I am slightly disturbed that none of Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday Banners have two women on them, because I am forced to use the less-than-tantalizing cherry blossom pic. There can be romance between women dammit! I’ll write you a story just to prove it:
“I’ve never had an orgasm.”
Frankie was shocked; whether it was at the fact a coworker at her new job was bringing up this subject, or the fact that it was a late-thirty-something woman had yet to experience true pleasure she couldn’t say. Either way, she decided to ignore her unsettled brain.
“Did the guys here say something to you?” Frankie asked up front. She didn’t go around boasting her interest in women, but if someone asked her, she didn’t deny it. All it took was a group of guys standing around talking about hot ass for them to find out she was very opinionated on the subject; despite the fact that she had a boyfriend. It usually didn’t take long for everyone she worked with to find out she was bisexual. She figured that was the reason this woman she’d only been introduced to was spouting her most intimate secret to her.
Heather looked at her quizzically. “No? What would they have said?”
“Nevermind.” Frankie shook her head and changed the subject. “So really? You seriously have never had an orgasm? You mean with intercourse?”
Heather looked at her pointedly. “No, I mean, EVER.”
“Whaaaaaaaat?!?!?!!?!??!?!” Frankie’s brain was going nuts. She cleared her throat so she didn’t blurt out what she was thinking- something along the lines of “Well, that explains alot.” Instead, she said, “Wait. So you’re telling me that you’re thirty-eight and you’ve never had an orgasm. What about with a vibrator?”
“No, I have one, but it doesn’t do anything for me. My exboyfriends all said I’m too uptight and need to relax. The last one was really pissed when he couldn’t get me off.”
Frankie let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Holy shit, she thought. “Sooo, what are you gonna do about it? You need to be having an orgasm before your 40th.” she said it jokingly, but she meant it.
Heather threw up her hands, frustrated. “I don’t know! I feel like I don’t know what I’m missing. I mean, I guess I enjoy sex, but it’s not like there’s big finale or anything.” She looked at Frankie and then looked away quickly, as if she was ashamed. “If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone? Like ANYONE? I would be so completely embarrassed.”
Frankie shrugged. She didn’t like people enough to be caring what secrets who had, so she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to break this woman’s confidence. “Sure. I won’t tell anyone.”
The brunette took a deep breath before she began. “I’ve always had this fantasy of going down on another woman. I mean, I feel like if I could figure out how to give someone like me an orgasm, then maybe I’d be able to figure out how to give myself one.” She looked at Frankie sheepishly. “Please don’t be all weird, but all the other girls I’ve told that to just freaked out and didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
Frankie laughed inwardly, wondering if Heather had realized that she wouldn ‘t be able to pleasure herself the way she fantasized pleasuring another woman. The image of Heather bending like a contortionist in order to tongue her own clit made Frankie emit a noticeable giggle.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Heather asked, hurt.
Frankie waved a hand. “No, I’m not, I promise. I just…” She just what? She didn’t even know. She cleared her throat again, and gave Heather her flirtiest grin. “So, are you asking me if you can go down on me?” She always deflected awkward situations by flirting; it seemed the most natural thing to do.
Heather shook her head. “Well, no- I mean, I don’t even really know you. And you have a boyfriend. Do you think this means I’m bisexual?”
Ugh. Frankie hated the titles. Gay, lesbian, bisexual. Why did everybody have to put a label on things? She always wondered why people couldn’t just accept that some people are attracted to who they’re attracted to, regardless of gender.
“No, it doesn’t mean that at all. It just means you want to have an orgasm.” Frankie’s blunt manner sometimes got the best of her, and she couldn’t control how she worded things. “I like girls, and I don’t consider myself bisexual.”
Frankie found it intensely amusing that Heather now looked at her with different eyes. “You like women? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well, you’re probably the only one who didn’t.” Frankie stood up. “So anyway, you need to have an orgasm already.”
Which is how they’d ended up here. For weeks after their initial conversation, Heather had continuously broached the idea that Frankie bring her home. Because Frankie wasn’t appalled at the idea of two women together, Heather had asked Frankie to talk with her boyfriend and ok a sort of Orgasm Finding Ceremony. Frankie’s boyfriend had been as shocked as she about a nearly-forty year old woman not having an orgasm, and told Frankie to do what she had to. Heather was certainly neurotic, which was exactly why Frankie didn’t let her know what she was planning. So after work, she grabbed Heather’s hand.
“You’re coming with me tonight.” She didn’t want to Heather to feel awkward because she was a woman, so she took a no-nonsense manly approach.
In the car ride, she could tell Heather was nervous, because she wasn’t saying anything. Heather talked incessently, which was one of the reasons Frankie had given pause to this decision, but then the whole ridiculousness of Heather’s dilemma got the better of her. She pulled into the parking lot and put the car into park.
“Let’s go.” She spoke gruffly, but when Heather looked at her, she winked and Heather’s face split into a wondrous grin. Frankie knew she’d put Heather at ease, and breathed an inward sigh of relief.
Frankie had rented a hotel room, because if this turned out to be a bad experience, she didn’t want either of them reliving it every night they came home for the foreseeable future. She took ahold of Heather’s hand, and pulled her into the room. She reached around Heather and pulled the door shut, making sure her breath landed on the side of Heather’s neck as she did so. She berated herself for wearing her shorter heels today, because Heather was a good 5 inches taller than she, but she figured that wouldn’t matter soon enough.
She led Heather to the bed, and guided her to sit down. Heather remained mute, and Frankie could see the tendrils of her hair shaking nervously. She knelt down in front of Heather so they were face to face.
“Listen. Tonight is nothing to be nervous about. I’m here to be what you need, so you don’t have to worry about anything out there.” She nodded her head in the direction of the outside world. “And you don’t have to worry about anything in here. I want you to relax, and not think about what other lovers could or couldn’t give you. I’m not them.”
Heather nodded, and with that silent admission, Frankie set out to deliver pleasure.
She removed Heather’s shoes, a dingy unstylish pair, and ran her hand up Heather’s leg. Heather was wearing a black skirt that fell just above the knee, and Frankie placed a kiss on one knee, and then the other. She looked up to see Heather looking down at her. She winked again to lighten the mood, and continued her journey.
She straightened up and pulled Heather forward enough to slide her skirt off. Heather was forced to lean back, and she did so, resting her elbows on the bed and watching intently. Frankie figured this was as good a position as any, and pressed Heather’s knees apart to that her panties were squarely in front of Frankie’s face. Frankie ran her tongue along the inside of Heather’s thighs, first one, and then the other, before burying her nose in the satiny fabric. She heard Heather gasp, and she smiled to herself. It was a sweet musky smell; and Frankie inhaled deeply. She never tired of that scent.
She pulled down Heather’s panties, and admired the well-groomed landing strip that was underneath.
The End.
P.S. Just kidding, but I’ll finish it tomorrow.
Sparklebumpsthebookwhore 