Girl love I

Readers want to know about my experiences in tongue-worshipping. Here's a quick rundown:

Pam was my first. She was my suite-mate for a year in college. In a world of Courtneys, Amandas, Ambers, Tiffanys and Jennifers, we were Xers with baby boomer names. We always got along well and talked about guys incessantly. I was just getting started. Pam had been hooking up since she was 15, so I knew she was way ahead of me. Looks: She had the most lovely straight blond hair, angel face and tight body to die for.

One night, we had both been dumped by guys we were seeing and sitting on the sofa commiserating over a bottle of wine. She leaned over and kissed me. I can't say I had ever been sexually attracted to a woman before, but when her warm, soft mouth connected with mine it all changed. I didn't pull back. Pretty soon, we were in a mad makeout session and she was fingering my (very wet) pussy.

I was a virgin this way but always up for a challenge, so I undressed her and got on my knees. Her pussy was an "inny" with a very light dusting of pubic hair. She was extremely wet, too, and I loved her scent. I no doubt clumsily parted her outer lips to find a sweet pink blossom waiting for my tongue. It took her a long time to heat up to a full orgasm — she warned me. But, no problem. I was turned on and fascinated and licked away. She stroked my hair and called out my name until she was grinding her pelvis into my face. Then she let out this long, low moan and came. She returned the favor in the bedroom. "You have a beautiful pussy," she said, the first time I had ever heard that. She was aroused by my natural red hair, too. Pam had made love to other girls and her expertise was immediately evident. My previous lovers had given perfunctory licks, if that, before mounting me and pumping away for their own pleasure.

Pam took her time, kissing the insides of my legs, working her tongue all around my labia and inside me, then licking my clitoris with ever-increasing pressure. My feet were burning and I lost track of everything not connected to her tongue and my pussy. She held my hands tight as I let out scream after scream. It was my first mature orgasm. I thought later, "Wow! So that's an orgasm." Before that, I realized, I had baby orgasms from fingering myself or being fucked by some muscular, in-a-hurry young man. But nothing like this.

We held each other all night, in-between more of this wonderful new thing in my life. She sat on my face and we sixty-nined, both firsts for me. The next morning, I didn't feel any guilt, just extra horniness. For the rest of the year, we continued dating guys but also periodically ending up in bed together. I still get aroused thinking of her flawless skin and lovely hair. She's married with children now, but we still stay in touch.

After that, while I preferred men, I knew I could enjoy girl-love, too. And how.