Samesex/sensprud.ff
                                          A Sensual Evening for a Prude
                	Krissy was a Prude.  A stereotypical, old-fashioned-puritan Prude.
                                                 	
               	Well, perhaps not *quite* puritan.  Despite the best attempts of her
           parents, she was very much agnostic and took great pride in her rational view
            of life.  She also abhor religious ceremonies of any kind, being a shy loner
                at heart.  Quite eloquent on paper, she can never seem to speak up.
                  	However, she is the stereotypical Good Girl, having put herself
                 through college and was halfway through her Ph.D.  program on at a
             prestigious institution of learning.  And men were not--had never been-- a
                                         part of her life.
                 	Well, again not exactly.  She had gone on dates with exactly four
           men, and considered herself in love twice.  One would-be boyfriend spiked her
             punch at a party--with insufficient dosage-- just as she was making up her
                  mind to yield her virginity.  The other she had had to throw off
           unceremoniously as he exhibited all the symptoms of possessiveness and insane
                                             jealousy.
               	And so she made up her mind to be alone.  For a while, that was fine.
                  	Except that loneliness could become truly unbearable, as can be
                attested by *anyone* who has been alone.  That made Emily a godsend.
               	There were many things said about Emily, some of them even accurate.
             One of these was that she was never without a warm smile or a willing ear.
                      [How could I have coped without those, Krissy thought.]
               	It was a rainy May evening, and Krissy was back at her neat dorm room
           after setting in motion an elaborate synthesis expected to last for 72 hours.
            Getting out of her usual attire-- t-shirt and jeans-- and laying them neatly
                on the chair by the bed, she sprawled herself on the bed in just her
                  underwear.  For some reason the sheet felt strange on her skin.
               	She reached out to the CD player, her only luxury, and turned it on.
                                                 	
                 	"Ich weiss nicht was solles bedeuten, das ich so traurig bin..."
               	The melody of Silcher's "Lorelei" floated up in the air.  It was her
                         favorite song, but she grimaced and turned it off.
                   	"Not now," she murmured, and got up as if to find another CD.
           Changing her mind, she picked up the dormline and quickly dialed five digits.
                             	"Hello?" Sounded Emily's cheerful voice.
                                       	"Krissy here, Emily."
                                       	"You are back early!"
                  	"Yeah, nothing more to do for the evening.  Want to come over?"
                   	"I am busy with some stuff, how about like, um, in an hour?"
                                      	"Sure.  See you then."
                                                 	
                    	She hung up and flopped herself back onto the bed, a little
               petulantly.  "Emily *has* to be busy now," she thought aloud, "Murphy
                                        triumphs as always."
                                                 	
                  	Picking herself up and putting on a nightshirt, she opened her
             dresser drawers under and eyed the rather monotone assortment of underwear
                                              therein.
               	"Perhaps I *should* buy something different for once." She muttered.
                                                 	
                                        	She took a shower.
                                                 	
                	About a quarter of an hour later, she was sitting on her bunk bed,
            running a brush through her shoulder-length sandy-blonde hair impatiently in
                                  front of the 3/4-length mirror.
                                                 	
                  	"What is with me today?" She wondered critically at the mirror.
                                                 	
               	The reflection showed an athletic 6'1" frame of mostly bones, muscle
            and sinew, apparent even under the loose nightshirt.  At a bony 124 lbs, she
            has no curves to speak of, but there was an air of forceful elegance to her
             slim torso and legs.  Large blue-gray eyes were set in an oval face with a
             classic high forehead and well-formed nose.  The complexion was pale (from
               long hours in lab), but there was always just a tinge of a blush.  It
            *should* have been a handsome (*not* cute or pretty) face with a smile, but
             now -- like recently -- the forehead creased and the corners of the mouth
                curved down in a severe frown.  She also looked like as if she had a
                                   headache-- as indeed she had!
                                                 	
                	"Maybe I *am* too thin," she thought.  She had ample reason to be a
           bit upset.  That very afternoon, she had overheard by accident a conversation
            between two (males) of her lab group, during which she was referred to as "a
                                    stick that no one fancies."
                                                 	
                	With a sigh, she reached up, held her head in her hands and started
            her usual massage routine: Forehead ovals-- nose clamp-- cheek boning-- jaw
                    boning-- lip trace-- eyelid touch--neck spirals and kneads.
                                                 	
                  	"That feels really good!" She thought, laying back to enjoy the
              sensation for a while, then she sat up again, and begin to rub her tired
            shoulders.  She had always tried to keep a good posture, but lab is a tiring
                 place regardless.  She relaxed more as her knotted muscles unwound
                                            themselves.
                                                 	
                	"This gets in the way," she thought, and threw the nightshirt over
             her head, tossing it on the ground carelessly.  Picking up a bottle of oil
               she sloshed it liberally into her hands and splashed some on her bare
                                             shoulders.
                                                 	
               	She continued to massage her tired shoulders, then moved to her arms
              (roll--twist--twist--roll), and then hands (mold palm--turn hand--finger
           screws--wrist flex).  Having gotten a book on basic massage (from Emily) as a
             birthday present, she had come to love it, it is so good after a tiresome
                                                day.
                                                 	
                	Finishing the hands, she hesitated a little.  Suddenly she smiled.
            What are you afraid of, she chided herself, as she reached behind to unhook
                                              her bra.
                                                 	
                	Two firm, small and pointed cones tipped by diminutive nipples came
            into view.  (Even though Ann Landers' column convinced her, via the "pencil
            test" that she did not need any bra for support, but somehow she always felt
            strange without them.) She started again, now on the frontal torso routine:
               rub-down middle- chest-- up the sides-- fingers step-up the sternum--
                                palm-knead breast-- figure-8 trace.
                                                 	
               	She paused unaccountably and scrutinized herself in the mirror again.
              The door opened noiselessly as she turned away, but she did not notice.
                                                 	
                 	"I suppose "no tits" just means anything short of a bopper," she
              thought indignantly about the overheard conversation again, running her
              well-oiled fingers around her nipples in the pattern.  It felt good.  So
             good, in fact, that she absent-mindedly repeated the movement a few times
               more than was called for by the book.  When she noticed, there was an
             disturbing feeling somewhere in her mind, and she noticed that her nipples
               were engorged with blood and standing erect.  She blushed rather more
                              prettily than she'd be willing to admit.
                                                 	
                 	"Not again," she thought, "well, can't help it, really." She laid
             herself out on her stomach, and ran her hands over her back as far as she
                   could reach.  She rested with her eyes closed, almost--but not
            quite--contented.  Most of her upper body felt relaxed, but some part of her
            back still feel tight.  Some unplaceable also sent strange signals, and her
            tired brains registered the fact that her still-hard nipples tingled against
                                            the sheets.
                                                 	
                    	"Would be nice if my arms reach," she murmured to herself.
                                                 	
                 	In her dimming consciousness she felt something rubbing down her
           back, miraculously releasing tension in the middle-upper back where her hands
            could not reach.  She sighed with pleasure.  There was some vague feeling of
            being tapped briskly with a concaved palm.  Something squeezed the balls of
             her shoulder, and kneaded the muscles from an angle that wasn't available
              with her hands.  She then felt her derriere squeezed through her cotton
                                              panties.
                                                 	
                	"Would be better on bare flesh," she muttered semi-consciously, and
            smiled with approval as something warm came magically between the fabric and
             her skin.  As her panties were slid off toward her feet, she felt her slim
                            buttocks being rolled and rubbed together--
                                                 	
                	Her consciousness suddenly returned with a shock.  It had not been
                 herself, but someone else, someone experienced, doing the massage.
                                                 	
                	With a yelp and a swift twist she flipped faceup and coiled herself
             together, her right palm flexed straight into position for a swift karate
            chop.  It was a fraction of a second before she swung when she realized who
                                              it was.
                                                 	
                 	"Emily! You gave me such a scare!" She said, hastily pulling the
                  covers over her naked body and turning a deep shade of crimson.
                                                 	
                  	"Hi, Krissy-- Did not think I needed to disturb you," said the
            brown-haired girl.  obviously collecting herself from *her* scare.  She came
           close and hugged Krissy, covers and all, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
                           	"How is it, kid?" She teased affectionately.
                                                 	
               	"Okay, I suppose," said Krissy, cringing a bit at "kid". At 5'7" and
            119 lbs. Emily is a lot closer to the usual definition of a beauty, but she
                               was certainly not the *bigger* woman.
                	"Something on your mind? You sounded kind of down when you called."
               	"Well, yes." Krissy admitted dubiously.  It is no use trying to hide
                something from Emily and that get frustrating from time to time.  "I
            overheard a couple of jerkos talking about me this afternoon and it rankled.
               I also did not sleep well last night and drunk too much coffee today."
                                                 	
                     	Emily smiled, revealing a set of even and shining teeth.

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                           	"That is no excuse to get so tense, Krissy."
                                                 	
               	There was something magical about Emily's calm voice, Krissy thought,
             as Emily reached out to touch her bare shoulders.  "Your shoulders are all
                 tight again, did you just self-administer an upper-body massage?"
                                                 	
                	Krissy admitted to it a little sheepishly.  "It was all your fault
            sneaking in on me like that," she added, half-petulantly and half jestingly.
                                                 	
               	"In that case," said Emily, "I suppose I should make up for it." With
              a swift motion she picked up the bottle of oil and spread some over her
              hands.  "Here, lie down." Krissy felt herself being laid out on the bed
            facedown.  Something pulled the covers away from her back, sending a slight
           shiver down her spine.  She reached instinctively to pull up her panties from
                     around her knees, but Emily gently but firmly stopped her.
                                                 	
                           	"Just enjoy and don't worry." And Krissy did.
                                                 	
            A pair of hands was placed on the base of her neck and started twisting the
             flesh.  Krissy could feel her neck loosen themselves under her deft touch.
           Soon the fingers were tapping her shoulders softly in a way she never thought
           possible, and as the fingers left the shoulderblade she purred with pleasure.
                  	The hands spent quarter of an hour with her back, starting with
             effluerage and ending with the fingertips firmly pressing down in several
           locations that seemed to restore her tired muscles to just like new.  Must be
            something like reflexology, she thought to herself in the clouds.  Then they
              left her momentarily, and a second later she felt the covers leaving her
             lower body entirely, but she did not resist.  After all, she knew that it
              would be good.  The hands removed her panties and deposited them on the
              ground, and grabbed hold of her feet.  She felt pressure applied in many
            different places, and strangely, they seemed to make every other part of her
              come alive.  Something, however, seemed to be missing and her analytical
                        brain registered it somewhere for future reference.
                                                 	
               	After another quarter of an hour or so, The hands started running up
               her legs and then kneecap and thighs.  She vaguely remembered herself
             wondering why she never felt so good when she administered self-massages.
           "Emily must have lots more experience," she thought, as the hands reached her
                       buttocks and rolled and kneaded it.  She sighed again.
                                                 	
               	"Maybe you want to flip over and allow me access to the other side?"
                        Emily said softly, jarring her out of her thoughts.
                                                 	
                	"Uh, er..." she hesitated a little.  Somehow, the idea of appearing
             completely naked to someone else, even a women, and a best friend at that,
              seemed a bit distasteful to her.  Emily sensed the edge of the thought.
                                                 	
                     	"That's fine if you don't want to.  Good night, I guess?"
                                                 	
                 	"Um, thanks a lot, Emily," she said, getting slightly ashamed of
               herself for some reason, "er...  was there something missing from the
             reflexology or whatnot bit on the feet?" She asked for something better to
                             say after a slightly uncomfortable pause.
                                                 	
                  	"You could *feel* the missing part? Not bad!" Said Emily, half
                                playfully, "you want me to finish?".
               	"Well sure.  I just felt it," said Krissy, slightly perplexed, "I was
                        wondering what it was about that seemed--misplaced."
                                                 	
                  	Instead of an answer, Emily grabbed hold of her feet again and
             started manipulating.  Almost instantly, Krissy felt something different.
             Something peculiar, even, about this touch.  It--felt good, no doubt about
                                             it, but...
                                                 	
                 	She felt some part of her warming up in spite of herself.  With a
            slight start, she realized that her nipples felt funny again.  As time went
                              on, she felt--an yearning for something.
                                                 	
               	"Well?" Emily half-whispered.  "Do you want to turn over and have me
             finish off?" Krissy almost started.  Something seemed to be ringing in her
              ears.  She wanted to say no--but somehow it wouldn't come out that way.
                                                 	
                    	"Sure." She whispered throatily, surprsing herself with its
                 intensity.  She turned herself over, with her eyes tightly closed.
                                                 	
                  	"No, no, not if you are so tense." Emily said.  Krissy tried to
           relax.  She did open her eyes, but somehow she seemed to be trembling inspite
              of herself as Emily's elegant hands reached out for her collar-bones and
             started running inwards--toward her breasts.  She almost cried out as the
            fingers ran patterns through her areola, and did when the hands squeezed her
           small but sensitive breasts and brushed her nipple.  She felt herself on fire
            when she felt pressure on her nipples -- Emily was twisting the tiny little
              buds between two fingers.  She felt herself heating up--heating up--...
               	The pressure suddenly left her breast, but the heat did not leave her
            body with it.  She felt pressure going down in a slide on her body, pressing
              the bottom of her ribcage, then further downwards, running over her flat
            stomach.  She managed to catch her breath.  Unbeknownst to her at the time,
              she was now blushing more than on her face-- she was flushed *all*over*.
               	The palms slid down her slender waist and went a bit toward the back,
             reaching behind her and met.  She felt herself lifted off the bed and then
           let down again a couple of times, as the hot feeling grew.  The palms pressed
              her sinewy buttocks a few times and returned to the front.  She felt the
              fingers glide smoothly and slowly toward her nearly transparent patch of
                 golden pubic hair as the heat in her body converged there as well.
                                                 	
                 	The heat seemed to leap like flames as did her mind.  Somehow or
            other she realized that tufts of her pubic hair were being lightly tugged at
             one by one at the roots.  It should feel painful, she thought, but it did
             not--perhaps because she was slightly pushing herself up in time with the
               regular tugs.  Her muscular legs parted slightly, exposing a trace of
              pinkness of her inner labes--the outer labia was just a little open, and
            shiny as well.  The leaps of the flames seemed to have merged into a inferno
              by now.  She felt, miraculously, fingers tugging and parting her labia.
             Something plucked at her inner lips, making her even hotter-and hotter-and
            hotter, and eventually something-- a fingertip-- went inside her as another
                  *very* lightly rubbed her now fully exposed button of feminity.
                                                 	
                 	She did not remember much else, because a couple of seconds after
               that, she let out a shrill scream as her mind exploded in an array of
             fireworks.  More stars than she'd ever seen before, and never had she felt
                the like of this before, even when she, a bit guiltily, "played with
                                             herself".
                                                 	
                	When she came to, she felt the heat receding from her body and she
                      opened her eyes timidly.  Emily was smiling down at her.
                                                 	
               	She held out her hands and the two women, one dressed impeccably and
                one naked, embraced for a minute.  Emily rested her head on Krissy's
           shoulder, and kissed her, very very lightly, on the cheek.  Krissy remembered
            feeling the touch of Emily's fine brown hair on her skin to be kind of like
            feathers, and thinking about the picture in the massage book that depicted a
                           woman running her long hair over a man's back.
                                                 	
                            	"Should I say Good-Night?" Emily inquired.
                                                 	
                  	"Was that an *erotic* reflexology thing that you did the second
              time?" Asked Krissy, coloring again very prettily but not resisting the
                question.  The scientist had taken over again as she fully awakened.
                                                 	
                   	"Well, yes, but I did not want to do that at first because--"
                 	Emily hesitated, the first time in the evening that she displayed
                              anything less than complete confidence.
                                                 	
                                              	"Yes?"
                	"Because I did not want you to think that I was 'making a play for
                              you'." Said Emily, flushing *slightly*.
                                      	"Huh----?! Oh, I see."
                                                 	
                	She remembered some things that started to make sense now.  People
                   talking-- women staying over at Emily's place-- her company--
                                                 	
                 	"You are a lesbian, aren't you." She said, making it sound like a
                statement rather than a question.  Funny how that is, she thought to
            herself-- somehow people never saw things that are staring them in the face.
               	"Well, I am bisexual-- I never really tried to hide it, but I did not
           go out of my way to tell anyone, and I wasn't sure if you'd known and how you
                       would react so I did not really want to take a chance"
                	"Well, did you really thought about making a play for me?"  Krissy
          looked into Emily's feline-green eyes, trying very hard to convey the fact that
                          she sincerely wanted to find the honest answer.
                                                 	
                                    	Emily thought for a while.
                                      	"Yes." She said simply.
                                   	"And you didn't because...?"
                          	"I don't want to risk ruining our friendship."
                                                 	
                 	Krissy sat up.  Her voice shook a bit, and she trembled slightly.
               	"Thanks." She said, and held Emily tight.  When she let go, her eyes
                            were shining a little.  "Good-Night, Emily."
                	"Good-Night." Said Emily at the door, as she turned out the light.
                                                 	
                                            ************
            Krissy still remained a Prude after this.  She still stuck to her busy days
             and nights in lab.  Sometime later, she enjoyed the company of her former
           boyfriend-- who seemed to have grown up a bit-- for a year or so, before they
            all graduated and she decided to go her way--alone, and still a prude.  But
              never would she forget one particular evening, one Sensual Evening for a
                           Prude.  It was a memory that will be forever.
                             to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories 
                                                  

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