She Danced Into My Fairytale - Part Three - A Baby Bi-Girl Shares Her First Time
Written by Jungle Jane on July 29, 2008 – 7:13 am -JUNGLE JANE returns with Part Three of the story of her first time with a woman. Missed the first two parts? CLICK HERE to read Part One and CLICK HERE to read Part Two. Enjoy! XOXO BLISS WARRIOR
Saturday morning the ballerina was the first thing on my mind. My man and I had our coffee and breakfast together and he headed out to work in the yard. I took a walk down to Danya’s. I had to talk to a girl. I was overflowing from the night before. My face was blushed and I was silly with excitement for this human. I slipped into Danya’s little house and fell onto a pile of pillows on her floor. She knew.
She put the water onto boil for tea and told me how sweet the two of us looked next to the fire the night before. “I knooooow,” I said. “I wanna go see her now. She’s soooo pretty and magical and electric.”
“I knew it,” she said. “I told you.”
“You were sooo right! How did you know?”
“I just know,” she said with heavy eyes. “Pussy is incredible you know? It’s addicting. Men kill for it. It’s like a temple. You’ll want to worship there.”
“Oh, God, D., I wanna go see her now,” I said hugging the pillows. “But I have to be cool. Shit! How do I be cool?”
“Yeah, nobody likes heavy things,” she said wisely. “Here!” She threw a stack of Goddess Tarot Cards at me and said, “Shuffle these and pick one.”
“I don’t want to,” I said not wanting to jinx anything.
“Do it,” she demanded. “The cards never lie.”
She was the boss. I did as she said and picked the quiet goddess card. She told me to be peaceful and meditative. “Pick another,” she said. I picked the courage goddess, Freyja. Freyja told me to be bold and brave and take the chance. Freya rode on a heavenly chariot pulled by cats. “There you go! That’s the one,” Danya said with a wink and a stir of her tea. “Go ahead and pick one more, you can never pick too many.” I picked the protection goddess. She told me not to worry. She advised me to take a moment to breathe, be silent, and “be cool”. Do what is natural and do not hesitate for the goddesses got my back.
Just then, Danya’s sweet friend Pamela showed up and wanted to go for a swim in the pools. We walked down the path, untied our sarongs and dove in. We practiced a little silence like the first card said and let the cold spring water rejuvenate our nude bodies.
In my silence, I did not notice the ballerina coming down the trails. I looked up and there she was, smiling right in front of me. The look on my face was priceless. I couldn’t hold her gaze; I had to look away. She was with her man and they were heading up to the Queen’s Pool. Danya invited her to come back to join us when she was done. I could barely look at her, when I did she was smiling at me. I was floating on water. Danya flashed me her instigator grin and clued Pamela in on the story so she didn’t feel left out. “How exiting!” she gasped with the prettiest grin. She confessed that she too had a crush on her girlfriend. How lucky I was to be sitting with such classy, sexy, elder ladies who understand and love women so thoroughly?!
I was enjoying our conversation when the ballerina snuck up from behind, sat right up against me, and kissed my cheek. I leaned into her and fell right into the erotic energy left over from the night before. I was in Heaven. Danya and Pamela felt like taking naps so I suggested that we all four take a trip to the “Dragon Tree” in the “Groovy Grass.” I decided to bring a picnic, some polish, some smoke, a blanket and pillows. Who could resist a plan like that? Not the ballerina.
We gathered up our things and headed toward the tall iron wood tree that stands solid like the spine of a good man while her branches curve down as if cradling the earth below. Under her branches, the ladies got comfy for their naps.
You know I wasn’t sleepy. The ballerina wasn’t sleepy either. I untied my sarong and ran out into the bouncy field. I threw myself onto my back feeling like a little girl. She came running after and fell next to my side. Two beautiful nude women under the sun, invisible in the grass. Our bodies connected. My arm under her neck. Her head on my shoulder. Her arm around my waist. Her leg over my legs. She wrapped herself around me and a blast of masculinity shot through my body in a way I had never experienced before. I knew I had a masculine side, but I had never felt it in its entirety until she curled up next to me the way I curl up to my man.
I kissed her head and each one of her fingertips. Whispers of woooow were repeated. Heavy breathing and neck kisses and cheek kisses. Her fingers were so small. The same size of my own. We sat up and looked at each other and talked about how wonderful the night before had been and how perfect the moment felt. We gazed into each other’s eyes and fell back into our grassy nest.
I propped my head up with my hand so that I could get a proper view of her perfect breasts. I could still taste them from the night before. I squeezed her nipples between my thumb and finger and told her how immaculate they were. I placed the tip of my tongue on the tip of her breast and fell into infancy as I sucked her perked dark pink nipple into my mouth. A fantasy, no longer a fantasy.
I opened my mouth and explored her entire breast with my tongue. I started to feel like I was getting lost in my own bliss, so I looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. Is this all okay?”
“Of course,” she said. We both sat up to catch a breeze and to make sure that it was all really happening.
“It’s hot,” I said.
“Well, yeah,” she says. “It’s hot, but…..of course, it’s hot.” We smile at each other and fall back into our grassy nest.
“I want to make love to you,” I said as I kissed her soft belly. She didn’t say anything. “We can take it as slow as you want, but that’s what I want. Maybe not today, maybe in the moonlight, but definitely here,” I said as I rub her down with my hands.
“Well, we’re here now,” she said with her hands covering her eyes. She then lifted her head up to see my face. My stomach flipped.
I brought my face up to meet hers. “I kissed a girl when I was thirteen years old, but I have never kissed a woman.”
“Me either,” she said and kissed my cheek. We leaned in and our lips met very softly. Slowly we pressed our lips together. Mmm. We moaned and released. We leaned in again, this time with open mouths so our tongues could meet. Her mouth felt so tiny.
I reached my hand down to touch her opening with the tip of my finger. She was dripping wet and I was melting. I kissed her and started sliding my finger inside of her soft body. I slipped all the way in and she smiled and covered her eyes. One slick investigating finger and I felt like I was fingering myself. I pulled out and added one. Two fingers. I pulled out and added one. Three fingers. She was soaking wet all over my hand. I was sliding in and out in a fast rhythm that slow danced with her hips. I didn’t want her to come so I pulled out my three fingers and held them up to the sunlight. They glistened. I spread them out to see the juice string from one finger to the other. Clear, slick, fucking gorgeous juice. She reached up to touch them and said, “Wooow, that’s beautiful.” I licked the juice off one of my fingers and had her lick her juice from the other two.
I sat up and began to kiss my way way down the ballerina’s belly. I reached the top of her sex and kissed the tip and took a deep breath of her beautiful scent and rubbed my cheeks against her inner thighs, and ran my nose down her clitoris and barely tasted her juice. Maybe she thought I was nervous so she told me to take my time. I wasn’t nervous at all, but in no way was I going to rush the experience.
She tasted like rose water. She smelled like a girl. I pressed my nose against her clitoris and she responded with pressure asking me to dive in. I ran the width of my tongue up from the base of her pussy to the hood of her clit and around and around. I licked the side of her labia up and down, fast and slow, and in small circles feeling her grow in my mouth. I licked the other side up and down, fast and slow and in little circles feeling her grown even larger. Then I sucked her entire clit into my mouth and did to her what I dream of a woman doing to me.
She tried to sit up to watch. I can understand that, but I wanted her relaxed on her back. So I slipped a finger inside. You know you can’t sit up with that. She fell back and I brought the girl to climax in my mouth. I pulled my mouth back to see her juice. Thicker this time. I opened my mouth so she could see her juice on my tongue. I kissed her deeply and fell into her arms.
She let me give like I wanted to give and held me like I needed to be held. We laid there in amazement and throbs of bliss. Catching our breath for more.
TO BE CONTINUED…
JUNGLE JANE
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ENJOY THIS POST? READ OTHER ARTICLES FROM GUEST BLOGGER JUNGLE JANE:
CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
GETTING HER NUMBER: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
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MEMBERS OF HOTEL BLISS CAN VISIT JUNGLE JANE IN HER HOTEL ROOM BY CLICKING HERE. MAKE SURE TO LET HER KNOW HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY HER WORDS. XOXO BLISS
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FROM GUEST BLOGGER V.:
AND THEN THERE WERE TWO -
A SERIALIZED TRUE STORY OF A GIRL, HER MAN, AND THE LOVER HE INTRODUCED HER TO:
CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER TWO, and CHAPTER THREE - “A LITTLE PATIENCE FOR SPANKING THE INTELLECT”
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FROM GUEST BLOGGER, DAPHNE:
DATING DAPHNE: MY FIRST DATE WITH A SADO-MASOCHIST
PLAYING WITH GENDER: DAPHNE STRAPS IT ON FOR HER MAN
TIE ME UP, TIE ME DOWN: A BI-GIRL SHARES HER FIRST S&M EXPERIENCE
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, GUEST BLOGS, Hotel Bliss Guest Blog, SEX, baby bi-girls, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, dating girls, friends, fun, girls kissing, hand job, jungle jane, kissing, love affairs, lovers, lubrication, meeting girls, oral sex, orgasm, pussy, the first time, undressing girls, virginity, women |
She Danced Into My Fairytale - Part Two - A Baby Bi-Girl Shares Her First Time
Written by Jungle Jane on July 8, 2008 – 9:45 am -Dearest Readers, Jungle Jane returns with Part Two of her first bisexual experience, She Danced Into My Fairytale. Missed Part One? CLICK HERE to catch up. XOXOXOXO BLISS WARRIOR
I woke up leisurely, made a breakfast, and got some work done. I took a long hot shower later in the day. I shampooed twice, used a little extra conditioner, shaved those sexy legs and delicate underarms and sensitive bikini line. I soaped up my body with my olive soap bar, rinsed, and dried. I combed my long hair out straight and tied up a couple strands to keep it out of my face. I lotioned up my body and painted my toes bright pink. I slipped on my skirt and a shirt that matched, but just didn’t quite feel like the right shirt. None of the other shirts seemed any better, so I settled. You know how clothes can be sometimes.
I got to the party a little early. The ballerina was there. Danya showed up with a little number she got at Savers for one of us. It was an evocative blue lingerie top with a fancy fitting zip back and classy sequence lining the seams. She grabbed the ballerina and me by the hand and led us into her office space to try it on and model it for her.
I was not wearing any panties under my skirt and Miss D. yanked my skirt right off my tiny hips! “Try it on, baby!,” she said in a vodka tone of voice with fierce excitement for this top that she just knew would fit us perfectly. The ballerina and I have the same body shape . The shy coldness of the air on my bare ass quickly melted away with warmth as I threw my boring shirt onto the floor. I slipped into the top and the ballerina zipped up the back and admired me from behind while Danya checked me out in the front. This top barely hid my yoni and only half of my ass. Feeling fully exposed, I was a little nervous to look in the mirror. I took a deep breath and turned to check myself out with two adoring women by my side that made me feel like a goddess.
“My turn,” the ballerina said and spun her clothes off in the most gracious of ballerina ways. Her smile is bright white and ear to ear. Her eyes are brown like her curly hair and her skin is golden. I helped her slip into the top and zipped it up making sure to feel her softness. She spins for us. She pirouettes, points her toes, arches and bends and laughs.
She made me feel drunk.
I picked up her silk sarong and had to try on its softness. She saw me and said, “Yes,” and grabbed my skirt and put it on. The skirt was perfect on her. She loved how it felt as on her as much as I enjoyed her silk on me. She grabbed a gold, shimmery piece of fabric and tied it around her chest with a bow over the shoulder. Stunning. She was a model. I put her top on me and we traded clothes for the night. I was now covered in her smell
and the party just started. We flashed smiles at each other from across the room all night. Made sure to touch each other each time we passed while mingling. Finally, when it was proper to get comfortable and listen to the music we took our seats next to each other.
Her fire burned next to mine while we sat next to the flaming bon fire. Encircled by gardenia bushes wrapped in Passion Fruit, the smell in the air was intoxicating. The music played. Our breathing was tantric and our bodies magnets. The energy flowed out of my mouth and into hers. Out of hers and into mine. The circulation stirred the nerves around my navel and began to swirl in my belly. We leaned on each other. Our fingers danced on each other’s skin. We whispered sweet sounds into our ears and necks. I kissed her shoulder. She kissed my cheek. I squeezed her leg. She squeezed my foot. She moaned. This girl is made of nerve endings. She knows how to moan. She looks at me in amazement. She has a charge coming off of her. I thought I felt her body orgasm or something to the equivalent as my body did the same. If there is such a thing as being on the same wavelength, we were.
When the party was ending I asked her to walk me to the drive. I wanted to say goodbye in private. We held hands on our short walk and hugged with our faces buried in our necks. I pull back to see that her top had come down. What can I say, it was loose fitting. Her breasts are perfect.
I had to kiss one of them. I didn’t have to nibble, I suppose, but I did.
Then I kissed her cheek one more time and floated home in her clothes.
TO BE CONTINUED…
XOXOXOX
JUNGLE JANE
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IF YOU ENJOYED JUNGLE JANE’S WORK, YOU MAY ENJOY READING HER OTHER TRUE STORIES:
CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
GETTING HER NUMBER: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
FROM OUR OTHER GUEST BLOGGERS:
V.:
AND THEN THERE WERE TWO - A SERIALIZED TRUE STORY OF A GIRL, HER MAN, AND THE LOVER HE INTRODUCED HER TO.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE - A LITTLE PATIENCE FOR SPANKING THE INTELLECT
DAPHNE:
PLAYING WITH GENDER: DAPHNE STRAPS IT ON FOR HER MAN
TIE ME UP, TIE ME DOWN: A BI-GIRL SHARES HER FIRST S&M EXPERIENCE
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, GUEST BLOGS, baby bi-girls, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, cuddling, jungle jane, kissing, lovers, meeting girls, women |
She Danced Into My Fairytale - Part One - A Baby Bi-Girl Shares Her First Time
Written by Jungle Jane on June 24, 2008 – 8:37 am -
Once upon a Thursday morning I took a walk down the river to Danya’s for some tea and some wise, ferocious loving from my elder sister and, possibly, a tour of Hotel Bliss. She had been anxious to check in and I came equipped with my computer and router so we could set up in front of the waterfalls and have Internet access. Oh, the beauty of the natural mixed with the virtual.
The day was blossoming like the Bella Dona and the morning glory. I walked with a crisp step up the colorful path of fervency. Smells of plumeria and gardenias laced my happy mood . I arrived to the sounds of women laughing. A smile graced my face. They were lounging around the pillow-drenched floor in the half-indoor, half-outdoor kitchen and community space. One of the ladies was a friend of Danya’s I had met only twice briefly. I thought she was gorgeous but very giggly. She spun across the room in a way that made me think that I could not possibly keep up. I had heard the stories of her advanced ballerina and yoga moves, so I admired her beauty, but kept a distance.
I met her again on Wednesday. This time she was sitting still in the lotus position and I seemed to recognize the look in her twinkling eyes. We talked about nothing in particular. I gave her a hug on my way out to be
polite. My politeness, to my surprised, vanished the moment she reached out. As if pushed by a ghost, I pulled her into me tight. “Mmmmm, thank you,” she said as I let her go. Thank you, I thought?
Danya had told me on a couple of different occasions that I had to meet this girl. “I have a feeling about the two of you,” she’d say. I really didn’t pay much attention, but on Wednesday I found out why Danya innately
knew we should meet.
To my delight the poised ballerina decided to join us for tea and my royal design tour. The ladies oohed and ahhhed beside me as I flipped through the pages of Hotel Bliss. They shared stories of their love for women. I
showed them the guest blog and they wanted to hear a sample of what the girls were writing. So I read aloud to them Jungle Jane’s first blog. They loved the story and it brought up childhood memories for both of the
women.
The ballerina shared the story of her first kiss as a child–with a girl. “We were practicing,” she said with huge smile and a shrug of her shoulder. We giggled about the importance we placed on the best friend status.
Miss Danya said, “Wow, Jungle Jane sounds lovely. You should try to meet her.” (Wink, wink.)
The ballerina said, “So if I go on the hotel I could meet her?”
I said, “Well, you can meet her right now. Hello!” I explained to them how the Hotel Bliss site came to be. How it was born out of pure love, teamwork, and a desire for honesty, community, and empowerment.
Miss D and the ballerina had their pretty heads cocked to the side with pretty smiles on their pretty faces while they listened to the story of Hotel Bliss in front of a picturesque waterfall setting. Sparks were flying and the river was flowing.
The ballerina led me back to her dwelling were we laid for the next couple of hours watching the sunset. We talked candidly about bisexuality, desires, and the natural beauty and magic of women. She lay beside me
in her beautiful blouse that just barely hid her perfect nipples and listened. She was so understanding and comfortable. She encouraged meto pray to the universe about the perfect female lover for myself. “Be
specific,” she said, but I never am. I do not have the capability of knowing what specifically is perfect for me. I never would have known to ask the universe for a ballerina that would come and go like a shooting star. The
universe does a much better job picking out the details. The details were finally lying right beside me. I was staring at her details. I know I was. I had to check myself and look away. I didn’t want to seem a like a creepy
dude, but she saw who I was and smiled.
The sun had set on us and it was time to venture home. To my delight, she wanted to walk me home with her headlamp shining the way. Gentle as she is, she didn’t want me to walk home in the dark. So as a thank you,
I introduced her to the groovy grass field. The groovy grass is a deep bouncy flowing field with an ocean view. Running through the grass is like bouncing on clouds. When lying down, you are invisible to the rest of the world. At night the sky is a cosmic theater, a boundless playground of wonder. She lay there next to me in the grass, under the stars and we reached for each other’s arms at the same time and her legs fell over onto me. We didn’t say much; the constellations did most of the talking - whispering the fairytale.
We finally made it back to my yurt. I walked to the middle of the room and reached up with both hand for the trapeze and let my weight drop. She walked right up to me and grabbed the bar too. We hung there face- to-face, chest-to-chest. I put my feet on the ground and twisted the rope above until I could twist it no more. “I feel like a ballerina when I do this,” I said. I lifted my foot to let the rope untwist us into a spin that she can do without the help of a trapeze. When we stopped spinning, I could feel her heart beating against mine. I let go of the bar quickly and began to tidy up the house nervously as a distraction from my pounding chest. I gave her a shy goodbye hug. “Sweet dreams, see you tomorrow.” I went to bed and dreamed about tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED….
- JUNGLE JANE
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IF YOU ENJOYED JUNGLE JANE’S WORK, YOU MAY ENJOY READING HER OTHER TRUE STORIES:
CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
GETTING HER NUMBER: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
FROM OUR OTHER GUEST BLOGGERS:
V.
AND THEN THERE WERE TWO - A SERIALIZED TRUE STORY OF A GIRL, HER MAN, AND THE LOVER HE INTRODUCED HER TO.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE - A LITTLE PATIENCE FOR SPANKING THE INTELLECT
DAPHNE:
PLAYING WITH GENDER: DAPHNE STRAPS IT ON FOR HER MAN
TIE ME UP, TIE ME DOWN: A BI-GIRL SHARES HER FIRST S&M EXPERIENCE
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THANKS TO THE MARVELOUS, MAGICAL GIRLS WHO CAME OUT TO BRUNCH THIS WEEKEND IN HOLLYWOOD. WE COULDN’T HAVE HAD A MORE WONDERFUL AFTERNOON. THANK YOU FOR NOT BEING SHY, BUT FOR COMING OUT AND MEETING OTHER BI-GIRLS! XOXOXOXO
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Posted in GUEST BLOGS, jungle jane |
CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
Written by Jungle Jane on May 8, 2008 – 10:53 am -Tall shoes, short dress, long hair, polished, and glossy.
Fresh from head to toe? No!
It can’t be the same girl with what seemed to be day old dirt
crammed under her nails and outling her cuticles.
Her legs are shaved?! I assumed wrong.
Her hair is so shiny. So unlike the dull dirty brown I saw matted to the sweat on her face.
As cute as she was there dirty with a pick in her hand, I brushed her off as not my type.
Tonight she smelled like the tropical flowers in her garden.
Not like how she smelled while planting those tropical flowers.
Thinking back, how could I have mistaken that sweaty scent for anything less than pure sex?
How could I have missed her natural radiant beauty?
Was I blinded by the sun as I stood so close to the equator?
Does she carry the equator with her between her legs?
She looks like poetry and speaks in stanzas with no rhyme.
Or at least that is how I read her.
I watched her as she walked around her new yard
with an expression on her face like she lost something
when she sees me, her expression changes, relaxes
She says ‘Hi’ to me in a relieved tone of voice.
“There you are”, I say, “I was looking for you.”
She smiles and turns her head slightly
as she slips her hair behind her ear.
A silence passed while we held eye contact.
“I forgot what I wanted,” I said
She gave me a shy smile as her cheeks blushed.
He came up from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her blushed cheek.
She introduced him to me with apologetic eyes.
I shook his hand and studied his face.
I looked at him then at her then back at him.
Trying hard to reserve judgement,
I wondered if those apologetic eyes were for me or for herself.
The girl disappeared for minute to pace around her new yard,
again like she lost something.
The boy and I sat to get to know each other on their porch
I was skeptical, hyper aware of his personal hygiene,
but holding out hope for great redeeming qualities
There had to be something special about this guy.
He had her.
I can say now that she is the special thing about the guy.
And that is about it.
When she comes to my house, she lingers.
I want her to stay and she stays.
Her eyes remind me of Venus.
I wish she didn’t have to go home.
Somewhere inside her, she wishes she didn’t have to either.
Why do women settle? I realize that I do not know the details of my girlfriend’s relationship with her man, but I can feel her sadness. I can see that the spark is there and then it isn’t when he comes around. It makes me want to hold her. I want her to see her own beauty. I want her to be appreciated. Ultimately it is none of my business so I keep my distance.
On the special occasions where we get to sit down and have girl talk over glasses of red wine and loaded bowls, I make sure she knows I’m here for her if she needs a friend. My hand is out to her and she can hold it whenever she wants.
XOXOOXOX
Jungle Jane
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IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BLOG, YOU MAY ENJOY READING JUNGLE JANE’S EARLIER POSTS:
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
GETTING HER NUMBER - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
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HOTEL BLISS TESTERS! WE ARE PROUD TO ANNOUNCE THE LAUNCH OF OUR NEW WEEKLY NEWSLETTER COMING OUT TOMORROW. THE HOTEL BLISS NEWSLETTER WILL FEATURE THE BEST BLOGS, NOTEWORTHY BULLETINS, HOT PICTURES, AND UPDATED FEATURES TO MAKE IT EASIER FOR YOU TO MEET THAT GIRL YOU’VE BEEN DREAMING OF AND FIND NEW FRIENDS FASTER. IF YOU DO NOT RECEIVE A NEWSLETTER BY TOMORROW NIGHT, YOU MIGHT WANT TO CHECK YOUR SPAM OR JUNK MAIL FOLDER TO SEE IF IT WAS INCORRECTLY SENT THERE.
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SHALL WE PLAY A GAME? READY FOR HOTEL BLISS’ FIRST SLUMBER PARTY GAME? IT STARTS THIS MONDAY, MAY 12TH, SO IF YOU WANT TO GET IN ON THE FUN, MAKE SURE TO E-MAIL ME THE ANSWER TO QUESTION NUMBER ONE, “WHAT IS THE NAUGHTIEST THING YOU’VE EVER DONE” AS SOON AS YOU CAN. WE ALREADY HAVE OVER 20 GIRLS IN ON THE GAME, SO DON’T MISS OUT ON YOUR CHANCE TO MEET NEW FRIENDS. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE ABOUT IT.
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, GUEST BLOGS, RELATIONSHIPS, baby bi-girls, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, boyfriends, flirting, jungle jane, kindness, neighbors |
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
Written by Jungle Jane on April 2, 2008 – 6:19 am -As I contemplated writing this blog on masturbation in the laundry mat, a large group of young adult church campers came crashing in. More girls than boys. A couple of the girlies looked like they may have been outgrowing their camp. 
One in particular had a dyed pink patch in the back of her curly, bleach bobbed hairdo, a pierced lip and nose, skinny jeans, and a quote tattooed across the bottom of the outside of her foot. I couldn’t make out what it said, but I used my imagination. She took the washer next to mine and I couldn’t help but notice the dirty pink, lacy g-strings she had to wash. I tried hard not to think blasphemous thoughts. I tried hard to think about writing. Oh, the mental tug-of-war! How could I stay focused when she had an entire collection of pretty, lacy g-strings?
I had to sit down, but the pierced pink patch came to sit right next to me! She picked up her tatted notebook and proceeded to study her notes. I peeked at her page hoping to see something sacrilegious, but I only saw the gospel. I looked back at my blank page half expecting some sort of guilt trip to talk me out of writing about the pent-up innocence that sat right next to me, but nothing. Just the warmth of the dryers and the hum of their vibrations reminding me of the subject at hand: masturbation.
Dear God, I hope this girl masturbates.
I was 22 before I learned about the joys of a solo orgasm. I lived in Los Angeles and worked across the street from the Penthouse store on Sunset. I was newly single and had no interest in finding new love. I wanted to focus on myself and was still in love with my ex-now-current boyfriend. It was hard to go from sex every day to nothing at all. I tried one night stands, which were sometimes a blast, but overall not worth it. My body was nagging, insatiably. If only I had read Between Boyfriends, Date Girls back then!
So one night after work, I visited the sex toy store. Low and behold they were having a 75% off sale!!! I purchased a large box that was originally a hundred dollars. The box was your typical sex kit with the oils and massage gloves and chintzy crap for the most part, but something drew me to the vibrating silver bullet in the box. Something about it appealed to me over the fancier dildos. It was fate.
I took that box home to my apartment on Venice Beach boardwalk. The place had a gigantic living room with a fireplace, a wall of sliding glass doors and a balcony facing the ocean. My roommates were gone, so I locked all the doors, put music on low, poured a glass of wine, lit the fireplace and slid open the glass so the sea breeze and the sounds of the boardwalk could drift in. I laid a blanket down in front of the fireplace, lit my smoke, and sat with my new box of toys.
I looked at each trinket and considered its usage, envisioning scenarios. I made my way to the bullet and disinfected its silver surface, put in fresh batteries, took off my clothes, got comfortable on my back with my knees up, a pillow under my head and legs and a light blanket over my belly - thinking I may get chilly. I took the control in one hand and reached down with the shiny silver bullet in the other. I turned the vibration on low and held the wire to let the weight float on my clitoris. The toy seemed to have a mind of its own and landed on a particularly sensitive spot. Low was nice, but medium was better. I became wetter and warmer quick. No need for the blanket! I wanted to take it up to max right away, but thought I would take it slow to let my mind wander.
I felt like a little boy discovering his newly hardened penis. I had not fully discovered the nuances of my vagina until that night. I did not know that my right side is more sensitive than the left. I did not know what an orgasm felt like all by itself, without a partner to share it with. I hadn’t had a need in the past to masturbate, or so I thought. I was wrong! Masturbation is key to understanding our sexual organs and our deepest desires. I unlocked a closet in my mind full of dirty stories and fantasies and images and memories that I had stored away and lost touch with. My hidden desires for women came rushing into my mind’s pornographic imagination mixed with memories of heavy love making and hard core fucking. I am at my best when I take away my thought boundaries and dive into the tabboo.
I felt and watched as my folds filled up and pushed against the vibrations. I slid the control to full blast while my hand pushed the vibrations against the build. Full blast is where it’s at for me. My ears began to ring and I saw white. For the first time in my life ladies, I ejaculated. I ’squirted’ all over myself. It made my eyes water and my heart beat like I ran a marathon and I was sweating and I was smiling and I was hooked!
I mean hooked. I discovered six things that night:
- I love the vibration.
- I can get off whenever the hell I feel like it!
- I can ejaculate. It’s not a myth!
- I can hide the desires, but they don’t go away.
- The imagination is a terrible thing to waste.
- Give yourself permission to be perverted while masturbating and see where it takes you!!
You just might make some discoveries of your own!
Tune in next time when I attempt to make some of my fantasies reality and soon realize that some fantasies are best kept where they are….blissful in my imagination.
Jungle Jane
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If you enjoyed this blog, you may also enjoy reading Jungle Jane’s first two blogs:
GETTING HER NUMBER - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
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THE FIRST BLISS BRUNCH FOR BI-GIRLS AND THEIR PARTNERS
Saturday, April 19 at 3pm in West Hollywood.
We already have 16 bi-girls coming to the brunch and 10 are bringing their partners.
This will be a great opportunity to meet other bi and bi-friendly folks for conversation, fun & friendship.
Interested in joining us?
E-mail me at bliss@blisswarrior.com or RSVP to Cammie on my Top Friends on myspace.
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, GUEST BLOGS, SEX, Uncategorized, baby bi-girls, ejaculation, jungle jane, masturbate, masturbation, one night stand, pussy, sex toys, vibrator, vibrators |
GETTING HER NUMBER – A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
Written by Jungle Jane on March 12, 2008 – 7:00 am -Darling Bliss Warriors, Our featured guest blogger, Jungle Jane, returns, sharing the true story of a baby bi-girl’s search for the perfect girl. Enjoy! XOXOXOXO BW
My favorite coffee/wine bar has the cutest barista named Violet. I’ve been several times and she’s always my server.
One night I visited the shop with three of my guy friends and, like always, Violet was our barista. She was wearing a black mini-skirt, black and white striped Alice in Wonderland socks, low-top black Chucks, librarian glasses, and a tight Led Zeppelin t-shirt that clung to her all natural, perfectly large breasts. Goodness, she was charming, vintage, and such fine service.
Our table of boys was slobbering and so was I. “Should I get her number,” I asked David.
“What are you my agent?” he snapped at me.
“Not for you, for me!” That was how I came out to my friend.
He looked at me with bug eyes and a surprised smile. “No, really? You wouldn’t, you couldn’t…”
“Watch me,” I said.
Violet came back to our table and I ordered a hot toddy, looking right into her eyes. The boys stumbled over their words as they tried desperately to hit on her.
“You’re into soccer,” David found out a piece of information about Violet. They’re all soccer players and immediately tried to convince her to join their team. She sweetly declined.
She came around my side of the table to ask how I liked my drink. “It’s good, huh,” she asked with prettiest smile.
“Very,” I said.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said.
“It’s made with Black Bush liquor. How could I not,” I asked flirtatiously.
She smiled big, flashing me her pearly whites. “Exactly. How could you not,” she said with a blush.
“You should come to the party on Friday,” I said.
“Yeah! The whole soccer crew will be there,” the boys jumped in.
“I tell you what. I’ll come if she calls to invite me.” She looked at me and asked, “Can I give you my number?”
“Please do,” I said, feeling all smooth in front of the sloppy boys. She smiled as she wrote her number on her pad and ripped it off and handed it to me. We watched her walk away to continue to do an amazing job serving her customers.
The boys turned and looked at me in amazement! It was just too easy.
I did call her. She didn’t answer so I left a message. She didn’t call till the next day to apologize about whatever came up. I thought it was nice that she called to explain - she could’ve completely flaked.
I didn’t see her after that until last weekend. My man and I brought our friend from out of town to her bar. Violet saw me walking up, waved, smiled her big, beautiful grin, and said, “Hey, Jane!” What a nice way to start a night, right?
After a bottle of wine and laughing till the bar closed, I invited her back to the studio where we were taking the party. She really wanted to, but it was the end of a long shift and she was tired. We all gave it a valiant effort to change her mind - sometimes girls need to be convinced. But it didn’t work.
She called me the next day and we had a nice long conversation. She invited me to an art show with live music. Finally, she asked me about my relationship with my man. I mentioned my bisexuality and the conversation quickly ended. She told me she would call with the details of the show, but I never got the phone call. I called her just to check in, but no answer, and no return.
I could’ve read it all wrong or she could’ve been into it, but afraid of it or she may just be a flaky chick. Whatever the reason, it was slightly disappointing, but the flirting was still fun. Good practice!
Until the Next Time,
Jungle Jane
P.S. Thank you to all the lovely ladies who commented on my first blog.
It’s fun to share this journey with such a foxy audience.
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If you missed Jungle Jane’s first post, click here to read: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY.
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If you enjoyed reading this blog, you may also enjoy:
MISS BLISS, FIND ME A BI-GIRL
ADVICE FOR BABY BI-GIRLS: FINDING A FEMALE LOVER
ASK MISS BLISS: THE ART OF FLIRTATION
WHEN YOUR STRAIGHT FRIENDS FIND OUT
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NEXT WEEK:
BLISS WARRIOR IS PROUD TO ANNOUNCE A NEW GUEST BLOGGER IS JOINING THE PARTY. DAPHNE, A NEW YORK BI-GIRL, SHARES THE FIRST TIME A LOVER TIED HER UP AND SHOWED HER THE JOYS OF LIGHT BDSM. INTERESTED IN A LITTLE ROPE PLAY WITH YOUR PARTNER? YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS THIS BLOG.
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Are you a bi-girl with a story to share? E-mail me at bliss@blisswarrior.com.
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, baby bi-girls, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, flirting, jungle jane, meeting girls |
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
Written by Jungle Jane on February 13, 2008 – 3:57 pm -DEAREST READERS,
I AM PROUD TO PUBLISH THE FIRST BLOG BY A GUEST BLOGGER, JUNGLE JANE. SHE IS A BABY BI-GIRL AND READY TO SHARE HER JOURNEY WITH YOU. I HOPE YOU ENJOY.
XOXOXOOXXO
BLISS WARRIOR
I’m writing this blog for those bisexual readers that have yet to make love to a woman, but dream of the day. I’ve noticed there are quite a few of us baby bi-girls reading Bliss Warrior that are new in figuring out our complex sexualities. If you are anything like me, you are thoroughly enjoying the learning curve. Especially those sharp turns like becoming the bi-girl you want to meet. Meet being the key word.
Maybe, like myself, you are in love with a man that supports your courageous decision to live life openly. I am enjoying this new freeness and openness with my man. It has brought our relationship to a new level of intensity and desire. I fully enjoy admiring women with him and sharing our fantasies. Honesty is extremely sexy. It turns me on like crazy.
Maybe you’re single and looking for that lover wherever the universe is leading you to finding her or him or both. There is no one type of bi-girl. Wherever you’re at in life, your bisexuality should be exciting and empowering and radiate off of your soft glowing skin at home and in public. I am radiating myself and feel compelled to share this journey with all you dynamic bliss warriors.
I have the BW blog to thank for my coming out. I do not mind a bit telling my friends the truth anymore. It’s like my new magic power. I say things that make both sexes blush and come out of their shells. I was never a big fan of small talk!
I will use this blog to give you a little background in growing up loving girls, because that’s always fun and insightful. Talking and hearing about our childhood girlfriends is sweet and reminds us all of how innocent and pure love really is.
I believe if I ever were such a thing as bi-curious it started at a very young age and I grew into bisexuality. I think adding the word curious to the title is unnecessary. We are all inherently curious. I believe even the straight girls are bi “curious”. That’s just me, feel free to disagree. I may not have ever “been” with a girl sexually, but I know that I’m attracted to women and always will be. When I speak about my bi virginity, I am speaking about it from the adult perspective. I had plenty of action as a young girl, but none as an adult.
I will write about the now: the flirting, the fantasies, and the realities (which can sometimes be irritating). I’ll let you in on all the details of my pursuit of losing my bisexual virginity! I’ll be blogging about my search for a lover that fits like a puzzle piece. A lover that will be as comfortable with me and my man as he and I are together. A girl that wants me to write to her, about her. So that she can have it to read over and over whenever she needs to hear it. A girl that gives back and doesn’t shy away from the truth no matter what it may be.
I want sexy in whatever form it takes! Sexiness comes when you OWN IT! I look for girls who don’t really give care about what you may or may not be thinking about them. They’re simply hot and they know it. I love clever, charming, funny women that laugh loud and often. I love women who love women. That’s why I want to share in the BW community because you all know what I’m talking about. Can I get an amen?
…………………………
It must have all started when I was five. Sounds about right. Her last name was Ham. She used to chase me around the sitter’s house trying to “teach me how to french kiss”. I let her a few times. Gave her some freebies, but she wasn’t my type. She pissed me off mostly. She may have been my first kiss, but I can’t really remember. I do know that I got a lot of action when I was five.
My best friend was Emily. I never kissed her. She was my innocent, fragile friend that I handled with care. She was very churchy. Even more so than I was at that age which was tough to be. Jesus was my boy! Emily was my girl, but I played too rough for her. We had some fun times, but third grade came along and changed it all. We started at the elementary school across town: new playground, new places to hide and seek, new teachers, and new best friends.
That was when Leah came into my life.
Leah had a best friend, too, named Deedee. Deedee and Leah kicked it like Emily and I. They had a bond, an agreement and were “best friends”. Being “best friends” at that age meant something — something sacred.
Shortly after meeting, Leah and I started passing notes, telling secrets, talking on the phone, walking to each other’s house after school, and walking to school together. And, we knew what it meant. It meant that Leah and I had become best friends. In order to carry on properly, it was only fair for us to tell Emily and Deedee what was going on. We talked about it, planned it out, wrote our notes, and handed them off to our soon to be ex-best friends.
It was on! She lived a couple blocks from me. We were crazy bike riders and spent days and nights together. Doing homework, fighting with her brother and his friends, playing nintendo, and feeling up our bodies and all the changes they were going through as the years went by. We called our new pubic hair, peach fuzz. We called our new boobies, mosquito bites. Those mosquito bites seem to grow overnight in the puberty years. We would give each other massages as a way to touch each other’s new breasts. I’ll never forget it and it still turns me on.
Once upon a time, on Leah’s mother’s bed, Leah and I exchanged massages. Leah got the first massage. I put lotion all over her back and started rubbing out two circles over her shoulder blades while my thumbs slipped up her spine. Admiring her body and melting in my panties, my face was red and she was smiling. I started moving my hand under her arms. Inching my way towards her little breasts, not believing that I was actually going for it — and, unexpectedly, she cut me off.
“Your turn!” she said. I wasn’t really done, but I knew she wasn’t ending it so I smiled big and flopped down in front of her. On my stomach still, because we were “giving massages”, she squirted the lotion all over my back and began to rub me down. She glided her lotion soaked hands right under my arms. She got me nice and slippery and then slipped her hands further down and over my nipples as I rose up off the bed to give her room. She massaged my breasts and squeezed my nipples. She brought her hands back up to my back and asked me how it felt. I said, “It tickled,” and she reached down immediately to grab them again. I lifted up again and my ass pushed into her lap and I could feel her warmth from behind. Mmmmm… Leah was in control, making my shy self incredibly comfortable.
Our relationship was rocky though because she had another friend that she spent a lot of time with. I was so jealous of that girl. The last time she and I hooked up came in 7th grade at the movie theater. Leah and I had joked about having a real date. Going to the movies…together…as a couple. I think we even told our mothers that was what we were doing, but they just thought we were being silly like usual. But no. We sat in the back, held hands, rubbed each others arms, until we couldn’t hold it anymore and we turned to each other and kissed. Stopped, looked at each other, then french kissed like mad. Grabbing each other’s hair, breasts, face. We were both a little advanced in our kissing and making out. Then she startled me. She got out of her seat and crouched down in front of me and spread my legs apart and unzipped my jeans and ran her hands down my chest and into my unzipped jeans and then……….I freaked a little. I think it was the reality of being in a theater that did it for me. I wanted her so bad, but I chickened out. I made her stop. She said she understood and we finished out the movie holding hands both unsatisfied. I think it pissed her off a little. We were never the same. That was my last experience with a girl sadly enough. I’ve had plenty of crushes, but never any action.
I think these type of experiences mean something. A LOT of little girls have these type of experiences.
Have you had similar experiences?
Do you feel those experiences were your first bisexual ones?
I remember it all as the beginning. I feel that sex with a woman does not make you bisexual, the desire to be with a woman does.
Until the next time, I will still be searching for the girl who is the one.
xoxoxox
JUNGLE JANE
Posted in BISEXUALITY, GUEST BLOGS, RELATIONSHIPS, SEX, baby bi-girls, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, coming out, jungle jane, kissing, massage, meeting girls, the first time, undressing girls |