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I fell onto my bed but could not sleep. I got up and took a shower, then looked around for something to do. I had done all of my homework, even finished two papers that were not due for months. I looked into my hamper but found it did not contain enough for even one load. My desk was clean, my bed was made, I had called my parents the day before. Bills had been paid, email answered, blood donated, lines memorized. I looked in my desk drawers and saw neat stacks of records and receipts, enumerating what I had been up to. It struck me then that wanting Masha had led me to a bizarre state of overachievement. I had always been a decent student, and fairly tidy, but now I was impassioned. I was pursuing excellence, thinking that when I found it, she would be there.

Lindsay was home, but asleep. I woke her up.

“Jesus, Kelsey, it’s six in the morning!” she bellowed.

“I slept with her,” I told her.

“No shit,” said Lindsay, sitting up. “Good for you.”

“I have to break up with Tim,” I announced.

“What? You barely know her!”

“Not for her, silly. For me. I’m not attracted to him. Not enough, anyway. I think I must be a lesbian.”

“And you never noticed this when you slept with me? You are in trouble!” She huffed and folded her arms.

“Maybe you are not the person to have this discussion with,” I ventured. I started to get up.

“No, no, no!” She grabbed me and pulled me back down. “It’s okay. I didn’t become a lesbian after sleeping with you either. But poor Tim!” I nodded. “But Tim is like a 7, which is great if the sexiest you’ve ever seen is a 10, which it was until Masha. But Masha is like a 23 quatrillion.” Lindsay and I often measured things in numbers.

“Quatrillion is not a word,” said Lindsay. “And by the way, what am I?”

“Oh, at least an 8.” I knew it was important to her that she be higher than Tim.

“But she could turn out to be an asshole,” Lindsay said, going back to Masha.

“Who cares? She’s a 23 quatrillion. If I wanted nice, I’d stick with Tim.”

“Well, she could stop wanting you,” Lindsay suggested. “Stranger things have happened.”

“They have,” I agreed. “Still, I have to break up with Tim. I am an ass not to have done it before. I knew that I didn’t want him enough weeks ago on the treadmill.”

“What?” Lindsay was confused. “What does jogging have to do with it?”

“Never mind. I have to go. Thanks,” I said, “for listening.” I got up and left. Sunday morning I was at Masha’s door. She had called twice on Saturday, but I had been with Tim. It occurred to me as I knocked that perhaps I should have called her back, instead of just showing up. I stood there pondering in the cold. I had dressed carefully, trying not to look like I had. I wore a little gray wool skirt and my black leather jacket. Lindsay called the outfit my “study in opposites.” Eventually, Jane, one of Masha’s housemates, showed up and let me in.

“Hi,” I said. Jane was a drama major, and I had met her a couple of times.

“Morning,” she said, smiling. “Masha’s in the shower. Want some coffee while you wait?”

I followed her into the kitchen, where all three of Masha’s other housemates were puttering around with cups of coffee and newspapers and bagels and things.

“Quite a hubbub,” I commented to Jane after she introduced me to everyone.

“Yeah, it’s a big house, but the kitchen gets crowded mornings.” She handed me a cup of coffee and sat opposite me at the table.

“So, rehearsals for you guys start tomorrow, yeah?” Jane asked.

I nodded. We talked a little bit about the play and about professors. Then Jane told Eric, one of the housemates, “Go tell Masha Kelsey’s here. She’s gotta be out by now.”

Eric nodded conspiratorially and left. Jane and I kept chatting until Masha came in. She was wearing a very small tank top and boxers. She seemed like a haven of smooth skin, stomach and thighs. How anyone else in the room was still standing was beyond me. Our eyes met, and I grinned like an idiot. My cunt was oozing instantly, and I was sweating and drooling and breathless. I spread my legs instinctively, under the table, and was immediately sorry when my hamstring throbbed. Masha came over and sat next to me.

“Hi,” she said, gloating over the state I was in.

“Hi,” I told her.

Jane got up and left the room. Masha and I just sat there. She looked at me directly, smiling but not saying anything. I stirred my coffee needlessly. The others soon wandered off as well, casually and one after the other. It was so subtle I almost would have thought they had other things to do. She had them well trained.

Finally she said, “I was wondering if you would call me back.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t, but I’m here. Is that okay?”

“Uh-huh.” She gave me another slow smile. I tried to maintain my composure, but ended up taking her hand and sucking on her index finger. After a moment, she gently took her hand away. I almost cried.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t give my first casino siteleri born to have you sucking my fingers, but I think that we should talk,” she said.

“Talk?!” I almost shouted.

She laughed. “I know. It isn’t our forte, but I have some things to tell you.”

I waited.

“I may be a slut,” she said, “but I am not interested in suffering, so I need to know if your agreement with Tim was for one night with me or what.”

“I broke up with Tim,” I told her, knowing it was risky.

“Well, I hope not on my account,” she said, trying not to look alarmed. “I want you on and on and on, but I don’t love you or anything.”

“I know. I don’t love you either, but I am evidently a raging lesbian, and Tim is clearly a man.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding relieved but confused. “You know rumor has it you are the preeminent bisexual.”

“Rumor is wrong,” I told her. “I was mistaken, too.”

“Gee, this talking stuff is full of surprises.” She stretched and yawned. Then she got up and went over to the coffee pot. “I’m just gonna stand over here where I can’t smell you,” she said, grinning sheepishly. “I promised myself I would talk to you, and I have a few more things to cover.”

“Okay,” I said.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip. “So, you know that was my first time with a woman.”

“What?” It is a good thing I was sitting. “But I heard you made out with Emily Heidiker in dance studio A.”

“Right. We were interrupted.”

“So, what, you just stopped and left?” I was incredulous. I could not imagine anyone not finishing with Masha.

“Brandon Mitchell walked in on us. He wanted to practice pirouettes or some dumb thing, and he insisted we give up the room. By the time we found another place, the mood had passed.”

“So, you never…”

“No.”

“But you…” I stopped.

“I what?” she said.

“You had me coming my guts out. You hit my g-spot on the first try.” I was astounded. “I guess experience doesn’t count for much.”

“I don’t know. But I’ve always thought imagination,” she said, looking me up and down “is very powerful.”

“I guess so,” I murmured, remembering the way she had handled me. I wanted to tell her about it, to thank her, worship her, give her money, whatever. But I could not find the medium. That, I decided, is why there is sex. To thank people. Thank you for being so good with your hands that you made me come six times in effortless abandon, for instance. Thank you for being so goddamn beautiful that I run an hour on the treadmill, do four loads of laundry and all of my homework for the next two months without even noticing, for instance. Thank you for pulling your body through the world in such an intensely sexual way that I am born again like a freaking Christian, for instance.

I sat in the chair, looking into my coffee and not knowing what to do. I repeated to myself like a mantra, “You are not in love . . . you are not in love.” We had been silent for several minutes when Masha spoke.

“Right now,” she said huskily, coming over to me, “I am imagining you, on your back on that table.”

She came up behind me and dragged her lips along my neck, reaching around me to cup my breast. She slowly stroked my nipple with her thumb and I felt it harden through my shirt. I started to pant. She pulled me up and kissed me, nudging her tongue into my mouth. She let go of my breast and ran her hands down my ribcage and around to my ass. She stood there shaping my body with her hands and kissing me for a while, more slowly and more deeply than she had before. Her tongue wound its way around mine, pulling itself across my teeth as she moaned. She pulled her lips from mine, moved down and grazed her teeth along my throat.

“You have an incredible body,” she murmured as she pushed me backwards into the table, continuing to kiss my neck and beginning to knead my thigh.

“We’re in the kitchen,” I managed to stammer as her hand moved slowly up my thigh. “What if somebody comes?”

“Nobody is going to come in here,” she told me as she bit gently into the side of my neck. “We have weekly house meetings, and there is a policy in place about you.” She stopped and straightened up, looking at me and tracing my lips with her index finger.

“So, do you want me to stop or what?”

“Absolutely not,” I told her, taking her finger in my mouth.

“Good,” she grinned at me. “Now, about our sex: It seemed the other night,” she began, pushing me back into the table, “like you were primarily a finger girl, but I was hoping we could renegotiate that because I need to taste you again. Often.”

“I don’t know,” I teased. I nibbled on the tip of her middle finger. “How often would that be?”

“Well, now for starters,” she replied as she leaned in to kiss me. I was dizzy as her tongue again swept me into bliss and pressed back against the table for support. It slid across the kitchen and stopped against the wall. We shuffled sloppily towards it, Masha guiding me. She picked canlı casino me up, still kissing me and sat me on top of it. She pulled her finger down my neck and started to unbutton my shirt. My clit was hard and hot and aching. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her more intensely. She responded and brought her palm again to my breast. She squeezed it, then took the nipple through the fabric of my shirt and twisted. I groaned and pulled her other hand under my skirt to my crotch. She seemed excited by my urgency and quickly unbuttoned the rest of my blouse while kneading my pussy through my panties. I took my mouth away from her to breathe and drew my tongue down behind her ear.

“Oh, God, Masha. Yes,” I gasped as she pressed into my cunt and reached beneath my bra to stroke my nipple. I spread my legs further, wincing from my hamstrings but not caring, and pushed my pelvis to the edge of the table. She removed her hand from between my legs and removed my skirt. I lifted up to let her pull it off of me. I was so wet I made a spot on the table. I needed her to touch me and wished I had not worn underwear. It was only another second before she was back, licking my lips and then kissing me while she reached beneath my panties for my clit. I gasped and moaned as she separated my lips with her fingers and found it. It was swollen and pulsing, and she stroked it so slowly it was hard to tell she was moving her fingers at all. She could tell from how I kissed her that I was close, and she did not want me to come until she was licking me. She removed my panties, then resumed the subtle stroking. After a few moments of this, I found I could not wait for her to eat me, which was surprising to me because she had been right. I was usually a finger girl. Now, however, I was only just managing not to beg, as she touched me with maddening slowness. Finally, knowing she had planned it, I stopped kissing her and gasped into her ear.

“Masha,” I whispered, shaking and weak “eat me. Please.” 7 She did not make me ask a second time, but laid me back on the table, pushed my legs open roughly and dove in. The pressure of her tongue on my clit was much firmer and sharper than her fingers’ stroking had been, and I immediately began to gasp and shudder, grabbing her head and bucking my hips into her. Her tongue flicked my clit until I came quickly, moaning and whispering her name. She pushed her tongue into my hole while I closed and opened around it. She pulled her head up and watched me as she slid two fingers into me and fucked me, hitting my g-spot until I was newly excited. After a while she withdrew her fingers, lowered her head and began to circle my clit again with her tongue. She licked me slowly and gently for a long time.

She was exploring me, drawing her tongue between my folds and only occasionally hitting my clitoris. Soon, I knew that I would come again despite her best efforts to keep me hovering on the edge. Finally, she brought her tongue to my clit and stayed there, lapping at it steadily. I heard her groan as she slid one finger into me again and reached up for my nipple with her other hand. I was much louder as orgasm engulfed me the second time, hurling me into waves of ecstasy. My climax lasted for almost a minute, and Masha gripped my thighs as she followed me, never losing contact with my clit. I lay there panting afterwards, opening my eyes and trying to focus. Masha, still in her tank top and boxers, climbed onto the table with me and held me as I caught my breath. I looked at her, still feeling myself clench, and pulled her to me. I kissed her once, my body languid with eroticism.

“I hope this doesn’t freak you out,” I whispered to her, “but that was the best orgasm of my life.”

She smiled. “Guess we solved that problem,” she said proudly.

“What problem is that?” I asked her.

“You being a finger girl.”

I laughed. “Yeah. So much for that.” I was still a finger girl, but did not want to break her spirit.

“Now, I’m just your girl,” I said, rolling toward her. I realized the table was hard.

“Can we go to your bed?” I asked her.

She nodded. I got up, and we cleaned the table together. Then I grabbed all of my clothes and followed her. We sprinted so I could avoid being seen naked by her housemates in the hallway. When we got there, I dropped my clothes and started taking hers off as I kissed her. Within a minute I had reached into her boxers, groaning, and shoved three of my fingers into her sloppy wet cunt. I fucked her, pulling my fingers up into her g-spot, and she moaned softly as I shoved her backwards onto the bed. I leered at her from above, took her nipple roughly into my mouth and gently nipped at it as I pulled my hand out of her pussy and rubbed her engorged clit. She gasped and started to shake and come before I could stop her. I quashed my disappointment and stayed with her, rubbing her clit vigorously as she shuddered and moaned in my arms. I stopped touching her pussy and concentrated on her breasts as she recovered, sucking kaçak casino one nipple while caressing her other breast with my palm.

Her nipples were stiffer than I remembered them, and the thought sent a pang to my cunt. I flicked my tongue over her left nipple and squeezed the other between my thumb and forefinger as I straddled her left leg and pushed my again excited pussy into her knee. She brought it up into me, sighing, and I could tell she was ready to come again. I continued to toy with her nipples as I pushed my knee into her vulva. She was still wet from before and pushed her hips into me, closing her eyes and moaning. I kissed her, entwining my tongue with hers as I reached down between her legs. I pulled her lips apart and teased her for a while, touching her crevices as she gasped and pleaded with me to take her. Finally, I gave her clitoris some attention, nudging it quickly with my thumb and then lowering my body so I could take her with my mouth. I inhaled greedily and looked at her for a moment, pulling her apart with my fingers as she whimpered for more direct contact. Her lips were glistening with wetness, and her clitoris was red and erect. I took it between my fingers and squeezed gently, then gave it a few quick strokes as she gasped.

I was drooling by now and could not tease her any longer. I shoved my face into her and licked her whole vulva clean. Then I pushed my tongue between her lips and pulled it up slowly onto her clit tip. I began gently to trace circles around it as I slid my fingers back into her vagina. My own cunt was throbbing by now, and I was grateful when she pulled me around so that my pussy hovered over her face. She clamped one arm around my thigh, then used her other hand to open me up and slide her finger along my slit. I groaned and flicked her clit more avidly, continued fucking her and tried to fight off my already approaching orgasm. She stroked me a couple of times with her finger, then put her face into me and started licking. We ate each other, and she began to moan into my pussy. Soon, she doubled her pace and I could no longer stop my ascent. Instead, I flicked her clit more rapidly with my tongue and slid my fingers in and out of her. She was writhing and groaning now, and I allowed myself to let go. My clit was enflamed with sensation as we both came, clinging to each other and gasping as we licked.

After a few minutes it occurred to me that I might be squashing her. I crawled over to her side, and she rolled towards me, pushing the hair out of my eyes and beginning to kiss me again. I relaxed in her arms and kissed her back, engulfed in the eroticism of her tongue discovering mine. We lay there making out, not trying to make each other come for once. I was giddy with the knowledge that after all those orgasms, she still wanted to lie here and kiss me. After what seemed like an hour, there was a knock on the door. She pulled away, and I whimpered.

“Yeah?” she said.

“Um. So sorry to disturb.” It was Jane’s voice. “We’re grilling steaks for dinner. Do you guys want some?” Masha looked at me. “No way is it dinner time,” I whispered, shocked. She smiled.

“Yeah,” she said to Jane, through the door. “We want. Give us a half hour?”

“Okay,” Jane said, “we’ll put yours on last.” I heard her run back down the stairs. Masha got up and rummaged through her dresser. She pulled out a pile of clothing and pulled me out of bed.

“C’mon,” she said, “shower with me.”

We ran down the hallway to the bathroom naked, Masha carrying the clothes. In the shower, she took me again. I came quickly, gasping and pressed against the tiles, her fingers stroking me into one climax after another. Finally I could not come anymore. We got out and dressed. She let me borrow some clothes, since the ones I had worn over had my juices all over them. Her clothes smelled like her. They were just a bit too big for me, and I liked that.

We got downstairs 45 minutes later, but Jane did not comment on it. Our food was still warm, and Eric and the others were sitting around the table, which had been moved back into the center of the room. All of Masha’s housemates went out of their way to make me feel as if our all-day fuck-a-thon had gone unnoticed, and I was grateful. Masha sat beside me, grinning and chatting with her friends, her fingers warm on my thigh.

After dinner, we offered to clean the kitchen, since we had done none of the cooking. I enjoyed the familiar touches she gave me as we worked. The housemates stayed at the table, chatting and finishing their wine. As we were finishing up, she came up behind me.

“Spend the night?” she whispered.

I dropped the cup I was drying. It was plastic, and bounced and rolled. I chased it down and started to wash it again. I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

“Look, Kelsey, I know you’re tired.” Masha had followed me back to the sink. She grinned, taking the cup from me and putting it down on the counter. “I’ll let you sleep. I’ll just hold you. I promise.”

I was tired, although my hamstrings were beginning to adapt to her onslaught. Mainly, though, I was afraid because my desire was not lessening. I was afraid that if I spent any more time with her, I would ask her to fuck me raw.

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