first time with a woman.

     Tonight, I'm going out with a group of my lesbian and bi friends.

     Though I've never been with a woman, I've been hanging out with them in hopes of having my first female sexual interaction. Not that I'm using my friends; in fact, they are very supportive of my bi-curiosity, and suggested that I come out with the group of them.  We've been to a couple lesbian clubs in the last month or so, and I've been enjoying my time in the gay scene, dancing and flirting with other women, but so far I've gone home alone.  To tell you the truth, I'm not sure that I was ready.  But tonight, I feel that I finally am.

     My friends told me to meet them at the club around ten o'clock, and I get there, surprised to find that there's already a long line-up outside.  I'm a little discouraged, thinking that maybe it's a cosmic sign.  Until, I realize that this line is as good as meeting someone inside, maybe even better.  No loud music, and the streetlights offer a slightly better view of the woman you're talking to.  I ask the brunette in front of me for a lighter.  She turns, flashing me her almond shaped eyes.
   "I don't smoke, sorry," she apologizes, then adds teasingly, "You should quit.  It isn't good for you."  I smile.
    "Thank you for the concern.  I'll consider that."  When I don't continue my search, she turns around again, brow furrowed.
    "So, you're not going to have one?"  I laugh.
    "Oh, I was just looking for something to keep my mind off the cold.  And now I'm thinking of you, so I don't need it."  She laughs.
    "So, that's all it takes to quit smoking, then?"
    "Yep," I say matter-of-factly.  "Beautiful women have inspired people to do a lot more."  Just then, the bouncer moves the rope, letting a bunch of us in.
    "See you in there?"  
    "Hope so," I smile.

     I see my group, and get myself a drink.  I tell them about the pretty Asian girl outside, and one of them helps me find her.  She is on the dance floor already, her shiny hair out of her toque, and flowing around her like a fan.  Her hands and arms are like flowing water, appearing seamless, as if she has no joints, or bones.  It easy to see why she comes here.  The girl loves to dance, even without so much as a drink in her.  She doesn't appear to have come in with anyone, and dances with her attention inwardly.  Eyes mostly closed, head back, feeling the coloured lights on her face. I sip my beverage, and watch her.  I wonder if she would be up for it.  And when it comes down to it, I wonder if I would be, as well.

     When I've had a couple, my friends encourage me to go join her.  She still hasn't taken a break, not even for a glass of water.  I decide it might be a nice gesture to bring her one.  "Hey! I didn't catch your name outside!" I yell to her over the music.  Her eyes open.
     "Sorry?!"
     "I brought you some water!"  I loudly say into her ear.  She sees the glass, and laughs.
     "I guess I've been up here for a while!  I kind of lose track!"  She takes it, and drinks while walking away from the loud speakers.
    "I'm Sharon," I volunteer.
    "Anna.  You were watching me, I guess?"
    "Uh, yeah," I answer, a little embarrassed to be caught. "It's hard not to.  You're a great dancer.  You obviously enjoy it," I add.
    "I do!" She says enthusiastically.  "It's better than booze, drugs ... anything."  I smile, enjoying watching her talk about it.
    "Cigarettes?"  She laughs.
    "Definitely. Without a doubt."
    "I challenge you to name one thing you like better than dancing," I counter.  She thinks for a moment, then a smile spreads  across her face.  "What?"  I ask.
    "There are things," she says teasingly.  With that, she hands me the empty glass, and walks back to the dance floor.  I glance over at my group of friends, and one of them emphatically gestures to follow.  Being a terrible dancer, and getting a major case of cold feet, I sit back down and order another drink.

     A couple hours later, I mentally beat myself up over my case of stage fright, and exit the club.  Maybe I'm not ready after all.  I light up a cigarette, the lighter only being an excuse to talk to Anna in the first place.  Just then, she appears.  "I guess I'm not that beautiful after all?"  I smile, about to protest, taking a last drag, and throwing it on the ground.  "Or maybe you've just stopped thinking about me," she teases.  I quietly laugh.
    "No.  I find you very beautiful."
    "I wanted you to dance with me," she says, looking into my eyes.  She takes a step closer.  Her face is a perfect oval, like three quarters of the moon.  Her hair is dark as the night sky, and her eyes reflect the street lamps like two shining stars.  She leans in, taking my face in her hands, and places her mouth against mine.  Her lips are small and soft, parting mine slightly to give me her tongue.  Our lips melt warmly into each other, and I feel myself stir.  I've never been more ready in my life.  "I'm sorry," I say out of awkwardness, "If I knew, I would have at least popped a stick of gum!"  Anna laughs.
    "I don't mind. You can use my toothbrush at my house though, if you want."  My heart jumps at the realization that she intends to take me home.

     When we get to her small apartment, she shows me the washroom and proceeds to her bedroom.  I take a moment to groom myself in the mirror, noticing that I can't stop smiling.  Seeming a very intimate thing, I shout to her, "Are you sure you don't mind me using your toothbrush?"  She laughs in response.
    "What's mine, is yours!"  When I enter the bedroom, she is already in her bra and underwear.  She wasn't kidding.  A pale green lace thong, with a transparent matching bra.  Her dark hair falls over her creamy skin, and I feel the need to touch it.  I sit with her on the edge of the bed, and we kiss again.  My hands drift to her arms and shoulders, around her back, to her neck, and face.  I remove my shirt, revealing my black sports bra, and she pulls me down beside her.  We wrap our arms and legs around each other, pressing our breasts together, and riding each other's thigh.  I am quick to lose my pants as well, revealing my boy-cut underwear.  I love to feel her skin against me, but I'm still nervous to touch her in an explicitly sexual place.  I start with her butt, grabbing it to pull her closer into me.  Having her right against me now, I feel the warmth of her pussy against my thigh.  This excites me so much, that while still in our embrace, I move lower to kiss her breasts over her bra.  I can feel her erect nipples through it, and I even venture to tougue them slightly over the material.  She removes her underwear, and pulls her bra down, revealing her delicate breats, and brown nipples.  I marvel at them for a moment, at how they differ from my own, at their beauty because of this fact.  They are smaller and firmer than my own, with similarly sized nipples, though darker.
    I unclasp her bra, so that I can appreciate them without hindrance.  My mouth goes back to them, gently sucking, and batting the nipples gently back and forth with my tongue.  When I do this, she presses her pussy against my thigh, and now I can feel her wetness.  Amazed and excited by this, I move up to kiss her deeply, pressing myself back into her.  She kisses me back with just as much arousal, but now it's my turn.  She peels my sports bra up, and hungrily kisses my breasts, though only while passing by.  She plants wet kisses down the length of my torso, my stomach, towards my pussy.  I remove my bra, and she encourages me to take off my underwear, pulling at them so that I raise my hips in compliance.  She kisses up my legs on the way back, savouring my thighs, kissing the insides of them so that I naturally spread them apart.  She finds my clit instantly, and teases it with only the very tip of her tongue.  She reaches up to brush the tips of her fingers over my nipples while she does it.  I moan, surprised and impressed by her skill.  She takes her time, teasing me with each touch until I am begging her for it.  She continues to lick my clit, laying the weight of her fingers at the opening of my pussy for what seems like a hour, and I almost come just from the thought of her actually going inside.
     When she finally enters me, she does it so slowly and methodically that I feel myself actually pulling her in.  I've never been more open, wet, and wanting in my entire life.  She finally reaches my g-spot, and touches it just as carefully as everything else.  It's as if she's waiting for me to come to her.  Her other hand tickles the spot below my pussy, and even lower, towards my ass.  Again, the touch is so light, that I find myself straining towards it, reaching out to her, wanting it so badly that I almost come from the thought of wanting her to do it.  If only she would put the tip of her finger in!  If only she finger my g-spot a little faster!  Almost there!  Oh god!  Fuck!  And then, proving that she indeed knew the entire time, she does.  And I don't think I've ever come that hard.

     Luckily, and to my relief, she pulls out a vibrator for herself.  Not for lack of desire, I find a great deal of pressure lifted off of me, for I would doubt my ability to make her come as hard as she did for me.  I wonder if she knew if was my first time.  I lick her nipples as she rubs it on herself, and she asks me to tell her that she's a good girl for making me come.  That she deserves to have a nice orgasm.  That I'll let her use her vibrator, because she was such a good girl.  She comes quickly, after I start dirty talking.  Like many things tonight, I have never felt so satisfied.

     And I have absolutely no desire for a cigarette either.