touching and caressing me. I wouldn’t have tried to stop her, even if I could have. It was a kiss, a real one, and it was the best thing I’d ever felt in my life up until then. I didn’t have the wits to kiss her back, or do anything but sit there, shaking with adrenaline. I was beyond everything now, guilt and fear, I couldn’t even remember those. I was just there, just doing what she wanted.

When she touched my breasts I almost melted, my whole body just sagging against that welcome pressure. I wanted more and I let her hold me up, her hand squeezing my tender flesh. She was kissing my cheeks and chin, and licking at my face like an animal, tasting herself and then returning to my mouth, sharing it with me.

When she moved her hand down between my legs I didn’t do anything but spread them for her. She wanted to touch me, and I wanted it too.

“Your turn. Come for me…” she was whispering and I nodded, I think, or something. Maybe I even tried to speak, but I couldn’t even breathe and she was kissing me hard, her fingers touching my little sex, rubbing my slit, playing across my tiny clitoris.

I was throbbing all over, but especially down between my legs. My clit felt huge, ten times bigger than normal, bigger than me even, bigger than anything anywhere. It was all I could think about and I was squirming on the toilet seat, kicking a little with my legs as if I might find some purchase to press my sex harder against the woman and her fingers.

She opened my cunt easily and I realized I was soaked down there, not just a little wet, but well and truly soaked. I felt her finger curling inside, slowly, tickling me as it slid deep into my virgin sex until I could feel her touching something else. It hurt, just a little, like a pinch.

“Shhh.” She pulled her mouth away, letting us both breathe hard for a moment and her eyes were so bright, even in that dim and dirty light, they were like magnets and I stared back until she was kissing me again, her left arm sliding down my back, pulling me against her body and I felt that pinch again. She pushed her finger inside me hard, cupping my sex in the rest of her hand as if she could lift me from where I sat.

I felt a flash of pain, just a lightning jolt of fire inside me and I made a muffled sobbing sound and it was gone, just like that, leaving me with an ache really, another sensation beneath the others.

She didn’t move her hand after that, not for a long minute, maybe two, she just kept her hand against my pussy, her long thin finger pressed stiffly inside me. She’d broken my hymen, taken my virginity, so quickly I’d barely noticed and the pain hadn’t been so terrible at all. It was there, but I still felt good too. I was rocking my hips, sucking her tongue. I was close to something, something big and soft and warm, lurking inside. It was trembling in my blood, aching to come out and I groaned into the woman’s mouth as she started moving her hand.

She was coaxing me to come for her, rubbing my sex gently, moving that one finger inside me slowly, but deliberately, pressing it here and there, occasionally it hurt, but mostly it didn’t and I never wanted it to end. Never, ever in a million years, and especially when I felt my body surrender finally.

I had my first orgasm.

It was like my body had been turned inside out. I arched my back, pushing down against the pressure on my sex, moaning and shutting my eyes so tightly that it made me cry. I had my arms around the woman, I’d been holding her all the while, but now I was hugging her, clutching at her. I was rocked with spasms of pleasure that bewildered my inexperienced body. My mind was numb and hopelessly confused. I was coming hard and it was beautiful.

“Are you okay?” The woman was asking me. She was breathing hard, like I was, and her pretty face was red and she was smiling.

“I think so,” I whispered. My eyes were wet and I stared as she pulled her hand away from my sex, wincing slightly at a small bit of discomfort when she eased her finger from my slit.

“Do you want me to kiss it?” she asked. She was looking at me and then she looked at her hand and so did I, both of us seeing small smears of blood on her finger.

“I’m bleeding,” I said softly and I looked down, as if I might see something, but I couldn’t. There were some small drops of blood in the toilet bowl, but not a lot and they were already dissolving away.

“It’s okay, sweetie… you’re fine. Here, I’ll kiss it… make it feel better.” She was kneeling down on the dirty floor, not caring at all that she was going to be putting her face almost in the toilet bowl.

I felt a little touch of my fear returning and a lot of the guilt. The pleasure was fading, the excitement that had filled me and pushed all of my doubts away, was going. I wanted to get away suddenly and it seemed unfair or something. I still felt good, but it was like panic, almost, and I had to fight the urge to get up and run.

She was in front of me, pulling my hips forward, coaxing me to lean back a little. She kissed my pussy, gently and softly and her hands were on my legs, on my tummy, sliding up under my blouse to feel my bare skin.

“It’s okay… I won’t hurt you again,” she was telling me. “I just want to make you feel better.”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see her pretty white face as she kissed my sex. Her lips were soft and moist, like her breath, and it did feel good. I was tense and stiff and I had to remember to breathe, but it felt nice and I did finally open my eyes.

She was licking and kissing me, playing with my clitoris and making it throb again. She was pushing the tip of her tongue between my lips, inside my pussy just a little bit, feeling the tightness there and tasting my recent orgasm — tainted with my virginal blood.

I swallowed hard and gnawed at my lower lip, my face filled with distress I think, more than pleasure, but only because I was concentrating so hard. I wanted it to feel good again, like before, but it was different now. I couldn’t lose the fear. I’d done something wrong, I thought, I’d changed and it frightened me. I wasn’t a virgin anymore. I didn’t know what that meant, it was impossible to know right then, but I knew it meant something.

She kissed me for five minutes, I think, a long time and I felt warm and my tummy was tight, but I was too scared and maybe she knew it.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” She told me, kneeling up with her back straight so that her head was almost level with mine. “I’m Jennifer, I’m your friend now, right?”

I nodded, but I didn’t say anything. I just watched her eyes, wanting to believe her, wishing she were really my friend, but I felt so little right then.

She was between my still spread legs, her arms around my body loosely, and she pulled me closer, kissing my mouth softly and then standing up. I watched her pull up her shorts and she gave me a last look and a gentle smile before she left the stall, pulling it closed behind her. I listened to her footsteps as she left the bathroom and when I knew I was alone once more I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I reached for the toilet paper, wadding a small handful and dabbing it against my sex carefully. I was a little sore, but it wasn’t bad. Just tender really and there was just a little blood on the toilet paper. I used more, pressing it deeper and finding more blood, but pretty soon there was hardly any at all. And I’d been thinking, trying to understand what we’d done. It had felt good. She said she was my friend.

“Jennifer,” I said out loud, just whispering it for my own ears.

I got up, pulling up my panties carefully and I felt my pussy protest inside like I had a sharp cramp when I moved too quickly. That could have been in my head, though, since I kind of wanted it to hurt. It reminded me of her, of the woman, every time I felt it and I didn’t want to lose her. I mean, I didn’t have anything else but my memory and I already couldn’t remember some stuff, especially when she’d taken my virginity. It was all like a dream, the little pain was real.

I washed my hands and face in the sink and thought about her. I kept thinking about her and I would be thinking about her. All that night and the next day and the day after. I’d think about her until I could see her again. I’d talk to her when I saw her again.

I felt stupid and dumb for having been so awkward in her presence, just like a little kid. I could have talked to her, but I didn’t. I didn’t even tell her my name. I felt my heart like it was too tight, being squeezed, and my stomach was hollow. What if I never saw her again? I was more frightened of that than I’d been by what we’d done.

I couldn’t bear that, the idea that I wouldn’t get to tell her my name. I wanted to talk to her and touch her, just one more time. I wanted to say I was sorry because I didn’t know what we were doing. I wanted to promise her that I’d do it better next time. I wanted to tell her I loved her.

I picked up my book bag and unzipped it. Finding a pen, I went back into the stall and started writing.

The End