Girls Only: The Hairdresser Read Free

were pretty well drunk and
masturbating together on the bed, I still wasn’t sure she wanted to go that far.
    “You taste
so fucking good.” She slid the dildo out of me, licking the length, sucking the
head into her mouth as she knelt up between my thighs. She was so beautiful she
made me dizzy and watching her suck that cock was hot. Hotter than hot. My
still-fluttering pussy ached in response.
    “I bet you
do too.”
    “Want to
find out?” she asked.
    I nodded,
too eager, but god, I did want to. So very much. I tingled all over at the
thought of her hot, pink flesh under my tongue.
    Jen
stretched out on her back, spreading her long, slender thighs, and then her
pussy, her perfectly manicured French nails slowly peeling back the layers like
ripe fruit. My mouth was watering. She circled her clit with one finger,
shivering, her nipples growing hard, as if there was a direct connection
between the two.
    I watched
her touch herself, taking my blouse and bra off completely, and finally
unzipping my skirt. When that was gone, I was left just as naked as she was. I
settled myself between her thighs, just like she had between mine, but I wasn’t
armed with a dildo. All I had was my tongue and my fingers and I wondered if
they would be adequate. She was rubbing herself furiously now, her breath
coming fast, her cheeks rosy and flushed.
    My pussy
ached. She was so beautiful—I could have stayed there and watched her until the
end of time. I knew I was hesitating. We’d already gotten naked and played with
ourselves—and each other—but somehow this felt like crossing a line that
couldn’t be explained away in the morning as two horny drunk girls just having
a little fun.
    “Oh please,”
Jen begged, spreading her swollen pussy lips in front of me. “Your tongue.
Please!”
    It was her
plea that decided me and finally did me in. I hadn’t done it in a long, long
time, but it came back to me in an instant. Not so much like riding a bike or
driving a car. More like breathing after being underwater for a long time. She
tasted like sweet heaven, pungent and strong, and I took my time getting to her
clit, wanting to really take her in, exploring every slippery crack and
crevice.
    “Mandy!” she
cried, impatient, her hands moving to my hair, guiding me. She wanted it, almost
as much as I did, and I covered her with my mouth, warming her with my breath
before focusing my tongue against the hard little nub of her clit. I felt her
shudder, heard her breathe a sigh of relief—finally, finally, she was on the
right path, headed in the direction of ecstasy.
    Licking a
girl’s pussy for the very first time is always an experiment. Does she like it
hard or soft? Fast or slow? Fingers or no? It’s all trial and error. We women
are far more complicated than the masculine rub and thrust release. I dialed my
tongue around her clit, searching for the most sensitive spot. We all have
one—mine is a little right of center, about two o’clock. Jen’s was opposite
mine. I could tell I hit the spot when she cried out, her hips jolting upward
involuntarily toward my mouth.
    Once I’d
navigated to the perfect place, I stayed there, knowing how desperate she was,
how much she wanted it. If she hadn’t been so hot for it, I probably would have
teased her more, nuzzling her thighs, licking at her labia. She was so
baby-soft and smooth! But I didn’t have the heart to make her wait. Besides,
her hands were buried in my hair, hips rocking and rolling, heels dug deep into
the bed.
    “Ohhhhh
fuck!” Her guttural cry made my tongue flutter faster, harder. I knew it
couldn’t be quite as intense as her vibrator, but I also knew how sweetly
delicious a tongue was focused right at that magic spot. Nothing could quite
match it or take its place. I slid my fingers through her slit, feeling how wet
she was. If I’d been worried about soaking the bed, it didn’t matter—Jen was
even wetter than me, and I didn’t think that was