EROTICA, LGBTQIA, FREEDOM
What Does the Age Sixteen, Southern California, Sex, and a Spartan Race Have in Common?
Part One:
Once upon a time, when I was sixteen and not twenty-nine, I met a guy named Mark, and his girlfriend, Callie— who was finer than fine.
Don’t get me wrong; Mark was cute too.
Mark and Callie dated for a while in high school, then they broke up, and I started dating Mark; he turned out to be a bit of a scumbag, so Callie and I got revenge in our own adventurous way.
After Mark and I broke up, Callie and I became really close — no, not that close. However, now that you mention it — I had an enormous crush on her. Callie was well aware of my affinity for her, but I could never get a straight answer about whether or not she felt the same way. Until one night, when I was spending the night at her house.
Innocent Sleepovers?
Since her mom’s place was a small one-bedroom apartment, Callie and I would sleep on the two “L”-shaped love seats in the front room when I stayed over. We’d hang out in our pajamas, watch scary movies and eat candy and popcorn on Saturday night like normal teenagers were doing those days do those days. Back then, I never knew how Callie felt about me, but man, would she flirt with me like there was no tomorrow. She was always touching me somewhere or playing with my hair. She loved being close to me, but I tried not to read too much into it since my feelings for her overwhelmed me — not the other way around.
One night we were hanging out together on the love seat; I was happy to stay sprawled out on my couch and give her space to do the same on hers. Still, a few minutes into Quarantine (huh, isn’t that ironic?!) starring Jennifer Carpenter, Callie grabbed her pillow and blanket and cuddled up right next to me.
I didn’t put up a fight about being extra closer to her…
Right then and there is when I felt the undeniable sexual energy surging through our sixteen-year-old virgin bodies.
As I said before, Callie loved to cuddle, so naturally, we ended up spooning (me as the big spoon) halfway through the movie. She kept talking to me and turning her head to make eye contact throughout the movie.
Oh, my goodness — where are my fucking manners!?
I’m halfway through the story and haven’t described in detail how hot Callie was (and still is)! She had the juiciest tits I had ever seen on a sixteen-year-old — partly because she was a few inches shorter than me (I’m 5’2" with shoes on), and the other part being she was just voluptuous as fuck. I remember her being so self-conscious of her busty breasts. She was an avid soccer player, and let’s just say: they were hard to tame out on the field.
Yep, I started my description of her with her rack, and I’m not even sorry.
Now I’ll tell you about the rest of her: she had thick, long golden-brown hair, big caramel-colored eyes, and plump, heart-shaped cherry-blossom pink lips that I fantasized about biting and sucking on every time we hung out. And thanks to the Women’s soccer team she was on, her stomach was flat from all that cardio, and her legs were muscular and petite in equal measure — yum. Want to know one of the sexiest parts about Callie? She had a tattoo on her upper leg that would peak out when running on the field in her tiny soccer shorts. The tattoo itself was subpar; I honestly can’t even remember what the design was, but at sixteen — it was the hottest fucking thing in the world to see big tat on her upper thigh so close to her taut little pussy.
Okay, back to that night on the couch when we were sixteen.
Honestly, I didn’t see it coming. We canoodled on the couch until the credits rolled, and I watched the glare of the tv dance on Callie’s right cheek. Just then, she turned over towards me; didn’t say a damn thing; we locked eyes; she grabbed my face and gently pressed her full, heart-shaped lips up against mine.
Oh — that kiss with her lasted for hours. It was my first “lesbian” experience, and I never wanted it to end. We sucked each other’s lips and tits; she fingered me and rubbed her thumb on my swollen clit like a damn Dominatrix — steady, confident, sexy, and precise. Finally, I came so hard that she had to put her mouth over mine to keep me from screaming her name and waking her mom in the next room. I’ve kissed plenty of people in twenty-nine years, and I have yet to meet anyone who can kiss me the way Callie did that night. My pussy is dripping just thinking about it again nine years later.
That time in my life was as fleeting as my orgasms were that one night on the couch when I was sixteen. Callie and I went back to school the following Monday like nothing ever happened — and our friendship petered out shortly afterward.
Nine years later…
We were twenty-five at the time and had since lost touch after our Senior year in high school (and after she got a new boyfriend who didn’t like us hanging out together) when all of a sudden, I saw “Sweet_Callie_Gurl92” pop up in my Instagram DM’s. By her profile picture (and her delicious, unmistakable cleavage), I could tell that she was my golden-brown-haired, caramel-colored-eyed, full, heart-shaped cherry-blossom pink-lipped Callie from high school.
“Sweet G — it’s me, Callie!”
We chatted back and forth for hours and caught up on life stories for the last nine years. She joined the U.S. Marine Corps (I know hot, right?) and had gotten married to one of her fellow officers. Unfortunately (for him), they were separated at the time, and she was living alone with her two German Shepherd dogs in Southern California. Anyway, come to find out, Callie and I were both Obstacle Course Race (OCR) fanatics, and there was an upcoming Spartan Race in June that we unknowingly both had signed up for.
“I’ve missed you so much, Gia. Will you come stay at my beach house after our race? I’ll buy your plane ticket and have a big hug, cold beer, and a comfy couch waiting for you when you get here, I promise!”
I really wasn’t sure what to make of this. Callie and I hadn’t talked in years, and from what I remember, our friendship ended rather abruptly; I wondered why she was overly hospitable. Did she want something? Was she lonely? Was she horny? Did she want to finish what she started nine years earlier? Frankly, finding an affordable place to stay for the weekend under $1,000 in So. Cal. was rare, so I really had nothing to lose — and a lot of anticipation to gain. Sure as shit, a few months later (after I was in the best shape of my life for our race and got a base tan going), I was on a plane.
Destination: Huntington Beach, CA, and in between Callie’s legs if I was lucky.
Landing strip
Callie greeted me with a dozen yellow roses and the biggest hug
I could have hoped for that smashed our perky twenty-five-year-old tits together in a way that my horny teenage self could only dream of. She kissed me on the cheek, told me how thrilled she was to see me again, and that she had an incredible weekend planned for us.
She smelled like lavender and vanilla. I wanted to eat her up right then and there in the middle of the airport.
We stopped to pick up a few sushi rolls to-go and a 6-pack of Sapporo, and on our way home, she asked, “You up for relaxing and watching a movie to kick off our weekend?”
“Hell yes I am!” I blurted out enthusiastically.
I figured we’d put on some shoddy movie to play in the background while we ate, drank, and girl chatted — but Callie had other plans. And I finally got an answer to those questions I was asking myself a few months earlier; the response to every one of those four questions was an orgasmic ‘Yes!’ She scrolled through her movies, and when she couldn’t find what she was looking for in her queue, she pushed the search button and started typing the title,
“B…O…U...N...D.”
Oh, come on…
Bound!? Really!? The 1996 crime thriller film starring Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon with one of the hottest, most explicit lesbian sex scenes of its time!? “This is going to be an incredible weekend,” I thought while I licked my lips lustfully. We finished our sushi, and we were two beers deep when Callie grabbed the last two beers in one hand, a blanket in the other, and cuddled up right next to me.
It was sweet — and nothing like what happened next.
About halfway through her beer, Callie started talking and making eye contact like the same fateful night nine years ago. I knew she was going to kiss me, so this time I beat her to it. I got up close to her face, rubbed my cheek on hers and slowly moved my lips over to her mouth, and started sucking on her bottom lip. I wanted to absolutely devour her, but I took my time with every inch of her body that night because — we had all weekend this time.
We had only been kissing for a few minutes when she ravenously pulled my shirt off to suck on my tits. My nipple piercings had just healed, and oh-my-god-her-warm-wet-mouth-on-my-extra-sensitive-excited-areolas-felt-like-pure-paradise. She kissed her way down to my belly button, licked her way to one hip and then the other. Her tongue then made a bee-line for my wet throbbing pussy my hips as she pulled my jeans down around my ankles. But wait, that's not the steamiest part. You won’t believe what she did next: she pulled off the rest of my jeans, threw them behind her, grabbed her empty beer bottle from the coffee table, and circled my slick pussy lips with its smooth glass tip.
Oh. My. God. This woman is so fucking hot! I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.
Callie saw that I was enjoying the impromptu sex toy so much that so she energetically put her face in my pussy, licked my clit, and slowly slid the bottle inside me.
Oh. My. God! I’m coming! I’mmcoming!!
To be continued… *wink*
Until then, thank you for reading, and here is my first steamy story ever!
