Filth ain't filth if it's funny!
I had a pal. Complete opposite of me, physically. Where I’m fair in complexion, she was ebony.
Very beautiful with a toned, slender figure. I always admired her beauty and her large breasts. I didn’t consider myself curious about the same sex at all.
I like beauty, male or female. I didn’t feel sexual about her but I appreciated the fun we would have together.
Every night we would conquer a new club. Every night a free, good time.
After a few years of hanging out non-stop we ended up slowly drifting into different directions.
A few attitudes here and there. Some accusations that I flirted with her men. Surprising and unfounded.
Eventually, as I’m known to do, I was drunk in her neighborhood. With ecstasy tablets. We texted, then talked. Agreed to pill pop and get super wasted. Just like old times. Not quite.
We started drinking. I shared my ecstasy. We giggled about old escapades. Kissed. It’s a little blurry about who made that first move.
In the bedroom, we took each other’s tops off. She did have the most amazing breasts. It was like playing with responsive, firm, warm, foreign orbs. This part was great.
We played Tittycake for some time. Kissing each other, rubbing. Everything that’s great when you’re at the beginning stages of lovemaking with a man, but softer. Less urgent.
Anticipation built. We were both turned on, that lovely slow build up. Removed each other’s pants in the dark. Still fascinated by feeling each other. So different. Silky. Smooth.
Down to our panties we paused, both contemplating if this was going too far. She reached inside my panties first.
So gently, knowing exactly where to stroke me. I came, with her hand cupping me, fingers softly fluttering inside me.
Wanting to give back, aroused by the newness of this, I removed her satin thong. Kissed her breasts. Made my way down her stomach.
Nervous but excited, feeling safe in the dark room, I lowered my face to her. Opened my mouth tentatively. Tasted curly, matted, wiry hair.
Shocked, I paused. Who the fuck has a bush in 2011?! I tried to turn my face away in rejection.
Legs clamped in place over my shoulders. I tried to buck myself backwards. Her once gentle hands clasped the back of my neck in some type of Kung Fu Muay Thai grip.
I tried to yelp but she hip rotated on me at the same time. I had a mouth full of pubic Brillo pad! I made space by wriggling back, grunting in horror.
Enough space to suck in air through my now wet lips.
What felt like pliant, minuscule thorns shot down my throat, coating my tongue, curling around my teeth.
I gagged again, spit out as much as I could. I didn’t care that I was lobbing hairy loogies in her twat.
Dirty bitch. She was moaning that she was almost there, not to stop. Bitter, I spit more hairballs and saliva at her poon. She came. Released her abductors grip.
I grabbed my jeans, panties, shirt, heels and left.
All those years hanging out I never knew that she was a fucking savage.