I Fucked a Lesbian

Man, Emma's inexpert manipulations were doing a number on me. Pretty soon, I was fully hard and sticking straight out.

"Wow," she marveled. "That's a lot bigger than it started out. I'm impressed."

"Thank you," I stated appreciatively. It had been a long, long time since anybody had been impressed about anything regarding my body, particularly my cock. "It's just a little over average, but I've never gotten any complaints."

"I've managed to get you ready," Emma said with pride, "but I feel like I'm overdressed now."

"That's easily remedied," I said, pulling off my socks and shirt until I was fully nude in front of my wife's sister's wife.

Emma started to get undressed, but I reached for her hands to stop her.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" I asked to her puzzled look.

"Uh... no, I guess not."

"One thing to keep in mind: I'm not here to try and prove any point. This wasn't my idea, and I'm not out to convert you. I hope when you come away from this, your conclusion is that straight sex isn't any better or worse than you're used to, it's just... different. A different way to express your feelings and make yourself and your partner feel good, is what I'm saying."

That said, I lowered my head and kissed my first lesbian.

Now, I'd never had any romantic thoughts toward Emma before, but given the nature of the task I'd accepted here, giving her as positive an experience as I could seemed like the ideal path. Besides, while I said earlier that I wasn't trying to convert her, the male part of me wanted to give her at least a taste of what she may have missed all those years.

Now, as I said, I don't know what kinds of things real life lesbians do with one another, but one thing I learned quick: this girl liked to kiss!

At one point, Emma backed away enough to laugh, "This is the first time I've kissed anyone with facial hair." She followed it by rubbing her upper lip.

"Is that bad?" I asked.

After a moment's thought, she replied, "No. Like you said: it's just different."

Smiling at this, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers once more. As I did so, I began working the buttons on her shirt, as she'd been doing before I stopped her.

When the last button was undone, I backed my mouth off hers, saying, "If there's anything you don't like, or you need me to slow down or stop, just say so."

Emma merely nodded, clearly getting into the situation, regardless of her hardwired gender preferences. Her body just knew it liked the sensations it was feeling; at that moment, it didn't particularly care who was giving them to her.

It wasn't that I was immune to what was happening, either. My cock stood proud and dripping at kissing a woman like this. It was the first time I'd given anyone but myself their first experience sexually. I found it quite arousing.

Gently pulling her shirt off, I caressed the exposed skin while I continued making out with my sister-in-law's female lover.

I rushed nothing. It wasn't difficult, considering we'd started out without amorous intentions. Still, the feel of feminine flesh beneath my hands, beneath my lips, was revving me up pretty handily. I just had to remember that this was ultimately to give Emma as positive an experience as possible, not necessarily to get me off. Let's face it, though: it wouldn't be a complete experience if ejaculation wasn't a part of it.

Her shirt off, the next step was the bra. Deftly unhooking it one-handed, I gently tugged it off her shoulders, then away from her body altogether.

Some part of me half expected Emma to try to cover herself at being exposed like this. However, her hands never came up to hide anything, but her body language said she dearly wanted to. Though she never said a thing, I think she reasoned: I was standing there totally nude, why should she be embarrassed?

Now, let me take a moment to explain: neither Emma, nor I are what you'd call supermodel material. We aren't going sell many records by the album cover alone, if you know what I mean. However, neither of us are gargoyles, either. We're just more-or-less average folks, like the great majority of people out there.

That said, the more of Emma's body that was revealed to me, the more I liked it. Then again, to paraphrase the movie Tombstone: I'm a man. I like women. I could see apprehension in Emma's face, but she never attempted to hide herself from me.

As a heterosexual male, my first inclination was to go right for the tits. However, I curbed that impulse for the moment and just kept kissing.

My hands continued to roam, down her smooth skin, over maybe a few extra curves, until I reached her jeans.

Keeping her lips occupied, I worked the button on her jeans, then unzipped them. Emma tried raising her hips to help from where she sat, but it was no use.

Laughing, I backed away and found a sheepish grin on Emma's face. This time, I let her dig her thumbs into the waistband of the jeans, and watched as she wriggled and gyrated to get them off her hips, then off her ass.

Before too long, they were below her butt, but no lower. She wore white satin panties, but I couldn't get a real good look because of the remaining presence of her pants.

I said, "Let me help," then went to my knees as Emma laid back on the bed and offered a foot. Grabbing one leg of her jeans, I gave a tug, then another before they finally let go. Going to the other, we finally got her pants taken care of.

Emma had been wearing sandals when this began, so there was no need to deal with shoes or socks. With her jeans gone, the only article of clothing between us was the white satin covering her most private part.

"You still okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she finally sighed. "I've just never been like this with anybody but Michelle for so long, and never with a man. I'm not sure how to react."

I got off the floor and sat on the bed beside her. "To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure there ought to be a big difference. Aside from nature's purpose for sex, the corollary purpose is to feel good, and if you have a partner, to hopefully make that person feel good, too.

"Maybe this is just the male in me speaking, but it shouldn't take a lot of thought. In fact, the male in me thinks if you're enjoying yourself, I'm going to enjoy myself. For most guys, an aroused woman is possibly the most erotic thing on the face of the planet, so please, don't hold back, and don't be afraid to direct me where you'd like me to go. I want this to be as good for you as I can make it, and that's only going to be possible with your input."

Emma nodded, then stood up, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slicking them down her legs in one smooth move. Stepping out of them, she made no move to sit back down or cover herself up. She simply stood there and let me look.

I could tell she was working hard to maintain the strength of will to put herself on display for me. As I've mentioned several times already: neither of us is young anymore, and age is the cruelest eroder of a person's confidence. I could tell that, even though her preference romantically was not members of my gender, she was nervous about what I'd think of her body, no matter how bravely she presented herself.

I took the chance to admire her body, flaws and all. The honesty in those years lent its own degree of beauty to what I saw before me. She hadn't shied away from my body, and while, like most men, I don't dwell on my shortcomings (no pun intended), I'm still realistic enough to know I'm no Adonis.

The look of desperation Emma turned toward me when I said nothing was heartbreaking. She was taking my silence as disapproval. Of course, being no youngster, the loss of direct stimulation had caused my erection to take a leave of absence. I couldn't be sure, but that may have been part of her alarm and disappointment, thinking my lack of stiffness indicated a displeasure with the body I saw before me. Subsequently, I felt some triage on the situation was necessary.

Smiling, I got up and stepped in to Emma, pressing my body against hers.

"You're beautiful," I told her gently.

Emma stared into my chest. "I'm just deluding myself here, aren't I? A saggy old dyke who can't even keep a straight man hard."

I hooked a finger under her chin and looked down into her uncertain eyes. "Don't worry about him. He still has a mind of his own, but not quite like when I was younger. Then, he was like a dog who'd seen a squirrel, popping up at the slightest provocation in the hope he'd get to run around in the underbrush for the thrill of the chase. These days, he still perks up, but he takes more convincing than he used to. If he isn't needed for work right away, he's more than happy to sit things out in the break room until it's really necessary for him to come out and do his part. It's a sad, sometimes frustrating thing about being a guy.

"So trust me, it isn't you. I'm in this room with a naked woman. You can't believe how happy I am about that. The up-and-rarin'-to-go guy will be back. It won't take much. You're the first naked woman other than my wife I've seen in person for more than twenty-five years. That novelty alone will get me going again in no time."

I smiled down at Emma's skepticism, then lowered my head to kiss her once more.

Stepping back a bit, I caressed my way down her face, her throat, till I came to her breasts. Yes, of course they sagged: fifty-some years of gravity will do that. Even so, they were great tits. Cupping each one in turn, I raised the soft weight to my lips and gave a kiss to each nipple. The tightness of the areolae was nearly rough beneath my lips, the nipples themselves firm and hard at being touched by someone other than Emma herself or her regular lover.

From her beautiful tits, I kissed my way up that soft slope, over her shoulder, up her neck and across her chin, back to her lips. The kiss this lesbian gave me held more passion than I think she expected to display. It was certainly more than I'd expected to receive. Nevertheless, she seemed to accept my explanation. In fact, my cock had left his coffee cup in the break room and was getting ready for some fun.

While we kissed some more, I let my hands do a little roaming. For an old broad, Emma had a pretty damn nice ass. Again, it wasn't the ass of a twenty-year-old, but I sure liked it. My cock liked it, too.

And then I felt Emma's hands slip down over my hips and back to my cock and balls. I didn't bother hiding my moan. It's always nice to feel someone else's hands on you: especially your private bits. It wasn't until I felt not-my-wife's hands on my genitals that I realized how well I'd gotten to know the feel of Beth's hands on me. Not that I dislike, or have gotten bored with, her touch, I just didn't realize how "used to it" I'd become, if I could tell a difference between her and Emma.

When I stopped kissing her and straightened myself, Emma's hands stopped, too.

"I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" she asked, fear evident on her face.

"Not at all," I admitted. "It feels great. I was just wondering if you'd like to just concentrate on what you're doing for a little while."

"Uh, sure... I guess. You mean with my hands, right?"

I grinned. "I mean with whatever you feel comfortable using. I don't think you're going to be doing anything that doesn't feel good to me, so would you be okay if I took it easy and let you explore some more?"

Emma seemed a little flustered by my offer. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess so. You don't mind? I mean, yours is the first one I've ever seen up close like this, and since it's unlikely I'll ever get the chance again, I suppose I'd better take advantage while I can, huh?"

I just laughed. "Like I said: whatever you want to do. This isn't about me. If you'd rather not, I'm okay with that, too."

"Okay," Emma started. "I think I want to. Can you lay back on the bed?"

"Sure," I said, sitting up against the headboard. "I hope you don't mind if I watch. I'm a guy. We like to see what's happening, especially where sex is concerned."

Emma muttered, "Okay," then climbed onto the bed and got between my legs.

I have to admit, supermodel or not, this nude lesbian looked pretty damn good, all stretched out like she was preparing to give her first blowjob and wasn't sure where to begin. Laying on her stomach and propping her front up gave me both a good view of an ass I was appreciating more all the time, and a truly spectacular view of a set of tits I really wanted to get to know better.

Now, as I'm sure you can imagine, my cock was anticipating the feeling of a warm mouth closing over it. I mean, it's kind of the thing you usually expect when the two of you are these positions. However, I was trying not to let such expectations get my hopes up too high: after all, I'd done my best to convince Emma that this was to go at her pace, not mine. I just had to make sure I held myself to that promise...

The look Emma gave my cock was one of wonder. I couldn't remember anyone looking at any part of me the way she was viewing my genitals just then.

While, as I said before, some part of me expected her mouth to come in contact with my privates, this didn't happen. Instead, this woman who had only ever known women once more used her fingers on me, the fascination with body parts different from her own fueling her exploration.

And Emma got right up close, too; so close, I felt her breath on my skin, felt it in my pubic hair.

"Smells different, too," she said without taking her eyes off me.

She slowly traced her way around the ridge of my cock head, up the sides of it to the crown, then back down again, just so she could move over a small fraction and do it all over again.

When a clear drop appeared at the tip, she glanced up at me questioningly. I just shrugged. I wasn't about to apologize. It was a natural reaction.

"He likes you," I told her simply. Emma blushed slightly and with a sheepish grin reached for the drop.

Gently, she just broke the surface, then pulled slowly away, watching the crystal arc form between her finger and the remaining drop.

Smiling, she said, "That isn't a whole lot different, is it?"

Having played with Beth's personal lube before, I agreed, "No, not really. Doesn't really taste quite the same, though."

Emma continued to play with my pre-cum, her gaze locked in fascination with it. "I didn't think guys did that kind of thing. Tasting themselves, I mean."

"Oh, I doubt you'll get many who'll admit it, but I'd say more have tasted themselves than you think," I told her, voicing a personal philosophy of mine.

"Really?" Emma responded.

"Absolutely," I said without equivocation.

"Do you?"

Now was my turn to blush. "Since we're being honest here: yes, I do. Not often, but on occasion, I like to buck society's supposed norms, even if I'm the only one who knows it."

"Does Beth know?"

"Yes, she knows. It isn't something I'm ashamed to admit. I'll even kiss her after she gives me head."

"Really? Sounds like you are a rare one."

I moaned as Emma started to smear the clear fluid over the head, just as another drop appeared. She grinned and began coating my head with that one, too.

"I just figure, 'what the hell,' y'know? It's just between her and me, and if it doesn't bother her, why should it bother me? Too many guys let too much bullshit get in the way."

Emma laughed, "Trust me, women get slammed with a lot of stupid hang-ups, too. It's always nice to meet someone who knows who they are and doesn't really care what anybody else thinks."

I wanted to ask personal stuff about her and Michelle, since I'd told her personal stuff about myself, but I'd offered willingly; she hadn't really asked for as much information as I'd divulged. So, I just kept my questions to myself.

As Emma began to run her fingers lightly down the length of my shaft, I just laid back and enjoyed. My cock head glistened with the pre-cum she'd varnished it with, and before too awful long, there was another drop waiting. This one, she ignored for a while, and it merely grew until it couldn't grow anymore, finally streaking down my erect shaft, over Emma's fingers and into my pubes. She giggled lightly and continued caressing and fondling.

"This is kind of fun," my lesbian friend admitted.

"Thanks," I said after a brief moan of pleasure. "Hell of a lot of fun from this side."

"This old dyke's doing okay, then, huh?" Emma laughed.

"You're doing fucking spectacular," I told her, following it with another moan.

By now, there was an almost constant stream of clear fluid running down one side of my hard-on. "Boy, he really does like me, huh?" Emma asked.

"Told you so."

"So, how different does this stuff taste?" she said, tracing the trail from the puddle forming at the base of my cock all the way up to the source of the wetness.

"Only one way to find out," I told her, wondering if she was that comfortable yet.

"How true," Emma said then popped her pre-cum covered fingers into her mouth.

I moaned even louder at seeing her do that. So far, the only fluid exchange that had occurred was some saliva as we kissed. This was taking it another step or two along.

After almost a minute, she pulled the fingers from her mouth. "Not at all bad," she admitted. "I still think I'm slightly more inclined toward my own, but that would be me."

"I think I can say, even without sampling, that I would most likely agree with you. Maybe I'll get the opportunity to do a more thorough test of that later."

Emma smiled. "I think I'll be taking you up on that." Oh yeah, she was definitely getting more comfortable with all this.

"I can hardly wait," I started, but it finished with a gasp as Emma's fingers followed the trail of pre-cum all the way back to the tip and started rubbing all over just that concentrated little area.

"I don't know if I'm ready to take this the next logical step," she said after a quiet chuckle at how sensitive my cock was obviously getting from all her play.

"Take your time," I said as evenly as I could; a difficult proposition considering all the attention my cock had received, and was still getting.

"How about I spend some time with these?" she asked, bouncing my balls in her hand.

"Won't hear any argument from me," I said, happy for some relief for my cock. I wasn't sure I had more than one cum in me, and even though having her play with my balls would still build my arousal even higher, I'd be much less likely to lose it if she explored something else for a while.

Emma had been marveling at my balls quite a bit, watching as they moved and shifted all on their own. She saw how they wanted to pull up tight as she stroked them, so she played for a bit, then left them alone until they relaxed once more, grinning with childlike delight the whole time.

Her playfulness made me smile. I couldn't remember the last time Beth played with my genitals with such amazed glee. Not that she doesn't enjoy touching me, it's just that she's done it before, and I think the sense of discovery has worn down.

After several minutes, Emma looked up and said, "Thank you for doing this for me."

I smiled. "You're very welcome. I'm actually surprised Beth went for the idea. She's really very possessive about the notion of going outside our relationship."

Emma idly fluttered her fingers against whatever they'd reach. "Yeah, I've heard the story. To be honest, I don't blame her. Michelle's a lot the same way.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, why did you agree to this?"

That put me in a spot. Was there some underlying reason to have agreed to something as unusual as what we were doing?

"Uh, I haven't really given it much thought. You were there. It wasn't like I was allowed to think much. If I'd been able to do that, I'm sure I'd have scared myself out of it."