Chapter 1

Janet arrived home after rushing from the massage parlor where she had her first lesbian encounter. She pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, but didn't move from her place behind the wheel. She was simultaneously thrilled and terrified by what had happened, what she had let happen with Sherri, the beautiful masseuse. Her body trembled all over. Her mouth was dry while her pussy was slippery-wet. Her tiny thong, she noted with a nervous laugh, felt like she'd gone swimming in it. And her skin... tingled.

Janet gripped the wheel and closed her eyes, trying to settle her breathing and slow her racing heart. But that only made things worse, because with her eyes closed, she immediately pictured Sherri, topless before her, playing with her erect nipples and swollen pussy lips. This wasn't calming at all - in fact she was afraid she would hyperventilate and pass out at any moment. With grim determination, she grabbed the door handle and hauled herself out into the cool spring air.

She closed the car door and began to make her way, on wobbly knees, to the main entry of her house. Janet shuffled along while fumbling with her keys, looking for the one that would free the deadbolt. Beneath her breath, she cursed the keys for being so difficult. She also cursed her knees, the driveway, the sunshine, and that damn bird singing in the distance.

To the outside observer, like the next door neighbor who watched her unsteady journey from behind his privacy hedge, she may have looked a bit drunk. He might have noticed that her hair was a bit of a mess, her skin shiny from massage oil and sweat, and that her breasts swung freely beneath the loose fabric of her summer dress.

Had he looked carefully, which he probably did, he'd have seen a dark stain in the back of her dress, just below her ass, where her sexual secretions had soaked through on the drive home. And like any discrete voyeur, he would have focused his attention on trimming the hedge when she looked around before stabbing the elusive key into the lock, not wanting her to feel like she was being watched.

After turning the key the wrong way several times, Janet was finally able to work the lock and let herself into the house. She sighed with relief as the heavy door clicked closed. Janet leaned back against the cool, smooth wood and let her eyes adjust to the relative darkness. She stood there for a minute, pondering what she should do. Janet took stock of her situation. Hair - wrecked. Dress - dirty. Panties - beginning to chafe rather badly. Bra - lost! Skin - sticky. And thirsty - very thirsty.

Finally Janet was beginning to get herself back under control. She ran her fingers through her hair, putting it somewhat back in place. Then she strode to the laundry room, stripped off the dress and thong and threw them in the washing machine. "Better," she thought. She kicked off her sandals, and made for the kitchen, her pussy rings, now freed, clicking together with each step. The sound, so familiar, was soothing.

From the fridge, she pulled out a cold beer, twisted off the top, and tipped it up. "Oh... much better," she said to herself. "Nearly human again." She sipped the beer and stood staring out the kitchen window. Lucky, her newly adopted dog was in the back yard, chasing a squirrel. Janet smiled, remembering how Lucky fucked her senseless the day before. Her now quiet pussy twitched at the memory. "Later, baby," she whispered to the dog. Before letting herself get all riled up again, she set the beer down and headed for the master bath.

Chapter 2

Sherri contemplated her encounter with Janet as she drove. She glanced over at Janet's bra lying in the passenger seat, and then set her gaze out the windshield. Light strobed through the glass as it poured through the tall trees in alternating sunshine and shadow. Something about Janet was different from the others; she could feel it deep down. But what? She couldn't put her finger on it. Curiosity burned along side her ever present lust.

Sherri had, on that very massage table, seduced hundreds of men and women. She was a self proclaimed nymphomaniac, a slut in every sense of the word. For her sexual favors at the parlor, she made great "tips". In her off time, she frequently put on sex-toy parties for the girls (like Tupperware, but more fun) and entertained at bachelor parties for the guys.

She frequented porno arcades and services the glory-holes. Sherri felt that she was the ultimate sexual adventurer. There was nothing she hadn't tried: gangbangs, double penetrations, lesbian love, bondage, anal, extreme penetrations with beer and wine bottles, giant dildos, and double fists. Well, not everything, she grudgingly conceded - she wasn't interested in scat or golden showers. But everyone has their limits.

Sure, she frequently got paid for sex, but she also gave it away more often than not. So by definition, she wasn't really a prostitute, but could certainly be considered a whore.

"Janet paid me for the handjob," she said to herself. "But I'm going to give her the rest for free." She smiled at the thought of finishing what she'd started. With perfect clarity she could recall the lovely scent of Janet's inflamed passion. And those rings through her nipples and pussy lips! Sherri glanced at the post-it with Janet's address and giggled. Her destination was only a couple of miles further.

She couldn't understand why, but the sense of expectation continued to nag at her. Not the expectation of sex; she knew that to be a given. Sherri felt like Janet held the key to something different, a new path in her sexual odyssey. The prospect gave her a thrill beyond her normal state of constant arousal.

Chapter 3

Janet shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. The room was warmed by a lingering steam that shrouded the mirrors and left every surface slightly damp. She didn't like to use the draw fan, preferring instead to repaint the bathroom every couple of years as the moisture did its damage.

Janet ran her hands over her scalp, forcing the excess water in her hair to cascade over her neck and back. The motion caused her breasts to rise and fall delightfully. With the oil washed from her body and replaced by the sent of perfumed, moisturizing soap, she felt refreshed and relaxed. Her skin was silky smooth all over.

Just as she reached for her towel, the phone rang. Expecting my call, Janet ran from the bathroom naked and dripping, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the hardwood floor. The towel was forgotten. On the third ring, she snapped up the receiver in the living room and nearly shouted "Hello!?!"

I laughed at the abrupt answer and said "Hi Hunny, just called to let you know I made it." I had just arrived in San Francisco on an urgent errand for my employer. "Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound winded."

"Hi, Danny. No, I just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. I had to run to catch it."

"Oh?" I smiled, passing my amusement along in the tone of my voice. "So, you're... naked?"

She sighed, pretending exasperation. "Yes!"

I chuckled. "I see. Did you just get up?"

"No, I went for a massage and..." she trailed off. Janet knew she had to tell me what had happened, but wasn't sure how to start, or if this was the best time. Sensing she had something on her mind, I began to pry.

"What's up?" I asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just, the massage kind of turned into..." She told me, briefly, about her encounter with Sherri. When she finished, we were both silent for a minute. "Are you mad?" she asked.

After a momentary hesitation, I said "No. Just sorry I missed it. I had hoped to be there for your first time with another woman."

As Janet and I talked about what had happened, a car pulled up at the curb out front. Janet watched as the driver's door opened and Sherri stepped out. She gasped. "Oh, my God!"

"What? What's wrong?" I asked.

"She's here," Janet replied, sounding distant.

"Who?"

"Sherri! From the massage parlor!" As Sherri walked toward the front door, Janet noticed she had something in her hand. The sun glanced off the fabric just right and she new instantly what it was. "She brought my bra back!"

I could tell Janet was very rattled. "Oh Shit! What should I do!?!" I had the cell phone pressed to my ear, trying to divine what she was wanted me to say. In the background, I could hear the doorbell from fifteen hundred miles away.

"Get the door," I said.

Janet protested and rather pointedly reminded me she was naked.

I took the blunt approach. "So what? She's already sucked your titties and fondled your pussy! Get the door!" The doorbell rang again.

"But what am I going to do?" she whined.

"You're going to enjoy your new friend," I said. "You can tell me all about it when I get home tomorrow." Not wanting to give her any more time think about it, I hung up.

Janet stared at the phone in her hand, disbelieving. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself. She shook her head and dropped the phone on the couch, then marched to the door.

Chapter 4

Just as Sherri was about the press the button again, the door opened. Sherri's jaw dropped when she saw Janet standing there naked, her body dripping wet. The late afternoon sunlight flooded through the open door and caused Janet's skin to sparkle and shimmer ethereally. She was so stunned by the sight before her that she could find no words. For several moments Sherri just stood there, staring, letting her eyes roam over Janet's curves. Then, as if offering the proverbial olive branch, she raised her arm and held out the bra.

Janet was amused by the effect her appearance had on the masseuse. In those moments that Sherri stood staring, Janet reconciled her trepidation against my encouragement and her own desire. A quiet calm washed over her. As Sherri reached forward, offering up the lost bra, Janet gently took her wrist and pulled her into the house.

Janet smiled warmly at her guest, closed the door, and said, "I'm glad you came."

With the door closed and the harsh daylight blocked out, Janet's body was cast in shadows, and Sherri found her tongue. "Me too," she whispered.

By now, only Janet's hair was still wet; her skin was only slightly damp. She let go of Sherri's wrist and began to untie the knot holding the tank-top above her firm belly. "You won't need this while you're here," she said.

Sherri raised her arms so Janet could pull the shirt over her head, exposing her small breasts. Then Janet reached down and pulled loose the bowed drawstring that held Sherri's shorts up above her hips. "Or these." They slipped over Sherri's slender curves and silently piled around her ankles. Sherri stepped from her sandals and shorts and stood before Janet in just her panties.

Janet knelt on the hardwood floor at Sherri's feet, her face eye level with Sherri's panty covered crotch. The panties were a soft, well worn satin that looked purple in the dimness but were actually a deep, dark red. There was little fabric involved in their design; just a triangle in front held up by tiny straps that disappeared over Sherri's hips.

From this vantage, Janet couldn't see where the straps met in the back, or the equally tiny strap that snaked its way between Sherri's ass cheeks, but she knew the whole thing could be no more than a thong. It was a style she knew well since she wore thongs almost exclusively - unless it was that time of the month.

Janet let her hands slide up Sherri's thighs until her fingers reached the small garment. As she hooked the straps and began to pull them down, she noticed a tattoo. A small upside-down rose was tucked in near the crease separating leg from groin. Janet wondered at the symbolism as she dragged the thong down toward the floor.

Janet didn't let go of the skimpy underwear when Sherri stepped out of it. Instead, she held it in both hands and rose from her knees, the thong in front of her face. She met Sherri's eyes. "You got them all wet," she said, then let them drop to the floor.

Together, the women were a study in contrasts. Sherri is taller by several inches. She wears her black locks down to her shoulders, whereas Janet keeps her dark blonde hair short. Sherri's eyes are a liquid blue, Janet's a gold speckled brown. Janet's large breasts are easily double the size of Sherri's, but her nipples, though pierced and sporting twelve gauge rings, are smaller.

Janet's hips and ass are marked by voluptuous curves, Sherri's by slender athletic poise. Janet's body is adorned by a constellation of freckles while Sherri's is devoid of any such marks. Sherri's bush is thick and lush, while Janet's is sleek and flat, flowing into a distinct vertical line pointing the way to her sex. They are both incredibly sexy, each in their own unique way.

Janet led Sherri through the house to the master bathroom she had just vacated. "While you take a shower," she said, "I'll go fix us a snack."

Sherri wanted Janet to shower with her. "I'm not hungry," she pouted.

Janet pulled Sherri's mouth to her own and gave her a tentative kiss. "You will be."

Chapter 5

Sherri stepped from the shower and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. She was drying her hair, the towel flying about her head when she felt something warm and wet engulf her left nipple. It hardened immediately and was flicked by what could only be a tongue. Her hands stopped and the towel went limp, hanging all around her head. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel everything.

Janet had taken control - Sherri wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Usually, she did the seducing and she was quite comfortable in that role. As Janet continued to suckle and bite her small tits, she couldn't deny the way her body was responding. Her skin flushed, her pulse quickened, and her freshly scrubbed cunt began to flow with fresh girl juice.

Finally, Janet disengaged her mouth and slowly pulled the towel from Sherri's head. "There's a ring above your head, hanging from the ceiling. I want you to reach up and hold onto it with both hands," Janet explained. "Don't let go." Sherri looked up and saw the large ring within easy reach. She took it in both hands as she'd been instructed. She didn't have to stretch or strain at all, but the position conveniently kept her arms away from her body, giving Janet unencumbered access.

Author's Note: Now you may be wondering why there would be a ring hanging from the ceiling in the bathroom. I know, it sounds a bit far fetched, like I couldn't quite get the story to line up right and I had to write in something ridiculous to make it work. But the truth is that I broke my shoulder last year, and use the ring in my stretching exercises. Really!

As they stood facing each other, Sherri's arms over her head, Janet began to slowly sweep the towel along Sherri's shoulders, neck and chest, leaving the skin only slightly damp in its wake. It was an intimate lover's task, one she took her time with. Janet was in no rush. In fact she wanted this to last. She wanted to explore her new friend's body, inch by inch, and learn its deepest secrets. In that she hoped to learn something more about herself as well.

So, for several minutes, Sherri just stood there, eyes half closed, hands over her head gripping the large ring. Janet circled around her stealing away the water. When Janet reached her hips, kneeling on the floor again, Sherri spread her legs in anticipation. Slowly, carefully, Janet slid the towel around one thigh, then the other, then pushed it along Sherri's pussy through her open legs. Sherri sighed as the semi-rough terry cloth dragged past her swollen clit. She couldn't believe how erotic this simple act was.

Janet studied Sherri's thick, wild bush, her large protruding lips and finally her puckered anus. Her face was mere inches away and the scent of Sherri's arousal was making her head swim. It was delightful. As before, the towel continued moving slowly from one area to the next. Finally, Sherri was lifting one foot at a time and Janet was working out the moisture between her toes.

With Sherri standing firmly on two feet again, Janet folded and hung the towel up where it belonged, next to her own. Sherri sighed as Janet began the ritual all over again, but this time with her bare hands. Janet's touch was feather light, a subtle caress that left ghost hands lingering on the skin. Sherri tingled all over and began to pant; her arousal was burning away like a raging firestorm deep in her gut. She imagined her uterus glowing from the infernal heat. A rivulet of her sweet lubrication began to wend its way down her smooth, bare leg.

Sherri felt Janet's lips again, this time on her own. The kiss was gentle, almost pleading. Then a tongue was licking her lips and she sent her own out to greet it. They danced this way for a moment more. Then the kiss ended and Janet whispered in Sherri's ear. "This is my first time. Teach me everything."

Sherri's eyes flew open, then narrowed. "You're lying. Either that, or you're a natural."

Janet smiled at the compliment. "You're dry now. At least most of you are. Can we go to bed?" Her eyes searched Sherri's for approval.

Sherri returned the smile and followed Janet from the bathroom. The bedroom held a large, king-size bed, two night stands, a tall hutch with mirrors inset in the doors, and a simple dresser. Every solid horizontal surface was crowded with burning candles. The room smelled of pumpkin spice and roses. The blinds were drawn tight to shut out the world; shadows danced on the walls, cast there by flickering flames. The bed's comforter was pulled half way down, so that only the sheets were visible, like an open envelope waiting for a letter.

Sherri sat on the bed and pulled Janet down on top of her. Janet crawled up her prone body until they were nose to nose, her legs folded along Sherri's sides for support. With Sherri's knees at the edge of the bed, her feet hung down toward the floor, slightly swinging. Their bodies pressed together, nipple to nipple, tummy to tummy, bush to bush.

Janet looked into Sherri's hypnotic eyes and dipped her head for another sweet, inquisitive kiss. This time, however, Sherri was free to assert herself. With both hands, she cupped the back of Janet's head and pulled. There was no pleading softness, no gentility. Sherri's was a demanding, forceful kiss. A wet, mouth opened wide, tongue battle. The women moaned into each others mouths, with Sherri only releasing her hold long enough to suck in a fresh breath, then resuming her oral assault. Sherri was in charge again.

The burning arousal in Sherri's belly rapidly spread through Janet as well, infecting her with a sexual fervor. She began to squirm atop her lover. Just when Janet thought the kiss would never end, Sherri's hands moved from her head to her shoulders and began to push. Their lips separated as Janet followed the silent instructions. She began leaving a trail of licks and kisses.

They started at Sherri's chin, then slipped down her neck. A lick found a sensitive spot below the collarbone, then another at the upper most cleft of Sherri's shallow cleavage. Janet's hands each found a small boob, where they caressed the supple flesh, then squeezed and pinched, twisted and pulled the erect nipples. Her mouth found each nipple, but only briefly, then carried on its slow descent under the constant pressure of Sherri's insistent hands.

Janet's southward journey ended when her knees found the floor. Her face was poised above Sherri's steaming crotch, her nose opposite the erect clitoris. Again, Sherri's hands set themselves at the back of Janet's head. Again Janet followed Sherri's manual direction, bringing her mouth, for the first time in her life, to the lips of a woman's pussy.

When their lips met, Janet instinctively opened her mouth for the cuntal kiss. Sherri's pussy lips, swollen and pulsing, spread like a blooming flower before her. Janet's tongue slithered out, hunting, and found the wonderfully rich flavor of Sherri's excited sex. The flesh was slippery, soft, yielding, and Janet knew without thinking, exactly how to love this pussy with her mouth.

Sherri groaned. "That's it, Janet. Eat my sweet pussy," she commanded. "You know how, we all do." Women, it is said, have a natural understanding of how a pussy wants to be touched, kissed, licked and sucked. Those women who would deny this do so out of ignorance, homophobia, or denial of their own desire for oral pleasure.

Sherri began rocking her hips, drawing her pussy over Janet's chin, mouth, and nose. Her viscous juices coated Janet's face. Each time her clit banged Janet's nose or tongue, she cried out joyously. For Janet's part, it became of game of sucking Sherri's long lips into her mouth as they went by, or tongue-fucking her hot hole, or even capturing her protruding clitty, pinching it with her lips. As Sherri became louder, Janet became more aggressive.

She wasn't eating Sherri's pussy to pleasure her anymore; she was doing it for herself. She was selfishly filling her own carnal needs, drinking in the sexual essence of her lover, devouring her womanly offering. She felt like she had been starving for this her whole life, like there was nothing that could possibly be more important than this sensual feeding.

Sherri could not have anticipated Janet's need. She couldn't believe how hungry the woman was for her. She felt like Janet was trying to draw her very soul out through the opening between her legs. She was thrilled with Janet's enthusiasm, and at the same time a little bit afraid of her raw sexual energy. Finally, the intensity of Janet's lust drove Sherri over the edge. Her orgasm burst over her, sweeping her away, like a tsunami breaking over a long, flat beach. Sherri screamed.

Before Sherri came, Janet could sense her impending loss of control. Sherri's head flew from side to side, her mouth forming a frozen O shape. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her brow furrowed. The pressure at the back of Janet's head, holding her face firmly to Sherri's fabulous pussy slacked off.

The gyration of Sherri's hips became uncoordinated, more like an electric shock induced bucking than the rhythmic grinding of the last few minutes. And her flavor changed, becoming more tart than sweet. Knowing what was coming and not wanting Sherri to get away from her, Janet locked her arms around Sherri's hips, interlacing her finger just below her precious belly button.

Sherri's legs clamped around Janet's head and her body began to twist and thrash as the orgasm overtook her senses. Her earlier moans and cries were replaced by an animalistic wail, a siren song to all sinners of the flesh. There may have been words in Sherri's mind, but what came out of her mouth was a series of unintelligible syllables strung together in a raging torrent of pure sexual release.

Janet held on with all of her strength to the writhing, twisting body before her, her mouth never leaving the delicious pussy it had found. She would not be denied the wonderful cocktail that poured forth from the depths of Sherri's cunt as it spasmed in ecstasy.

Time abandoned Sherri. Her orgasm seemed to go on forever. Her whole body was wracked by wave after wave of exploding neurons; her ears were overwhelmed by her own screaming voice. Sherri's back arched sharply and her screams died away. Her eyes flew open. With her lungs finally empty, she found herself starving for air, unable to breathe. Her tortured clitoris rebelled. In that moment, it became so sensitive that Janet's oral caress became unbearably painful. "No more! Please, stop!" she yelled. Her hands found Janet's forehead and pushed it away. "Oh God, you're killing me! AHHH, FUCK, STOP!"

At last, Janet relinquished her prize and Sherri's spent body, held aloft in agony, fell to the bed. Her heart pounded in her chest, railing against her ribs. Her breasts rose and fell, her lungs whipping the air past her teeth and lips.

Janet stood up between Sherri's knees and stared down at her trembling body. When Sherri had recovered enough to return her gaze, Janet smiled and said, "I think I like your pussy."

Sherri groaned and closed her eyes again. "Really? I couldn't tell..." Then she broke into giggles. Janet joined her.