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This story picks up from “Holding Out for a Hero”, “Irresistible Attraction”, “Sexual Desire” and “Saving Julia’s (So Sexy) Ass”. As usual I’ve tried my best to make the story readable in its own right, to save readers who missed earlier episodes having to backtrack. Hopefully Heather’s “catching up” early on in the tale will tell everyone all she/he needs to know.
That much said I feel the need to add a sort of spoiler alert. Those familiar with Heather will know by now that she is “well on the lezzie side of bi”. In Chapter One she does spend a night with a guy but worry not: I’ve gone into hardly any detail and it’s all for the good of the (otherwise lesbian) plot.
Guys! Huh, who needs them anyway?
(April 2002, Lancashire: Friday afternoon)
When she looked back on the last five or six months Heather struggled to believe how domesticated she’d become. Previously she’d bed-hopped her way through life, forever in pursuit of “beautiful” and “new” when it came to bed-mates. Since October she had limited herself to merely three lovers, all of them beautiful, naturally, and all of them exceptionally hot.
But only three! She’d been used to taking three new lovers a week. Having a mere three in six months was . . . Well, it was simply incredible.
During this change of lifestyle she had been seeing mostly Julia (“seeing” in Heather’s brand of jargon meaning “sleeping with and shagging the arse off”). Varying between Julia’s place and her own they’d averaged close to four nights out of every seven.
And why not! Julia was a fellow university student, albeit on a totally different course. She was black, tall, and stunningly good-looking; almost certainly the best-looking person Heather had ever set eyes on, never mind repeatedly shagged. Cast together by a random twist of Fate, they had quickly got to the point where they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. In fact they reached that point perhaps after just one single day and it was the same situation right now, half a year down the line.
Before Heather, Julia had been a virgin as far as girls were concerned, although she hadn’t let on that fact until the morning after. Heather had been astounded. She wasn’t a virgin in any sense of the term and, off hand, couldn’t recall having had very many more satisfying female lovers.
Yes, legions of lovers and only a handful who could begin to compare.
There again Julia oozed sex. A girl wanted to cum just looking at her. Getting to touch, taste, feel and smell as well as look was obviously going to do the trick.
If that first night was sensational here comes breaking news: having sex with Julia only ever got better because the more they did it . . .
Well, use your imagination and multiply the result by ten!
Heather had split the other three nights of the week as so: one for Lorna, one for Carole and the other for much-needed beauty sleep.
(Not that she really needed any more beauty. Tall herself, raven-haired and needing no makeup at all she looked good without trying. Oh yes her face was pretty enough and her honed, toned and tanned body always attracted more than its fair share of attention.)
Lorna was also a fellow student on a totally different course. She was a little on the short side but had a great figure which went well with her sexy looks, her bright blue eyes and blonde hair. She had also given up her girl on girl virginity to Heather and also got even better every time the two shared a bed. There again, she was getting in lots of practice. While Julia had limited herself solely to Heather over the last six months, Lorna had taken to bed-hopping like a duck takes to water.
If anyone was helping herself to three brand-new (female) lovers every week nowadays, it was Lorna.
Carole . . . otherwise known as WPC Green . . . was the intriguing older woman. Mysterious about her age (she was somewhere in her early thirties) with short brown hair, Bambi’s mother’s irresistible eyes and a sexual appetite to match Heather’s own ravenous, insatiable hunger. She was also experienced in the ways of women . . . no, make that very highly experienced indeed.
Shagging with Carole was always a privilege.
And there it was: Heather, the girl who didn’t do relationships had been in three simultaneously for the last half year. Nobody else had had as much as a look in.
Well, nobody else apart from her old school chum, Mary Rose. They’d had a fortnight in Tenerife over Christmas and another in Lanzarote over Easter. But Mary Rose didn’t count. They had holidayed as lovers ever since they were teenagers, in both instances courtesy of the Bank of Dad. Chances were they would maintain the tradition forever.
Back and two weeks into the last term of the academic year Heather was quite content with her lot. At least she was until Carole called with the bad news, not two hours before they were due to meet for a night of hot, hot, hot!
‘There’s a bastard flap on,’ she said in greeting. ‘I’ll casino siteleri be lucky to get out of here before midnight. Sorry and all that, but that’s how it is.’
‘Brownie points for working over,’ suggested Heather.
‘More like getting the big heave-ho if I don’t,’ Carole replied with a short, sharp laugh.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Heather, ‘we can always catch up next week.’
Now Carole’s laugh was longer and warmer. ‘You always want to fuck all night. How can we catch up for two nights in only one?’
‘Trust me, babe, I’ll find a way.’
Confirming next week was no miss, even if at the cost of her coveted job, Carole rang off.
‘Rats,’ said Heather. She was in the university gym, circuit training as was her wont late afternoon on a weekday, mobile by her side as ever. Then, aware she’d lost count of her trunk curls and guessing she had already done more than this circuit’s fifty, she chuckled.
‘Guess I’d better find something else to do,’ she muttered as she moved on to bench-pressing.
The obvious answer was to call either Lorna or Julia, with the emphasis on Lorna. Heather had spent the last two nights with Julia and saw Lorna but once a week, so it only seemed fair to ring her first.
Or was it?
Brooding over her impending decision she left campus, avoiding the Union Bar and heading for home. But the lure of a pub entranced her in. Two pints and I’ll make my mind up, she assured herself. Make it three and I’ll toss a coin . . .
The pub of choice was well-known to her and, as ever, didn’t disappoint. They sold Tetley’s that came from the iconic brewery in Leeds rather than the not-quite-so excellent brewery in Warrington. Bingley lasses like Heather appreciated the difference. Two pints pulled to perfection, as if she’d been in The Star on York Street, back home in God’s Own County.
Biting the bullet, she called Lorna . . . and was immediately dismissed. ‘I’m already out with Maxi,’ the little minx said. ‘Certain . . . assurances . . . have already been given.’
Sniggering as she rang off Heather supposed she’d best ring Julia. But, in the two seconds it took to find her number, Martin came up to her table. ‘May I?’ he asked, indicating the stool opposite hers.
Martin was on her course and played rugby. He often showed up for lectures on Mondays with bumps and bruises plain to see. Once he’d even showed with his nose flattened against his right cheek.
Okay, so he was a bloke, but Martin had a lot going in his favour.
And just look at the biceps on him. . .
‘Sure,’ said Heather. ‘Fancy a refill? I’m due another.’
‘I’ll get them,’ he replied, like a typical man.
Heather rolled her eyes. ‘You can get the next ones,’ she said. ‘If that insults your masculinity in some strange way, you can get the next three or seven or ten. I made an offer so be polite and accept it.’
‘Well,’ he drawled like John Wayne, ‘if that’s the best offer you’re gonna make . . .’
Afterwards Heather never could determine what came over her. Martin was a good bloke with a great body and a nice personality to boot. She’d always liked him but she had set out to sink couple of pints in his company and no more. Then she was going to call Julia . . .
Except calling Julia never happened. “A couple of pints” became four, with both of them standing their corner. Not at all drunk (Heather could have downed her drinks on level terms with boozy legends like Oliver Reed and Lee Marvin), she suddenly found herself complimenting Martin on his staying power.
‘I’ve heard all sorts of encouraging things,’ she said, keeping her voice down and leaning in close. ‘I’m not going to name names, but I know girls who can’t praise you highly enough. According to them you are one of the few who can keep it up all night.’
Martin laughed but flushed a tad. ‘I didn’t think my hard-on wouldn’t be of any interest to you.’
He’d had a point. Just then Heather had lost track of the last time she’d had sex with a man. It was a year ago at least, probably more. She had got to the stage where she thought it would never happen again.
Except . . .
Except . . .
So here she was, nine in the morning on the end of an almost sleepless night. Martin had lived up to his very flattering reputation, more or less. As a farewell present Heather shared her shower with him and gave him the blowjob to end all blowjobs.
‘I don’t do guys,’ she announced as they got dressed, back in the cocoon of her bedroom. ‘But I guess I could do you again sometime. Not soon,’ she added hastily, ‘maybe in a fortnight or so.’
‘I could do you again anytime,’ he said sincerely. ‘Just whistle and I’ll come running.’
‘So whistling makes you cum!’ Heather laughed. ‘I wish I’d known four hours ago. I thought you’d go on forever.’
‘I never heard you complaining.’
‘Well I wouldn’t, would I?’
The bliss of Friday night was rudely interrupted canlı casino when they left Heather’s place, her bound for football; Martin bound for a coach to a rugby match in Preston.
Julia was there on the street, larger than life and snarling.
Yes, there, waiting for them.
‘So this is Carole, is it?’ she said with an angry snap and a contemptuous glance at Martin.
‘Carole couldn’t make it,’ said Heather, surprised by the ambush and not at her best.
‘So you fucked this cunt instead?’
Maybe it was her posh schooling but Heather hated swearing (unlike Mary Rose, who could make the most seasoned regimental sergeant major blush in less than a second).
‘Julia . . .’ she began.
But Julia wasn’t listening. Doing a quick about-face she stomped off, her so sexy ass alluring even in the height of her fury and outrage.
That morning the unthinkable happened: Carrie City lost. On the down side it was against a fellow uni side they had always previously thrashed and Carrie herself scored the losing own goal. Yet on the up side they were due to play again in a few weeks’ time. A very angry Carrie had vowed that she would score twice in the right net in the rematch. Knowing her, she’d probably score four.
All in the right net, naturally.
Gloomily, Heather accompanied her teammates to The Union and downed three quick Marston’s. And only then did she look around, taking in her surroundings.
There, on the notorious Lesbians’ Corner, was Lorna up close and personal with Maxi. Maxi was older and an ex-peace camp campaigner. She could be the most aggress lezzie lover conceivable; Heather knew from experience. She was also highly addictive. Seeing as Lorna’s date had already lasted over eighteen hours she assumed Lorna was suitably addicted.
Assuming Lorna hadn’t been there before, of course, in which case the addiction could only be getting stronger.
For a moment or two Heather let herself fantasize about Lorna. She’d been in a straight relationship but had abruptly turned. That had been thanks to Heather, mais naturellement. But once the blinkers were off she’d charged ahead, girl after girl. And here she was, snuggled up to Maxi . . .
Heather had snuggled up to Maxi lots of times. That went without saying. They both liked casual sex and they liked each other, so QED.
‘Hev,’ a voice said, interrupting her daydreams, ‘I’m so, so, sorry.’
It was Julia, all sincerity and extremely apologetic.
Heather met her with a smile. They were due to be “seeing” each other again tonight but, after their earlier encounter, she’d not really been expecting Julia to turn up. Her being here right now had to be a good sign.
‘No need to grovel,’ she said lightly. ‘And I’m sorry if I upset you. I certainly didn’t mean to.’
‘I got three tip-offs,’ said Julia. ‘Girls I know who know we’re having an affair . . . or whatever it is we’re having. They all said the same thing: you were out with a guy, getting up close and personal. It did my head in.’ She shrugged, ‘I didn’t want to believe it, but . . .’
‘But you knew when I’d be going to football and came along to see for yourself.’
‘Yes I did. After a night of sleepless fretting I had to come and see for myself.’
‘Julia, trust me,’ Heather said gently, ‘I wasn’t trying it on behind your back. I really was due to be out with Carole but, as I said, she had to cry off at the last minute.’ Then, crossing her fingers behind her own back, ‘I was sitting in The Oak, wondering whether I should call you or Lorna, then Martin arrived and some strange impulse took over.’
‘I didn’t think you did blokes.’
‘I haven’t in ages. But I’ve known him since Freshers’ Week and I’d heard great things. So, being cast adrift for the night, I thought why not. You know how these things happen, surely.’
Julia frowned for a moment then laughed. ‘I suppose I do, from back in the days when I did blokes.’
‘Well there you go.’
‘Was he any good?’
‘He was very good, for a bloke. But nowhere near as good as you’re going to be tonight . . . I hope.’
‘Never mind tonight, I’m up for this afternoon. Leastways I will be after a few beers.’
Heather pretended to be amazed. ‘But I was going to wine you and dine you tonight, slowly and very seductively.’
‘Consider me already seduced. Four pints and I’m yours.’ Julia’s beautiful face suddenly grinned. ‘No, cancel that. This afternoon you are going to leave everything to me. I owe you as much as I can give for this morning’s stalking. In fact I owe you big-time.’
Heather returned the grin. ‘Okay, if you’re putting it like that, what’s your fancy: Marston’s or lager?’
(Saturday afternoon to Sunday morning)
They arrived at Heather’s around four o’clock and were in her bedroom less than a minute later. Julia immediately took charge . . . as promised . . . and her hostess gladly let her.
Good grief, kissing the girl was hotter than ever! Julia was a couple of inches kaçak casino taller, which was a rare occurrence with Heather and girls. Hey, it wasn’t even an everyday occurrence with her and blokes, back in the mists of time, when she more regularly “did blokes”.
Kissing Julia had always been immense fun. Being steadily stripped by her was enormously enjoyable too. And being eaten by her . . .
Already progressed to master/mistress class, that afternoon Julia excelled. Previously excellent and often divine, suddenly she was inter-galactic. Using her lips, tongue, fingers and nose she seemed to explore every last inch of Heather, inside and out. Or maybe “explore” wasn’t the appropriate word. In reality she didn’t so much explore as feast . . . but in the most wonderful, teasing, tantalizing way.
Who knew how long or how many orgasms? Not Heather. And who actually cared when subjected to such bliss?
Finally, after an immeasurable expanse of time, Heather took over, doing her utmost to match Julia’s skill and application, inducing a string of climaxes that she relished almost as devoutly as her willing victim did.
Ye gods, Julia had taken her up beyond rapture and she had just returned the favour! If anything Julia was even more rapturous!!
Yes, pleasuring Julia pleasured Heather. Pleasuring a girl always did. Using the same list of tools . . . lips, tongue, fingers and nose . . . she did her best to pay exactly the same amount of tender affection as she’d been paid herself.
Bliss, bliss, bliss!
Eventually, (God only knew when, precisely, but by then it was dark outside, so they’d been at it for several gorgeous, lovely, stupefying hours), Heather desisted.
‘Fuck me,’ Julia urged. ‘Get that strapless toy and fuck me. If you’re back into penetration so am I.’
It was Heather’s turn to frown. ‘I’ve always liked penetration.’
‘Yeah, well bring it here and give me what Mr Superstud gave you last night. And hurry up. Making me wait longer than the next ten seconds will be far too late. Any longer and I’ll self-combust.’
Heather didn’t worry too much about the risk of spontaneous combustion but did feel a certain sense of urgency. She swiftly collected the toy of choice, inserting the “pony” end inside herself and climbing on board.
‘Oh my God yes,’ Julia gasped as the “horse” end sank deep inside her, ‘more, more, give me more!’
Heather duly obliged.
‘Harder, harder,’ Julia persisted. ‘Give me it harder!’
Grunting with the effort, Heather went faster and harder, the sound of Julia’s moans and groans sweet in her ears against the background music of their slapping wet groins.
‘Harder,’ Julia wailed, ‘give me it harder and don’t ever stop.’
As if Heather was likely to stop! She’d hardly even started. Her grunts accelerated along with the rest of her body, the rhythmic slapping sounds becoming a round of applause.
‘That’s it,’ Julia squealed, ‘that’s perfect.’
After another immeasurable length of time spent with them regularly swapping roles, taking their turns to generously give and very gratefully take, they paused for a breather. By then it wasn’t dark outside, it was utterly pitch black.
‘No lights on,’ Julia sniggered, ‘that’s a first with you.’
‘I like to see,’ Heather protested. ‘This time I just forgot. You’re too much of a handful.’
‘Don’t you prefer to feel?’ Julia took hold of Heather’s left hand as she spoke, leading it down to the most obvious target of all.
Heather’s fingers skated over Julia’s still-swollen sex, admiring her continuing passion.
‘Feeling’s great,’ she conceded, ‘but we’re going to need forty winks. We’ve been at it ages.’
‘Half an hour each,’ Julia countered, ‘you on me then me on you. Then forty winks. But not as much as one wink more!’
Heather woke to find Julia down on her once again . . . and in the most delightful way. Clearly first to rouse she was using those incredible, Mother Nature-given implements of hers in the most wonderful ways, inside and out.
Good grief but she was startlingly efficient. Talk about the pupil overtaking her mistress!
It was now light outside, although who knew what time it was . . . and who cared? As far as Heather was concerned she could see the most appealing woman in the universe between her legs, head bobbing as she enticed her higher and higher . . .
‘Oh yes, oh yes,’ she gasped. Then, echoing Julia last night . . . and dozens of earlier nights . . . she added, ‘More, more, give me more!’
Julia duly obliged.
At last, aeons later, Heather realized she’d temporarily run out of cums. Tugging Julia by her too sexy hair, relishing every last moment of the beauty’s shapely firm boobs sliding over her six-pack stomach and just as splendid breasts, she smiled up at Julia, taking in the sheen of lady juice coating her face. Smelling herself at a range of less than an inch was a big turn-on . . . She was so moreish!
If Heather could have contorted and licked herself she’d have done so in a flash.
Not that she discounted Julia’s natural talents. The girl was gifted beyond all reason. Who needed to lick herself when Julia could do it a million times better!
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