The Naughty 90s

When I was in my second year of university, I house-shared with four other people. One of them was a girl called Marie. We were immediately drawn to one another. It remained unspoken. We weren't known to be 'best friends' in the house. That was me and Leo, or Marie and Lucy. But there was this weird thing where we would occasionally catch each other's eye and smile, and we'd sometimes just know to sit kind of close to each other on the sofa. Every time I spoke, her eyes would immediately lock into mine, and it was like we were the only two people in the room. We rarely actually planned to do anything together, just the two of us. That would be like admitting too much.

Neither of us had had a boyfriend. At least, Marie had never mentioned one. No one really thought it was that strange that I hadn't, as I was quite quirky and very into my studies. I seemed like the sort of person who wouldn't want a boyfriend. Marie, on the other hand, was more overtly feminine. She wore a lot of dresses, always had long pretty hair, wore a lot of perfume. She loved pink, and it made me love pink because it reminded me of her.

Lucy and the other girl we lived with were always teasing her about her standards being impossible, and suggesting guys they could set her up with. Sometimes, Marie agreed, and she went on a date. Watching her float around the house sipping wine and listening to music as she got ready filled me with dread.

It was okay though, because I knew I would have her back in my bed before long. That was something we'd started to do. We'd watch TV in my room, or a film, and fall asleep. 'University is basically just one big sleepover,' we often joked, but she rarely slept in anyone else's room, even Lucy's. Lucy was kind of jealous. She thought that I was replacing her as Marie's best friend. The thing is, it was the mid 90s. It just wasn't seen as normal or viable to be a lesbian or bisexual unless you were A Lesbian - that is to say, it was the entirety of what you were, what you did, how you looked, and what you were known for. It was only the girls who looked like Ellen DeGeneres of K. D. Lang. It's not as if they were ridiculed or anything - far from it - but they were a distinct category of person. It just wasn't possible that an ordinary girl with long hair and feminine mannerisms could want a woman in the same way a man wanted a woman.

We slept side by side for so many nights without anything happening.

I think the first time it happened, we were both pretending to still be asleep. We simply rolled on top of each other. Well, I was on top of Marie. But it felt like it was all dreamily choreographed.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that evening. We'd watched a film together, as usual, Pulp Fiction. It was pretty late. As the film started coming to the end, Marie lay back with her eyes closed and said, 'I'm so tired, I can't be bothered to go all the way back to my room.'

'Fine,' I said, excitement welling up in my chest. (Excitement for what? I honestly think sex was the furthest thing from my mind. I just liked her being there. I felt so lucky).

So that one, fateful night, it finally happened. My eyes were closed and I'm sure hers were too. I just started moving my body in a way that felt good for me. We were like that for a few moments, humping and rocking, both fully dressed in pyjamas, but that didn't stop it feeling great. It was getting hotter and hotter between my legs and then a sharp feeling crept up. I was incredibly naive. I had never done anything like this before. Not with another person. But it was a familiar feeling. I knew what was happening. It was getting harder to pretend I was asleep. The feeling was getting sharper and sharper and I was suddenly scared. Marie seemed a million miles away and I didn't care about anything apart from not letting the feeling go away. It felt like I was gripping onto something that was slipping through my fingers, and I had to hold tight, as if I let go it would plummet over a cliff never to be seen again. But I was gripping it with my fingertips and they were growing weaker. I rubbed myself against Marie faster, and that made the feeling more secure, and more intense. It felt like it would explode, and then it went away. I was out of breath. We broke apart and the next thing I knew I was opening my eyes to the morning. We didn't look at each other. That locked-eyed, smiling thing we usually did - absolutely not. We didn't mention anything, of course. It hadn't actually happened.

My shame didn't come from being with Marie like that. It came from my fear that she hadn't wanted it after all, or that she had, but now felt disgusted. The idea of having been with Marie like that actually filled me with indescribable joy. But then the question 'what if she doesn't feel the same way?' always popped up and made me feel filthy.

Obviously I understand now that the best solution would have been to speak to her about it. But that was out of the question then. Even without my own embarrassment and fear, which perhaps I could have pushed to one side, was the fact that the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass HER by acknowledging it had happened at all. Like I said, I thought there was an unspoken agreement that it hadn't happened. It was hell.

That was until a Friday night just over two weeks later. We had largely managed to avoid each other, only speaking politely when we needed to. Our housemates thought we had fallen out. But that Friday, I was in the kitchen, pouring myself a wine, and Marie came up behind me. 'Can you pour me one?' she said. Of course, I did. When I handed it to her, she didn't look away. It was back again, her usual look, and then she simply said, 'I've just rented Heavenly Creatures. Do you want to watch it with me?'

That night, under the covers, she reached out and touched my arm with her hand. She slid towards me, and then gently pulled and guided my body so I was on top of her. I moved against her like before, still with my eyes closed, but listening to her breathing. It became faster and faster as I rubbed against her. When I felt the sharp feeling between my legs coming to its climax, I still listened to her breathing. She seemed to hold her breath and wince just before I rolled away from her. We went to sleep without a word.

We did it like that a few more times, but taking less and less care to pretend we were asleep. In the mornings, we would smile at each other. We still wouldn't talk about it, but the awkwardness had gone. The unspoken connection was back, but now we understood the reason for it.

One night, I opened my eyes when I felt her hand touch me. And was startled to see that moonlight was streaming in, and that I could see Marie clearly. Her eyes were open too, and she was looking back at me. We did what we usually did, but we kept on looking at each other. She was smiling. I smiled. Then, the feeling. It was so good. I buried my head half in the pillow and half in Marie's neck. I was thrusting into her quite hard, deliberately, feeling bold, and for the first time, she spoke. She said, 'yeah' - well, she whispered it. And I heard the choke in her voice - I recognised that she must have the same strained feeling in her throat as I did. She sounded how I felt. We both felt the same pleasure. I was overcome by passion. I wanted more. 'I wish I was a man,' I murmured through gritted teeth, 'so I could push my cock inside you.' I don't know what came over me, it was like someone else was speaking through my mouth, 'if I was a man I'd marry you, and we'd do this every night, naked.' I thought I was going to climax soon, but then to my shock, Marie pushed me away. No, she wasn't pushing me away, she was moving me onto my back. I lay there, looking up at her. She got on top of me, and started doing the same thing to me that I usually did to her. Then, she put her lips to my ear: 'I've had a cock inside me,' she whispered, 'and it didn't feel good. It didn't feel like this.' I had my eyes closed, I was lying there completely at her mercy, 'but I want to be inside you,' I whispered back, without opening my eyes. She'd had a cock in her. I couldn't believe it. The thought excited me. I imagined her being stretched and filled. But she said she hadn't liked it.

I opened my eyes. She was sat up slightly on me as she bounced. I looked at her night shirt. I could see the outline of them, her breasts, moving. I couldn't believe I'd never thought of this before, but I was now suddenly desperate to see what she looked like under her clothes while all this was happening. I took my hands, and put them on her waist, at the bottom of her shirt. Then, I moved my hands upwards, under the fabric, until I could feel them. They were warm and heavy. The firm, smooth, hot flesh jiggled against my palms. 'Yes,' Marie said. 'Yeah,' I replied, 'yes.' I closed my eyes again and just delighted in the pleasure of being able to feel her breasts like this. Then I opened my eyes and unbuttoned her shirt, almost too quickly. Out they came. Big and beautiful. I watched them move as she moved. I put my hands against them again to feel the weight of them in my palms again, and the hardness of her nipples. I put my mouth to one. It tasted like powder, so dry, parched, it was as if I was giving them life by lubricating her nipple with my saliva. I sucked. She made a groaning noise that sounded like pain. Nothing had ever felt so good and so right in my mouth. It was almost annoying that I couldn't swallow them. I put the other nipple in my mouth and sucked hungrily, and back to the other. It was as if I was starving and they were feeding me. The way they looked - I knew that it was because of the way Marie was moving that made them bounce, and the fact her arms were pressed together that made her nipples face right towards me, but it was like she was putting on a show just for my pleasure.

I still couldn't believe I hadn't thought of this before.

I pulled off my own top. My breasts weren't as big as Marie's, but they weren't small, either. I sat up so that our breasts were touching, and stared at them open mouthed as Marie and I both moved in a way that made them bounce together. She stared down at them too. I think we were both a little bit in shock at how sexy it looked, by how easily the two of us had created something this sublime. I caught her eye, and we both smiled, knowingly. The way she was moving on me didn't hit my spot in they way it did when I was on top, but I could see that it was happening for her, and she was starting to lose control, and that made me feel even better than I felt when I was humping and pumping away on top of her.

Her thrusts became quicker, and then slower. She was closing her eyes and screwing up her face. She thrust into me once, twice. I held my breath. There was silence for a moment, she wasn't breathing either. Then she let out a cry, and opened her eyes. She saw I'd been gazing at her the whole time, and she smiled, a little embarrassed if I wasn't mistaken, but flushed and happy. She fell onto her back. I quickly moved back to my usual position, bearing down on her, not breaking eye contact, we both couldn't stop smiling. She knew what I wanted, but since she'd just climaxed she'd lost the single-minded hungriness that I still possessed. I'd been having my cunt rubbed and rubbed for the last fifteen minutes, it was hot, and now I also had the image of Marie's breasts bouncing as she ground and came, and she was still right in front of me, half naked and receptive.

I pulled and kicked my pyjama bottoms off. I felt so exposed. It was scary. I suddenly felt as though my cunt had grown to twice the size it was before, and that it was going to drip onto Marie's expensive silk pyjamas. 'Can I,' I whispered, tugging at the hem. And 'yes,' she whispered back, helping me. Then, there we were. Both naked. Both swollen, both wet. Finally, this is what I had wanted. I hadn't understood, I'd thought I needed to be a man, but this was it. This was everything.

I lowered myself onto her. I hadn't ever really thought about it before, what was happening under our pyjamas. I'd just known it felt good. Now, all the secrets were out. All pretense of fumbling around half asleep: gone. I lowered myself onto her. And we both gasped as our wet, hairy cunts pressed together. It was like slipping into a cool lake after weeks in the desert. They kissed. They made the wet sound of two mouths kissing. I pulled off, and went down again, pressing harder this time, grinding, listening for the wet sound. And then I started going to town. She let out another gasp. I wasn't being slow and gentle, I was grinding and grinding, she tilted her head back, let her body move in answer to my thrusting hips, her breasts once again moving, but they looked different this time. I still couldn't look away from them. Grinding, grinding, rubbing my clitoris against her plump, juicy vulva. We were like two ripe peaches being pushed together. Imagine how the flesh would give, and the juice would run into your hands, it was like that. Grinding, bumping, rubbing. Slick movements. One wet cunt gliding over another wet cunt, again and again, until both clitorises became so engorged we were half mad. The longer we did it the less pressure was required to feel good. We were so wet it felt like there was a thick bubble between us, but it didn't stop our clits from finding each other and giving each other the pleasure they needed. I could barely think straight, just clit on clit, that's all, clit on clit, until she screamed, she gasped. I gasped. Never before had it felt so good. I gripped her arms and she gripped my hips, fingernails pressing into flesh, 'yes, yes, Marie, fuck me,' I breathed, 'grind your beautiful little cunt against mine.' She did, I did. We came together.

Reader, I married her. As I wished during that mad moment of passion, I do now indeed do that to her every night, naked. Just not as a man, as a woman.

That's not to say I haven't pushed 'my cock' into her a few times. I have a nice, perfectly shaped dildo, and she loves the way it feels when I put it inside her, because I know exactly how she likes it. It makes me wet to watch her get stretched and filled as I gently push my way inside. And I've tasted her, more times than I can count, and she has me. We've never stopped enjoying each other's bodies, even as they've changed throughout the years. But our favourite thing to do will always be grinding together, my sex against hers, and each time feels as shocking and thrilling as the first.