Samesex/sappho
                                       Sappho
                                    Susan & Judy
                  This was the first time that Steve had gone on a business trip since
             we were married.  It seemed silly to be worried about being alone.  After
              all I worked during the day and had my night course in French to fill my
                evenings, how could I be bored for three days?  But somehow after he
              was gone three hours, and as the clock struck 9 o'clock at night, I was
               lonely.  I tried to read but that bored me even more.  And somehow the
               idea of doing homework on a Friday night was depressing.  All I could
             feel was foolish.  Is this really the way a 28 year-old woman should feel
                                         when she is alone?
                 After all, it was just five years ago that I was single and alone many
             nights.  For a brief moment I thought of having an affair.  But I realized
                  quickly that I loved Steve and getting laid was not the answer.
                  I went to the kitchen and took a cold beer from the fridge.  As I was
               walking over to the stereo the doorbell rang.  Through the peephole I
                 could see Judy.  I opened the door and gave her a hug.  "Boy, am I
             happy to see you," I practically shouted.  "What's the matter?" she asked.
             Somehow in the telling, my plight of being alone for one night didn't seem
                                           too dramatic.
                   She had come over to find out my recipe for French Apple Pie.  Her
               husband's boss was coming over on Sunday.  As an act of friendship she
                            half-heartedly offered to visit for awhile.
                 Judy was younger that I.  Probably 22 or 23.  We were sort of friends,
               but more by convenience than by common interests.  She lived down the
                block and since our husbands worked together we got to spend a fair
                                  amount of time with one another.
                   This night she seemed a little strange.  She soon revealed that she
                and her husband had had a huge fight.  She came over as much to "get
             the hell out of that damn house" as for the apple pie recipe.  Her breath
           also had the distinct smell of Scotch.  In fact, I'd say she was as jittery as
                                               I was.
                   We both sat down on the couch.  I asked her if she wanted a drink.
             When she just looked up and said nothing I knew the answer.  I filled two
              large tumblers with Scotch.  One for her...and one for me; I progressed
                                        from beer to Scotch.
                   Judy talked endlessly about how awful her husband was.  Mostly her
              complaints were about how little money they had and how little sex they
               had.  Of most concern was that all of their sex involved some form of
                 bondage or pain.  "What ever happened to love and tenderness," she
               said.  Her words and actions were quite animated.  She seemed to brush
              against me quite often as she spoke.  And she seemed to sit a littel too
           close for two friends just chatting.  Quite frankly, I simply considered it my
            imagination, although, to be perfectly truthful, both the closeness and the
                                      conversation excited me.
                "I've been doing a lot of thinking," she blurted.  Then in graphic detail
                she discloded how she was determined to have an affair but couldn't
                 decide which guy at the office.  I said nothing.  She talked about
               tenderness again and gently placed her hand on my leg.  I could feel a
                                     rush of warmth in my body.
                  Probably less than a half hour passed and we were both getting quite
            bombed.  I started talking about my sex life with Steve more out of filling
                      the conversation void than consciously wanting to share.
                  I, of course, told her only the good things.  Suddenly she burst into
          tears and said, "I wish it was that way for us."  As she cried, I instinctively
                 held her and put her head on my shoulder.  Surprisingly my act of
              comforting was quite stimulating.  Her breasts pressed against mine.  My
                  holding her evolved to rubbing her back, and the stroking became
                  stronger and warmer.  Although I knew the Scotch was my excuse,
             clearly I was having a sexual experience.  Of course, at this level it was
                                          quite harmless.
                  For what seemed like forever, neither of us said anything.  Obviously
              she was miserable, but I was feeling good.  I wondered if this also felt
              good to her.  The whole thing seemed bizarre.  After all, we were hardly
                         Lesbians... or even close friends for that matter.
                   My mind kept wandering and imagining her in a flimsy negligee.  Her
            young firm body with full breasts.

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  I fought hard to get the thoughts out of
                     my mind, but the harder I fought the more they persisted.
                    The deafening silence (and my cascading thoughts) were broken by
              Judy looking up with wet eyes and saying, "I hope this doesn't frighten
             you, but I'm strangely attracted to you."  In a perfect world I would have
              pulled away.  But, as if moved by a force beyond my control, I placed my
              lips lightly on hers and kissed her gently.  Then again, and again, and
                                               again.
                   I could feel her open her legs.  All my thoughts wavered between "I
             shouldn't be doing this" and "I wonder what I'm supposed to do."  I could
              feel the moistness between my legs.  I reached down under her skirt and
                                      her panties were soaked.
                   My mind was fogged to say the least.  And though I always disliked
               oral sex (Steve's penis always tasted funny), I found myself strangely
             drawn to her pussy.  I dropped from the couch to the floor.  I tore at her
                soaked panties and put my head between her bush.  I just licked and
               licked.  The more I licked the more excited I became and the more Judy
                                              moaned.
                   She took my left hand and placed it on her breast.  Her breast was
             much firmer than mine and her nipples protruded nearly a full inch.  As I
                rubbed them, she moaned loudly and I felt the moisture gush into my
             mouth from her pussy.  Neither of us said anything.  However, I instantly
                       knew she was coming.  She dug her nails into my head.
                   Without a word she suddenly pulled me up from the floor.  I was led
               by the hand to the bedroom.  Neither of us spoke as we closed the door
           and undressed.  I studied her body; it was beautiful.  I felt shy but I could
              see that it pleased her to look at me.  Then in an instant she pulled me
                   down onto the bed.  The bed that I had only shared with Steve.
                    She lay on top of me and ground her clit into mine.  Her breasts
                rubbed against mine and her tongue darted in and out of my mouth.  I
             was realizing that this was my most exciting sexual experience.  I wasn't
             thinking of Judy, but how I had wasted all these years before discovering
                                        a woman's sexuality.
                 I knew there were things I should be doing.  I simply didn't know what
             they were.  However, it didn't take long for Judy to show me the ropes.  I
            wondered if this was a regular routine for her.  Or was it simply something
                      that happened.  But my body was trembling, so who cared.
                  She turned me around into the position that Steve loved and I hated.
            The famed sixty-nine.  But now I loved, loved, loved it.  No sooner did her
                tongue touch my clit than I came.  And soon she came.  And me again
                and her again.  To say how fabulous it was would require a count of
                        orgasms.  We both lost count at about a half dozen.
                   We both lay there exhausted but warm and happy.  I looked up at the
            clock and saw it was getting late.  I asked if she had to go.  "Do you want
                   me to ?" came the quick reply.  "No, No, No", I said quickly.
                     With that answer she turned me over and spread the cheeks of my
            buttocks.  Soon I felt what I thought was a warm finger.  Then I realized it
                         was her gentle tongue flicking deeper and deeper.
                  It drove me wild.  I both wanted her to stop and never stop.  Nobody
                had ever done that to me.  Steve once saw it in an X-rated movie we
              watched together and told me it was disgusting.  Judy continued for what
                  seemed like fifteen minutes.  Although my eyes were closed with
              pleasure, I caught an occasional glimpse of her.  as she was licking my
              crack, she was fingering herself.  She stopped working on me only after
                                       she made herself come.
                 As unexpectedly as this all started, it ended.  I was floating around,
                half asleep and half awake.  Judy jumped up and said "I've got to be
            going now."  She put on her clothing.  I watched her button and zip as if I
                was some guy at a strip show.  I just lay on the bed without moving.
                         Time had stopped dead.  "I'm not a Lesbian," said Judy.
                                       "Yea," is all I could say.
                                           "Really," she said.
                                              "Me either."
                    With that she turned and headed for the door.  She stopped midway
                         and said "Could I also get the Apple Pie recipe?"
                  I went to the kitchen still naked and pulled the yellowing index card
               from my recipe box.  She took the card and said she'd return it soon.
                                      I hope she does...real soon.to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories 
                                                  

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