A Taste Of Girl

My running partner is lesbian. Following a run, when we are both sweaty and in possession of an elated ache, I have often remarked that I want to gobble her up. After eight miles this weekend, at a café, Alice called me on my bluster. I had an appointment, so we couldn't play then, but, after emphasizing that this would be a one night stand only, I agreed to meet her in the evening at her place.

She is femme. When I arrived, she wore a white tank top and a denim skirt each of which left precious little to the imagination. I had on a summer dress, but was wildly overdressed for the occasion. It was awkward to start. We had glasses of wine and made uncertain conversation. It took me an effort to stare at her eyes instead of her legs. That she kept them apart simplified the task in no way.

Outside, it began to rain. The typical British drizzle transformed into a sudden squall. We stood on the balcony and watched the sky spill.

Alice pushed off the railing and kicked her feet off the ground. Her calves and her thighs had been sculpted with an artist's care. The skin was smooth and unblemished. The muscles stood out in relief. I noticed the florescent green of her underwear.

I went to my knees behind her. I caught her right ankle as she lowered her other foot. Slipping off the flip-flops, I licked along the Achilles tendon. I kissed to the back of her knee and set her foot down again. My hands smoothed over the backs of her legs. I reached up into her skirt and felt the soft flesh of her buttocks and the powerful muscles underneath. The thong, thankfully, left her cheeks exposed. Tiny goosebumps appeared like archipelagos on her thighs. I kneaded her. I needed her.

I stood and she turned and we kissed. Her tongue played softly against mine. Eyes closed, our noses bumped. She took her glasses off and set them on a small table.

Raindrops splashed off the railing and the balustrade. I felt them on my bare arms.

I turned and sunk to the ground so that I squatted against the wall, which supported my back. Alice clutched the railing and leaned her body over me. She flipped up the minuscule skirt, and I peeled the panties from her legs. She kept her pussy trimmed. I had seen it in the shower at the gym before. But I had never looked at it as closely as I did now. Her lips were small. The pudenda were twin hills that folded over the tiny labia between them. The clit hid at top. Alice was visibly moist. I smiled in the knowledge that I had made her so. I brought my nose to her pubis and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of a woman. She smelled of cut flowers. I hoped that I smelled so clean.

My hands went to the tops of her thighs and coaxed her legs apart while I rubbed my nose from side to side through her tuft of hair. Extending my tongue, I licked along the slit. She tasted a bit salty, a bit sweet, and so very savory.

I took time licking over the little hillocks of pubis. The tiny hairs rasped against my tongue. I breathed in deep draughts of her smells. My lips made a seal on either side of hers, and I sucked in air through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. I warbled my lips and flapped my tongue at the gate. The knocks announced my intent.

Fingers prised open her labia. The dark pink of the flesh shined with her arousal. I lapped at the inside of her folds, but didn't stretch my tongue into the opening. I studiously avoided the clitoris.

My hands held her buttocks and tilted her groin toward me. Alice lowered her pelvis to my mouth. I responded with a tease, turning my head to the side, maneuvering away to lick at her thigh in place of the cunt. She ground her pussy into my cheek, and when I didn't react as she hoped, she pouted. I took my time anyway. My hands soothed up and down the fronts of her thighs. Her skin was so smooth.

I tongued the raindrops that beaded on the skin.

My arm stretched up. I squeezed her tits through the thin top. Then I lowered the arms and used my hand to rub the outside of her cunt. The surrounding flesh shook. The skin was darker than before. The odors were stronger. She was wetter. She tasted more robust - ferric, I would say.

I crooked two fingers up and pressed their backs against the folds of Alice's cunt. Her moans were soft and high-pitched. She sounded like she was sniffling.

"Place me inside," I said. I offered my hand.

She took my wrist and brought the fingers to her opening. Legs bowing at the knees, she lowered herself onto my hand. Once within, I straightened the fingers and scissored them apart. I rotated the base of the hand and felt the slickness of her muscles. Her pussy squelched around me. I rubbed my own cunt through the layers of cloth.

My fingers fucked in and out rapidly. The knuckles of the hand became drenched in the waters that escaped her pussy. In the intervals between vigorous, rapid thrusts, I lapped her clitoris.

I have little conception of how long this continued. I was content to lean my head against the wall and lick forever. The rain stopped, and still I mouthed the pussy. My effort ended in Alice's orgasm. Her body went entirely stiff. Her thighs squeezed my face. She ground against my chin and let out an expressive moan. The muscles in her thighs went rigid. The muscles in her vagina contracted about my fingers. The wetness sluiced in the narrow gap between them as the walls caved in.

She tasted exquisite. There was a lightness to her come, an aftertaste almost like fruit. I licked it from my fingers. She collapsed to the ground and tasted herself from my lips. After this, it was my turn to receive. Alice raised my dress. She was a cannibal on my cunt. Her eyes glinted as she ate. I wasn't as quiet as she was. Legs spread apart on the floor of her balcony, I wailed and screamed.

Republished with permission from Leah Lays London. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.