Women's Day
I thought for quite a long time about what to call this story, or rather, this revelation. I immediately dismissed "How I Became a Lesbian," because, in my understanding, one doesn't become a lesbian any more than one becomes straight. You either are one (perhaps in a latent state) or you're not. Most of my girlfriends and just female acquaintances have at least once, if not kissed someone "like themselves," certainly thought about it. Let's say, I started noticing girls back in school, around seventh grade. It seemed normal to me, and I didn't even know the word "lesbian" yet. Later, by tenth grade, having acquired some information from printed sources, I was able
to somehow formulate my feelings, perhaps even assign myself to some sexual category. Not a lesbian... more like bi. I dated boys. And I practiced kissing on my girlfriends, just to know how to do it and demonstrate the skills to my boyfriend. I'm sure I'm not the only one like that. Therefore, I also can't call the revelation "My First Time," because by the time of THIS incident, I had already fallen in love with girls, there had been "practice" kisses, there had been exploration of my girlfriends' bodies (in the bathhouse, for example). So I simply called the story Women's Day.By THAT time, I was 21. I came to work at a clinic after medical school. A somewhat naive girl, with childlike eyes and plans to change the whole world for the better. My partner's name was Oksana. A very vibrant personality. Tall with a short haircut, expressive eyes, a full bust, and she herself was full-figured... all somehow airy... And completely crazy! Now I'll try to explain. At the moment of our acquaintance, Oksana was a blonde, but within a month she had been a brunette, a redhead, with highlights, and without, and her hairstyle changed too. But that's not all. She never sat still, as if she had a little motor inside her, which is why her work got done very quickly, and she managed to run around the entire clinic — advising someone, comforting someone, congratulating someone, etc. And she also radiated such infectious positivity.
I myself am a cheerful and positive person, called the life of the party, used to being a leader. Therefore, seeing in Oksana practically my own self, only 18 years older, it immediately seemed to me that two strong personalities wouldn't be able to coexist in the same territory. But it turned out to be quite the opposite.
According to those around us, I slightly tempered Oksana's impulsiveness and fussiness, and she fueled me with energy. In short, we harmonized, became best friends — we relaxed together, I was welcome in her home, acquainted with her husband and son, we shared secrets, worries, and so on. And the difference of more than 18 years didn't bother us at all, especially since I always felt wiser than my years (even though I looked younger).
The apotheosis that changed our perfect friendly relationship was the celebration of March 8th with colleagues. We celebrated in the school cafe. Naturally, Oksana and I prepared and conducted the entertainment show program. So we came a bit earlier — to check the music, go over the simple script once more, and so on. I was waiting for my partner in the school medical room (Oksana also worked there part-time), changing, fixing my already impeccable makeup. A couple of minutes later, Oksana flew in. Literally flew in (she couldn't do it any other way), spreading the scent of cold flowers — the fragrance of her perfume. She entered and stopped, looking at me.
"Nastya, you look amazing!" she exhaled.
And why wouldn't I? A short top, over it a short shirt emphasizing a narrow waist, no bra, tight pants, heels, making my figure seem even thinner. On top of that, long, falling, curly copper-red locks, light, delicate makeup, and a sparkle in my eyes. Honestly, I also admired Oksana — she was in a black dress, emphasizing her gorgeous bust and smoothing over the minor flaws of her figure. As for her hairstyle (today she was a fiery brunette) and makeup, there's nothing to say — they are always perfect and appropriate.
Oksana flew up to me and said:
"Well, that's it. Two stunning beauties have gone hunting. Men, beware!"
I laughed loudly, but caught myself thinking that I didn't want to pick up any men today, and I didn't want them to pick me up either. But the evening went according to a different script — noisy and fun, heartfelt. All our creative preparations were met with enthusiasm. Our female colleagues praised us all evening for the holiday, and our male colleagues simply showered us with compliments and almost fought for the chance to dance with one of us. In short, the party was a success.
Closer to eleven, everyone started to leave. Only Oksana and I remained, and a few other women to help us at least tidy up the hall a bit. But they quickly gave up and left too. Oksana and I continued slowly putting away decorations, arranging tables, picking up chairs. All this was accompanied by cheerful commentary on the evening and quiet music coming from the stereo. A familiar slow song started playing. I don't remember what song it was, but I remember it was very beautiful and very tender. I turned it up louder, walked over to Oksana, and, I don't know why, invited her to dance. And so, warmly embracing, we moved smoothly to the rhythm. Whether the music was so arousing, or the evening so interesting... I closed my eyes, breathed in Oksana's scent and... I imagined kissing her. Opening my eyes, I saw that we were indeed kissing! Suddenly Oksana shuddered, pushed me away, and stared at me, batting her eyelashes. I took a step towards her and grabbed her hand.
"Shh," I said, "everything's fine."
And again my lips found hers. And again a kiss. I let my hands into her hair and started running my fingers through it. Oksana began to breathe faster and started making purring sounds, her arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to her.
At some point, it seemed to me that my soul left my body, rose to the ceiling, and I was looking at myself as if from the outside, even from above. The picture was magnificent — two passionately kissing girls; my arms wrapped around her neck, hers — caressing my back. And we continued to dance.
Suddenly my soul whistled down and snapped back into my body. Coming to my senses, I found myself sitting on the floor. Two steps away from me stood a pale Oksana (it turned out she had pushed me), and a moment later she ran out of the hall. I just sat there, not understanding anything... And only then did I notice Oksana's husband standing in the doorway. "Damn," ran through my head. "DAMN!!!" Sergei, that was his name, came over to me and helped me up.
"Why did you fall? Or did you have a fight with Oksanka?"
Sergei smiled at his own joke, walked over to the stereo, put it in a box, and left the hall. "Did he really not notice?" I thought. "Or didn't understand... or..." I turned off the light, went out after Sergei, and we entered the medical room together, where Oksana was. She didn't look either of us in the eye, pretending to be very busy packing up. But I could see she was just very nervous. We dressed in silence, silently carried out boxes and some bags with things. Oksana turned off the light and started locking the room. How unexpectedly the sound of something falling and scattering all over the floor rang out.
"Oops," Oksana squealed, as if apologizing, "I spilled the buttons."
"Well, who's going to pick them up in such darkness?" asked Sergei.
It must be said that it was already quite dark in this corridor. We were the last to leave the school building and had turned everything off, leaving only the light by the entrance door.
"I'll shine a light, I have a flashlight," I responded without a hint of any implication.
"Anyway," said Sergei. "I'll take the stereo home. Catch up. Nastena, bye and happy holiday again."
And he left. Taking out the flashlight, I naively started picking up the buttons.
"Leave it," I heard behind me. "I spilled them on purpose."
Even in this semi-darkness, I made out a smile
on her face and eyes glowing with desire.
"Come to me, my girl."
I didn't need to be told twice. I went up to her, pressed her against the wall, and fell upon her lips. My palms began to wander over her body. Started squeezing her breasts. My knee slipped between her legs, and I started rubbing against her crotch. It wasn't very comfortable, especially for her (she was in a dress). Then my mischievous hands rushed under the dress, climbing higher and higher. Started kneading her butt. I kissed her on the lips, then switched to her neck and shoulders. Oksana only accepted the caresses, rolling her eyes and purring.
"Goddess," I whispered in her ear.
And the next moment, I started pulling down her tights. Lowering my hands, I sank to my knees. Before my face were Oksana's panties, on which I noticed a small wet spot. I smiled and kissed right there. Oksana shuddered and froze. The spot began to grow in size. Without thinking long, I pulled her panties down. With my nose, I traced the short hair on her pubis and kissed it. Oksana began to tremble with fine shivers. With my fingers, I parted her lips, licked once, twice, my tongue found her clitoris. I started licking and sucking it. Placing my right palm on her butt, I started to rock her towards my tongue. Oksana was now openly moaning. But I wanted more, I wanted to penetrate her cave. But, no matter how hard my tongue tried, I couldn't penetrate deeply in that position.
"Come here," Oksana whispered, lifting me by the shoulders.
I took her hand and put it under my top, placed it on my breast. Oksana immediately started kneading it, teasing the nipple with her fingers. With her other hand, she was squeezing my butt. My friend accompanied all this by tracing patterns with her tongue on my neck.
"You're so small, so fragile," she whispered to me, caressing.
Her hand began to unbutton my pants, then dove inside. Her fingers began persistently rubbing my pussy through my panties. And then, moving the panties aside, they got to work on my pearl. I rolled my eyes in pleasure. And in my head — fog. Her caresses became more insistent and faster. With a light cry, the first wave of orgasm washed over me. My legs buckled, became like cotton, and if Oksana hadn't caught me, I would have fallen to the floor.
"My sweet girl," my friend whispered, pressing me to her chest.
I buried my nose in her shoulder, breathing heavily and raggedly, there was a roaring in my head, and a sweet languor spread through my body, filling every cell.
"Sunshine, was it good for you?" she asked, kissing my forehead... eyes... cheeks... parched lips...
"Yeeessss," I drawled, not recognizing my own voice. "But not for you!"
And at the same moment, I thrust two fingers into Oksana's cave. From surprise, she even jumped a little, squealed.
"Squat down a bit, it will be more comfortable for US," I demanded and continued thrusting my fingers into her.
I acted very persistently, even somewhat roughly. With each of my thrusts into her womb, her body jumped a little. Her vagina tightly gripped my hand, her fingers dug into my shoulders, leaving bruises. I could already feel her orgasm approaching, when suddenly...
"Oksana!" we heard Sergei's voice.
"YEEEEEEESSSS!!!" she screamed, squeezing me and coming profusely into my palm. Oksana immediately went limp, but a moment later perked up, pulled up her tights somehow, straightened her dress. Quickly buttoned my pants, picked up and handed me my shirt, and even managed to peck me on the cheek before we saw Sergei.
"Are you two just sitting here in the dark?"
"No, we were going back to the room. I wanted some tea," said Oksana, trying to steady her voice. I smiled. Sergei, of course, didn't notice that.
"Ah... well, are you both ready to go home now?"
"Now EVERYONE is ready," Oksana answered, emphasizing the word everyone.
Leaving the school building, I looked at my watch. It was already past midnight, March 8th had arrived. "Women's Day," ran through my head, and I smiled at my own sarcasm.
Author's e-mail: biz-25@mail.ru