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If you have been following my submissions, you will know that a little while ago, I opted to go for a buzz-cut instead of maintaining my shoulder length hair, which has been both liberating and erogenous, and not just for me!
What I had not considered was the reaction of my parents who I caught up with when they were back in the UK for a few days. It wasn’t that they didn’t like it — in fact my mother in particular was very complimentary about the way that it showed off my face. The problem for me was that it prompted some rather awkward questions.
I suspect that both my parents were beginning to notice that I wasn’t like most girls of my age on the basis that they had never seen me with, or heard mention of a boyfriend, which by now most parents would have probably expected.
It wasn’t that it was a hugely difficult conversation. I think it started off with my Mum asking if I was bothered that people might think I was gay with my new haircut, and evidently, I didn’t react in the way that perhaps she was anticipating.
I didn’t respond initially, and in hindsight, that delay in replying almost certainly gave me away. I guess that I always knew that there was going to come a point where I would have to admit to my sexual preferences, and I should have recognised that the haircut might be the trigger insofar as my Mum and Dad were concerned, even though that was not why I had gone for my new style — I was absolutely not trying to make a statement.
It was that delay that lead to my Mum saying quietly, but not in any way accusingly, ‘Is there anything you want to tell us?’
‘You’ve gone very quiet Andrea.’
After what seemed like minutes, but was probably more like 10 or 20 seconds, her next comment was ‘you are gay aren’t you.’ My Mum held her arms out and just smiled at me and said ‘come here.’
I got a long and very physical hug and my Dad put his hands on my shoulders.
So far this had gone a good deal easier that I could have ever hoped for. To cut a long story short, they were very accepting, and did not seem remotely perturbed. The only thing is, I was a bit economical with the facts.
The abridged version is that my Mum and Dad think I am in a relationship with Sam. Whilst this could be construed as technically correct, the love of my life is her Mum, and I have not been able to bring myself to share this piece of information with them yet.
In reality, it’s more complicated than that, and I’m not sure how any parent would react to the notion that their daughter is not only in a relationship with the mother of her best friend, but that her daughter joins in as well. That would almost certainly be too much information, so I am embarrassed to admit that I have let them think that Sam is the one.
On top of that, I think it would be fair to say that Helen and I’s relationship is to an extent, polyamorous.
I wouldn’t say that we are promiscuous, but we are not averse to meeting with, and having other like-minded females join in from time to time. I think sexually adventurous would be a more fitting description, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I am a very sexual girl who is acutely aware of my needs and desires to experiment.
I have had some of the most fulfilling sex ever, and because we never go behind each other’s back, there is no guilt. We share our experiences, and we have experimented with threesomes and foursomes, most recently with Lizzie as the fourth.
That said, Lizzie and Sam are becoming fairly close, although that has not prevented our playing together.
All of which leads me neatly on to a more recent liaison. Some time ago, I started to notice a lady of indeterminate age, but older than me, in and around the gym on occasion.
She is quite tall — I would suggest around 6 feet (or over 1.8m for the Europeans among you), with what I would describe as a feathery pixie cut, so short, but rather longer than mine. It is this that makes her look quite striking because her hair is somewhere between ash-blond and silvery-grey, and she wears wire rimmed glasses which add to her air of elegance.
However, she is slightly stern faced, although when she does smile, her face lights up and her eyes come alive. This, together with her remarkably long legs and outdoor complexion combine to give her a quite striking appearance.
I must have seen her ten or twenty times, but I could not place her. I was certain that she wasn’t a student, but she didn’t appear to be staff either, or at least, not part of the teaching staff.
Because of the amount of times we had seen each other, I suppose that she became what could best be described as a nodding acquaintance, but after my first hair shortening exercise, she suddenly became a bit more chatty, starting with just ‘Hi’ and more recently, a ‘how are you’ question, and as time has gone on, that flash of a smile.
She has started to frequent the gym more regularly, but she appears to be more into running and spinning than weights or rowing. She canlı bahis certainly has an athletic look about her, but if she is a runner, then I would have her down as a distance runner more than a sprinter, and she undeniably has the legs for it.
Over time, it seemed as if our workouts were becoming more synchronised — i.e. she was there more often when I was, but more conspicuously, she was starting to warm down around the same time as me.
I have said before that I am neither shy or modest, and for a good three or four weeks as I have gone to the showers, she has never been far behind me. The occasional glimpses my way have become more noticeable, especially as they have become longer, and she would follow me back to the changing room and by now, was engaging me in conversation, and it was that that lead to her asking me if I was up for a drink after my workout.
Actually, I wasn’t, as we had a tentative plan for Helen to pick me up on her way home, but I was intrigued, and said that I could grab something quick, but that I needed to make a phone call first.
I called Helen and let her know that I was going to stay on campus for a bit longer (and yes, I did tell her that I was stopping for drink), and fortunately, that probably helped Helen out as she was running a bit late and was able to avoid the detour to come via the University.
I opted for a banana shake, whilst my new acquaintance opted for a smoothie. I won’t bore you with a rerun of our conversation, but it turned out that she did work for the Uni, but in an admin role in a building on the opposite side of the campus from where I was based.
Her name was Freya (I love that name!), and she was very easy company. We did the same thing again at the end of a workout late in the week, and this time we had a longer chat, during which I found out that her mother is Danish, and that’s where name is derived from.
As I was preparing to leave, she offered to get us another drink and as I wasn’t in hurry, I stayed on.
At this point our conversation became a little more intimate. She had been getting ever so slightly touchy-feely, not in an ‘in your space’ kind of way, but just a touch here or there to make a point, and I was mesmerised by the length of her fingers.
She came back with the drinks, and out of the blue, and as she was sitting down she suddenly said, ‘I love your hair.’
‘Thanks’ I said, ‘I love it too.’
She said that she had seen me around quite a bit, and then almost didn’t recognise me after I’d had it cut, but repeated that she loved it, and that she thought it really suited me.
She pulled her chair closer, and in a much quieter voice asked me ‘do you mind if I ask you something.’
I had an inkling of what was coming, and sure enough, after my affirmation that I didn’t mind at all, told her to go ahead.
She hesitated a little, and then came out with it, almost in a whisper.
‘Are you gay.’
I decided to tease her a little.
‘Would it make any difference to you if I was,’ I asked.
Almost too quickly, she replied ‘no. Quite the opposite.’
I don’t know why I said it, but my response was, ‘well, I guess I am a little bit gay.’ And then, ‘actually, I’m very gay. Is that what you wanted to hear, and how does that make you feel?’
Freya took a deep breath. ‘I suppose it’s sort of what I wanted to hear. The thing is that I’m pretty certain I am, but I’ve never done anything about it.’
I asked her how old she was, and she replied with ’31, almost 32. I’ll be 32 in a few weeks.’
I sensed that she was getting a bit uncomfortable, and asked her if she was OK. She said that she was, it was just that it was a bit public where we were, so we moved to a corner table. There were not all that many people around, but I must admit that the corner was definitely quieter and therefore a bit more discreet.
Now that we were comfortably out of earshot of others, she opened up a bit. She said that she was not a virgin by any means, and in fact, in her 20’s had been quite promiscuous, but she still had a lingering yearning to be with another woman, and was certain that it would elevate her satisfaction levels. After a pause which I filled in with a couple of non-committal comments, she added that under pressure from a previous boyfriend she had been involved in a threesome, and found that she’d ended up much more interested in the girl than in her boyfriend.
We continued our conversation for about another twenty minutes, but I was reaching the time when I really had to get going. As we were leaving, I probed her as to what had prompted her to ask if I was gay.
‘Your hair,’ she replied. ‘I mean, I thought you might be because you weren’t averse to me looking when we were in the showers or when you were getting dried off and putting your clothes back on, and I came to the conclusion that the only way I was going to find out for sure was to ask you. I wanted to ask you before tonight, but I kept chickening out. I mean, what if bahis siteleri I had read you all wrong? That would have been a seriously embarrassing disaster!’
She asked when I was doing the gym next, and we agreed that we would do drinks again after that session.
I shared the conversation with Helen when we were in bed, and she probed me as to where I thought it was going to go.
She started fingering my hungry gash and wanted to know if she had ‘seen what I had got down there.’ I admitted that she had definitely seen me in the shower, and that in fact, in the changing room she couldn’t possibly have missed it, and with that out in the open, Helen started to wind me up.
‘So she’s seen your very unladylike cunt then — your big fuck hole. I bet she doesn’t know you like being stretched and fisted.’
‘Well it wouldn’t take her much to work it out would it?’ I taunted.
‘Do you think she likes your loose slot and big flaps.’
I was getting pretty juiced up — I love it when Helen starts talking depravity.
‘You’re getting wet you filthy girl. Because that’s what you are aren’t you — a filthy girl.
‘You know I’m a dirty bitch and you love me for it,’ I threw back.
‘A really dirty girl, just like your Mum.
‘Are you sure you should be playing with your daughter’s cunt like this?’ I threw back.
Any regular readers will know that we are not Mother and Daughter, but this stuff really gets Helen’s nectar flowing.
‘Anyway, you can talk. Look at your huge fucking cunt, or should that be your fucking huge cunt?’
‘Either will do dear, and what about my huge fucking arse?’ We continued talking complete filth to one another for quite a while, and whilst unusually, we did not have any penetrative sex, Helen got me off with a constant and fierce tugging of my lips and clit, and I did the same to her.
I adore playing with my flaps, and having different fingers and therefore a distinctly different manipulation of them usually gives me a consummately pleasurable cum, and that night was no exception.
It was almost a week before I got back to the gym, at least with Freya anyway. I had managed the Monday evening which Freya couldn’t make, and then I had had to call off on the Tuesday just because of coursework submission, so it was the Thursday before we got together again.
I pushed fairly hard in my workout, and I was certain that Freya was looking at me throughout. She certainly never seemed to be far away from where I was exercising.
We showered which was fun for me because I was even more casual than usual. I would like to think that I gave Freya quite a tantalising display, and she also seemed to be in less of a hurry to dress after we had dried off.
Our conversation this time had a bit more depth to it. She opened up a bit more about the threesome, and some of the things she did with the other girl, who she described as being very bisexual, and probably more into girls than men.
She asked me if there was anything that I particularly liked (I had admitted by now that my leanings were very much towards the same sex), or if I had any particular fetishes. I quietly alluded to the fact that I liked stretching, and she wanted to know more. I didn’t give too much away, but I pointed out to her that she had seen me in the showers and in the changing room, and asked if she had not noticed that I was ‘bigger than average down there.’
This seemed to put her on the back foot for a moment or two, but she then acquiesced and admitted that she had of course seen that I was ‘quite well endowed.’
She didn’t pursue it, but almost in a whisper stated that she had a couple of fetishes of her own, but then clammed up and she did not allow herself to be drawn further on the subject which I found mildly frustrating.
However, when we met the following week, things took a different turn. We worked out, and as we were drifting back towards the changing room, she said that she wanted to get home, invited me to join her, and asked if it would OK if we showered at her place as she had a couple of things she needed to sort out.
I was a bit sweaty to say the least of things, but because I was curious as to where she lived and sensed that there might perhaps be another agenda here (which I was more than interested in), I agreed to join her and shower at her place.
As it tuned out, she lived within easy walking distance of the campus in what is best described as an oversized bedsit, or at least, a cross between a bedsit and a one bedroom flat, in a relatively newly constructed block that given its proximity to the campus was presumably designed to be low cost accommodation for the Uni staff.
Her place was clean, uncluttered and with little personalised touches here and there, and she invited me to sit down and offered me a drink.
I actually wanted a shower, but I wasn’t about to fall out over it, especially as I still had a nagging feeling that I had been invited back for other reasons, and there bahis şirketleri was no getting away from the fact that the ‘couple of things she needed to sort out’ were apparently no longer a priority.
The way the place was laid out, there was a sort of a lounge cum kitchen diner, with a bedroom just off it. The kitchen diner / lounge comprised of a small cooking and preparation area, a small table and two chairs (which looked as if it could be extended to accommodate four people) and a two-seat sofa which is where I found myself.
I had just taken a slug of my coke when Freya seemed to gather herself up, and asked if she could tell me something.
I think I said something like ‘sure, go ahead,’ and she suddenly seemed unsure of herself.
She clearly needed a bit of encouragement, so I took her hand and brushed the fingers of my free hand across the back of hers. ‘Don’t feel you have to hold back now that you’ve come this far and got me here,’ I said. ‘What’s on your mind? I’m pretty unshockable you know, so it’s not like I’m going to run out on you.
She took a moment, building herself up for her admission. ‘You know I told you about that threesome,’ she half asked and half stated. ‘Well I really loved licking that girl out. I mean, it was the biggest ever cum I’ve ever had. I could have carried on licking her out all night.
I wasn’t lost for words, but I didn’t know how to respond.
She pulled her hand out from mine and took hold of my hand. Looking at me, but not full into my face, she said ‘I want to lick you out. Right now, right here, before you have a shower.’
I liked the sound of that, and the sexual tension in her little flat had definitely gone up a notch or two.
‘Right now, right here?’ I asked.
Freya nodded, apparently having found a new level of confidence.
‘Right here, right now,’ she responded.
I got up, and removed my tee shirt and sports bra. I let her have a good look at my perky little tits, and then pulled my leggings down. I screwed that bit up actually which I was worried might break the spell slightly, because embarrassingly, I forgot to take my trainers off first. On the upside, removing my trainers did put my tits at her eye level and she certainly didn’t waste the opportunity to give them a good ogling.
That just left my Sloggi’s which were doing a reasonably good job of holding my swollen genitalia in, but showing signs of dampness at the crotch.
I decided to egg her on.
‘You can have me right here, right now, but you have to take these off for me first.’
She raised herself up off the sofa, and then knelt in front of me, her eyes staring longingly at me.
‘Go on, do it, you know you want to.’
Eyes wide, and breathing heavily, almost panting, she tucked the first two fingers of each hand into either side of the waistband of my Sloggi’s and after a small break in proceedings, almost as if she was either building up to, or just savouring the moment, started pulling my panties down.
I was very sweaty still, but as the crotch came away from my sticky cunt, she inhaled heavily.
I stepped out of my panties and moved my feet further apart. She had not even attempted to stand up, and her gaze was fixated on my highly aroused cunt. I could feel that my lips were not touching, so was aware that I would be gaping already.
I thought that she was going to start licking me whilst I was in that standing position, but she eventually stood up, turned me around and gently pushed me back onto the sofa.
I put my hands behind my knees and lifted them backwards and apart so that she had unfettered access to my outsize hole and fanny flaps.
She started by licking me from my perineum to just below my clit, tongue fully out and catching both sides of the walls of my cunt. Up and down, avoiding my clit each time, but delving slightly deeper with her tongue.
After about five minutes she started using her hands to pull my meaty lips apart which allowed her to get her tongue deeper into me.
She was fucking good, I have to give her that. This was something akin to cunt worship. Her tongue went lower and deeper, but not higher, still avoiding my clit.
She kept this up for at least ten minutes, and then abruptly pulled away.
My immediate thought was that she had gone off the idea, but nothing could have been further from the truth.
Simply saying ‘it’s not enough, I need you in a different position, she hauled me up and virtually dragged me into the small bedroom.
She lay down on her bed and made it clear that she wanted me to kneel over her.
I shook my head. ‘You’re overdressed,’ I said. If you want some more, you have to be naked like me.
She must have been desperate, because without any attempt at subtlety, she stripped in literally seconds, her top and bra coming off in a single action, and the same again with her leggings and panties, and she was back on the bed.
This time I did as she had asked, and got myself so that I was comfortably positioned, with my eager slack cunt located directly over her face and mouth.
She got to work. I’m not normally an oral girl — it’s not really one of my triggers, but fuck, my new friend was good.
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