Chapter 2

Orgasm? What’s that? I was very lacking in my knowledge about sex, probably pretty obvious. What was this about Jill? She was one of the roommates. Do girls have sex with each other too? How? My curiosity was surely peaked now.

I was still fingering myself when they sat up.

“Oh Karen. Sorry. Been there long?”

“A while. Hope you don’t mind me watching. Kind of enjoyed watching both of you do that.” ‘do that’ I thought, guess that’s not the right way to say it. Guess ‘fucking’ is more correct.

“Catch you later Janet.” Rob closed the door behind him.

“Didn’t know you like stuff like that?”

“Guess I didn’t know either.”

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself now.” Janet said.

I shrugged my shoulders not really understanding.

“Fingering your pussy. Do you do that often?”

“Not really. Felt nice while I was watching.”

“Fuck yeah! I love to frig myself. Surprised you hadn’t heard me before I go to sleep.”

“You know … masturbate, finger fuck, banging the beaver, diving for pearls, petting your kitty. What you’re doing now.”

“You do it every night?” She had the top bunk above me. Of course I didn’t know what those moans had been about. I just thought she was dreaming.

“At least once! Sometimes even in class when I get bored. Sometimes I let a guy watch me, but not touch me.”

“Can I ask you something? Might be kind of personal.”

“What does it feel like? You know, to have someone kiss you down there?”

“To eat me? Love that the most, but girls do it to girls the best. What me to show you?”

“I guess … if you don’t mind.” Every time she opened her mouth, I’d hear something new, something I’d never even thought of doing. We’d never talked much and now I was getting the education of a lifetime.

“Oh Karen. You crack me up sometimes.” She actually slapped her bottom. I thought that just happened in old western movies. “I’d love to eat your pussy.”

Janet sat between my legs and pulled my underwear, my ‘panties’, must remember to use these new wicked words, and laid her head on my thigh, as she began to touch me. I could feel her finger lightly touch me in different places, it felt nice. Real nice.

“Just relax and let me do everything.” she whispered. “Let me touch your pussy … do you feel my fingers slide between the sweet folds of skin, inside you, … over your clit, …” She took her time, talking to me about what she was doing, using all ‘those’ words, pleasing me like I’d never been pleased. Hell, she was going where not even I’d gone before. I didn’t care what Mom had told me, this was better than any other feeling I’d ever had before. Even though Janet only touched me around my pussy, there were nice feelings happening all over my body. I looked down and my nipples were sticking up, not just little soft beads of flesh on my breasts like they usually were. I reached down and touched them, it felt ‘wonderful’.

Janet pressed a finger deeper into me. “Virgin?”

“Afraid so.” I said sadly.

“We can fix that if you want?”

“Really? Not with a guy though.”

She laughed, got up, and took something from the night stand by the bed. “Fuck no. Guys are not good at this!” She held up something that looked like a penis, sorry a ‘cock’. “No sperm in this guy.”

“Good. Rip that hymen apart now. Make me a woman!”

Janet ran her tongue over the end of it getting it all slobbery, then pressed it against the opening in my pussy, spreading me wide open.

“Just relax and spread your legs real wide.”

I did and tried to enjoy the sensations as it began to slide inside me. “Feels nice.”

“It may hurt a bit when it pops your cherry, at least it did for me, but that only happens once.”

The end of the rubber cock was inside me and she moved it in and out a little for a while. “Really feels nice now.”

“It’s getting it all coated with your pussy juices.”

“I like it when you say things like that. You know, ‘pussy’.

She leaned forward and kissed the folds of skin on my pussy, around the cock, and on my clit. There were interesting feelings flowing through my body now, much more intense than before. Without warning, she shoved the cock all the way inside me. A burning sensation filled my pussy. I gasped, almost screamed, but resisted. I didn’t want to be heard out in the hallway. She pulled the cock out and laid it on the bed, then kissed my pussy gently.

“You’re doing fine. It won’t hurt again.” She resumed kissing, touching, caressing my no longer virgin pussy, making all the discomfort from losing my cherry go away. She pressed against a spot in my pussy and it felt like I might pee, ‘piss’, but the intense feelings from before changed into something even more wonderful. My body shook, my muscles tightened, I trembled, I shook some more.

“Relax and enjoy that. You’re having an orgasm. As you get used to them, they will become even more pleasurable, even intense at times.”

“Oh THAT was nice! Maybe someday, you’ll let me kiss your pussy?” What a radical turn that was, moments ago I’d never known someone would be willing to kiss me between my legs, now she had and I was offering to do it to her. What a slut I was becoming.

“Anytime baby. Anytime. Dive in now if you want.”

Over time, not very much time mind you, I became quite addicted to eating Janet’s pussy, doing so every time we were alone. And she would return the favor, helping me explore my orgasm, she said. Whoo! Now THAT’S Gods gift to woman. I still enjoyed watching Rob, her boyfriend, fuck her and they often let me watch. She offered to let him ‘do me’, but I passed on the chance. I wasn’t on the pill and didn’t want to chance getting pregnant. It was nice to know that having a tongue in my mouth wouldn’t cause pregnancy as Mom had told me. A few times I rubbed Rob’s cock with my hand and made him cum. That was nice. He, well his cock, felt good in my hand, and for some reason I enjoyed watching him shoot his load all over the place. I never quite understood why she liked to have her pussy filled with his cum, looked like such a messy thing. Maybe I would have to try it to understand it.

Next semester, Janet didn’t return. I never heard from her again, but I did eventually hear that she and Rob had run off to California, Los Angeles I think. Jill and Suzy, my other roommates, were driving me crazy. I never was able to develop any kind of friendship with either of them. They headed off to the French Quarter most every night and came back very drunk. Once they even called and begged me to come help them get back to the dorm. Too young to go in bars, they would kiss guys and give them hand jobs, to get them to go in for them, buy drinks, and bring them back out. That was one of the legendary things about the French Quarter, you could walk around with your drinks. At least I had a little quiet time to study while they were gone, otherwise I headed for the library. I guess I’d only been to the French Quarter a few times. I loved all the activity down there, but rarely went. What a wet blanket I was.

A few months into the semester, I began looking for other living arrangements, checking the campus paper, the bulletin boards on campus, even online listings. Nothing seemed right for me. That is until late one Friday morning when I found a new ad for:

‘SWF to share house with SWF, college student preferred, quiet, no boyfriends, separate bedrooms/beds if desired, lifestyle tolerant, NO pets, NO smoking, NO drugs’

The wording generated a zillion questions which flooded my head. There was a phone number, so I called. She seemed nice on the phone, never can tell until you meet someone though. She was home and asked if I could come over ‘now’. “Sure.” I said and wrote the address down. A place just off St. Charles on the river side of the street, not very far from campus.

From the car, it looked nice. A well cared for duplex, nicely painted with the trim that was a contrasting color from the walls, looked like 2 shotgun units. The story goes that they got that name because you could stand in the front door, fire a shotgun, and hit someone anywhere in the house. True or not, it is a good story.

I stood on the porch, checked my clothes, yes my zipper is closed, shirt tucked in, hair neat, then knocked on the door.

A woman on crutches, missing her left leg, wearing a light weight mid-calf dress, pushed the screened door open. “You must be Karen. I’m Brenda. Please come in.”

Her voice was enchanting, not like on the phone, and I was in her spell as soon as I heard it. She could have been an axe murderer with a bloody axe in hand, a pirate with a peg leg and eye patch, or wanted $1000 for a bedroom, I would have said ‘yes’ without further thought. I followed her into the front parlor and sat on the sofa next to her as she placed her crutches gently on the floor next to the side of the sofa.

“A surgery last year.” She patted the flat space in her skirt. “Hope you don’t mind. I don’t. You’re a student?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m a junior at Tulane. First year there. Trying to escape my roommates. Quite rowdy. Not my type.”

“I’m a pretty quiet person myself, I understand what you mean. I’m 26. And you?”

I paused for a fraction of a second, not a noticeable pause even, and looked at her. She not only had a sensual voice, but a very pleasing appearance, an almost magnetic draw pulled me emotionally towards her. Not the stunning model look like some women around town, rather a sophisticated charm, a southern elegance. Not the hard beauty saloon kind of southern look mind you, much softer, something you could fall into and never pull away from. No jewelry, not even a ring or ear rings, no piercings, no tattoos; hair with a gentle curl that hung in a broad sweep across the breadth of her shoulders; blue eyes like a cloudless sky; soft pale face without any makeup, none needed; lips and no lipstick, smooth kissable lips; long fingers without long nails, trimmed, never bitten. That one leg was shapely, pleasing, bare, sensually long, a small foot covered only in a simple loafer. Never known anyone missing a leg, but I didn’t mind. It was just part of her. I didn’t care at all. Just WANTED to be with her.

“Recently turned 21. Studying history. Not sure what I want to do, maybe work in a museum. Just don’t know. So far my grades are good.”

“I majored in English, taught for a year, wrote a book. Parents died in a plane crash. Didn’t have to work after that, so I don’t. Do some photography, travel some. Started another book, didn’t finish it. Just enjoying life. Looking for someone to share my place, maybe more.”

“Don’t know why I said that. Not sure anyone could share some of my peculiar interests. But it would be nice if I could find someone …” she just stopped talking for a moment. “You don’t have a boyfriend do you?”

The phrase ‘peculiar interests’ caught my attention, but let it slide. I was sure it didn’t matter to me.

“No ma’am I don’t. Not seeing anyone now. I had a girlfriend last semester for a while.”

“Never thought about a label. I did enjoy the touch of my girlfriend laying against my back during the night those rare times we got to share a bed. Other roommates you know.” I lied, not much, don’t know why I did, but Jan and I only slept together all night a few times. Mostly just a wamm bamm fuck you ma’am kind of thing when we weren’t in class and the others weren’t there.

“Like the way you put that. Let me show you the place.”

We walked down the hall, all the rooms were on the left side of the hallway, each had a window in the outside wall, and a door into the hall. She was in front of me, not looking back. “The place next door is a mirror image. I have it rented to a nice older couple.” Her crutches made a peculiar sound as she walked, a step, thud, step, thud, that echoed off the hard plaster of the walls, tall ceilings, and the bare southern pine wood floors. Parlor, bedroom, bath, bedroom, dinning room, kitchen, in that order. The bath had a claw foot tub, shower head, and a curtain hanging from a oval shaped rod suspended from the ceiling. Both bedrooms had furniture in them, queen bed and small dresser, nice oriental rug, plus a closet. On the walls in each room were photographs, hers I assumed. “Not big, but it is nice, and easy to take care of. I use the dining room table for my writing, sometimes to eat, not often a big meal. You are welcome to share it for your studies. I’m asking $200 and that includes utilities. If you’re interested, you could move in now, tomorrow, or whenever you have time.”