Making Out (F-22, Nebraska)

I have dreamt of making out with another woman since I practiced kissing friends in high school.  I vividly recall the sleepover activities turning into kissing practice on several occasions.  In nervous anticipation, we would pair up to help each other prepare for the day of our first real kiss.   And while this was technically kissing another woman, my fantasy has a much-more grown up tone.

Since those sessions nearly 8 years ago, I yearn for the softness of a woman’s lips, the feeling of her tongue against mine, and her delicate touch.  In the most unassuming locations, I observe women kissing one another.  Besides the obvious spots like a bar, I’ve watched the public display of affection between women almost anywhere you could imagine.  Each time I sigh, imagining myself in that very situation.  But, I don’t want a sexual relationship, just a hot and steamy make-out session.  And the thought of it turns me on immensely.

One of my favorite scenarios is imagining a close friend moving on after graduation.  We’ve develop deep relationships through the school year, my friends and I are inseperable.  We always studying together, party on the weekend, and we’ve even been there through countless breakups, supporting eachother with ice cream and movies.  I’m a grad student, so I’ve seen my fair share of close friends move away upon graduating.

It starts with a tight embrace, a bear hug squeeze and my eyes well up with sadness.  A kiss on the cheek, she notices the salty taste of a tear.  Our breathing deepens, becoming in sync as I feel her chest against mine.  My nipples harden and pussy tightens.  I turn to softly kiss her lips and am glad to be met with the same intentions.  Only, her idea of a soft kiss quickly escalates.

My tears have quickly dried and my emotions are raw.  I begin caressing her back, as her hand finds the back of my head.  Tilting my head to the side, she kisses deeper.  She lunges her tongue, skillfully at my lips and without reservation.  I open my mouth and feel her tongue probing as it locates mine, such a tender sensation that courses a warmth through my body.  Timidly, I let my tongue lick and explore, enjoying the texture of hers.

We collapse onto the couch just as my head fells like spinning.  Much to my surprise, I find myself taking the lead, as I climb upward.  Her head pressed into the cushions, my right hand holds her cheek.  She reciprocates, putting both hands on my hips, gripping my ass and pulling me into her.  I grind against her thigh, my clit needing to be engaged. 

She slaps my ass, hard enough through my jeans that I pause mid-kiss and squeal lightly.  My brief pause is enough time for her to tug at my knees and flip me onto my back.  She presses my knees apart and lays on top of me.  Her kisses move from my lips to my neck, nibbling and sucking in a way I’ve never felt.  The sensation sends goosebumps down my arms and a pulsing down there that’s never been so intense.

Her right leg slides between my thighs.  Without a thought, I spread my legs apart, her knee grinding against my throbbing crotch.  As she shifts position, her hand finds its way between my thighs and pressing hard against my pussy.  In no time, fast and deep rubbing of the denim brings me to orgasm.  I feel a hot wet sensation as my pussy soaks my panties.  Her hand slows while applying more pressure as she continues rubbing.  I begin panting, the throbbing after each stroke of her skillful hand.

Her lips press against mine, muffling my moans of delight, inhaling my energy.  She nibbles on my bottom lip.  The steady rhythm of her whole hand enveloping my crotch is making my hips gyrate in sync.  Until suddenly, a gigantic wave of pleasure subsides.  Our kissing calms to an embrace, the strong aftershocks of orgasm jolting my body as we lie together on the couch.

I’ve imagined this scenario playing out with several friends who’ve moved away, as well some new girls I meet.  We always have this deep connection that flames into passion and ends with a powerful orgasm by her rubbing me, all without removing a single article of clothing or reaching underneath.  Half the time, I even cum through my jeans for an added touch of realism, the light blue fabric showing the large wet spot.

Each time, I wonder what might happen when it’s my turn to graduate and move away.