WHAT SHE FORGOT - ANOTHER FRIDAY NIGHT BEDTIME STORY
Written by Miss Bliss on September 14, 2008 – 12:36 pm -A little erotica to help you sleep more soundly…
“Hey, girl, sit at the bar and I’ll be right over,” she says as she carries a tray of drinks to a booth in the back. You watch her hips switch back and forth as she walks away and am once again overwhelmed by her casual beauty.
At the bar, you pull up a stool and wonder if you overdressed. Maybe you should have worn jeans; it seems a little silly to be hanging with a girl in her workplace in a tight black dress and platform heels. But you wouldn’t feel pretty in jeans and, to be honest, it’s already a fight to feel secure next to her perfect dancer’s body. Plus, you haven’t seen her since that night you first kissed and then went home together.
You worried hooking up with a girl had flipped her out, but just when you were going to ask her, she called and invited you here. To be in her company again thrilled you, so you ignored the quiet voice in your head that said, “If she liked you, she’d have seen you right away. She wouldn’t wait a month to call if she was as into it as you are. Inviting you to see her at work is a way to create distance…”
You shake your head and order a vodka and soda and wait for her return.
The bartender asks how you know Sabine. You say, through mutual friends in New York. “I love New York,” he says, and you nod with a smile, hoping he doesn’t ask anymore questions. Luckily, he likes talking more than listening, and fills up the time describing his favorite New York restaurants.
When Sabine finally finishes with her table and joins you, the first thing you say is, “I was just telling him about how we met in New York.”
For a second she lifts an eyebrow and then smiles. “Those were great times,” which almost sounds true. It would be too awkward to say we met in a gay bar. The friendship would certainly be suspect, then.
She sits on the stool next to you and says, “How have you been?”
Aware of the bartender, you say, “Great. How about you?”
“Well, I met a boy…”
Your heart stops but you try to appear happy for her. “That’s great. Where?”
“I went to a club with some friends and this guy asked me to dance, and he is a fierce dancer. We danced all night and the crowd stopped just to watch us.” She smiles and says, “And the sex… Oh my God! He is unreal. Sometimes, he’s almost too much for me.”
Hearing about her fucking some dancer makes your jaw tighten. Doesn’t she know who she’s talking to? Doesn’t she have some inclination that you may not want to hear about her current guy? “When did you meet him,” you ask, trying to sound casual.
“I don’t know… A month or so ago?” Right around the time the two of you hooked up.
Feeling bitter, you want to ask if it was before or after the night she soaked your bed with her juices, but you don’t. Instead, you ask, “So is he your boyfriend?”
She laughs. “Oh, goodness, no! He’s just my summer distraction.” Looking up, she sees a new table and says she’ll be back in a sec.
You order a second drink and your stomach aches. Did she forget how intense the sex had been between you? Because you remember, and one night dancing with some guy wouldn’t make you forget.
*********
Closing your eyes, you go back in time and see see her approach you at the bar in West Hollywood. You couldn’t believe a hot girl was coming onto you in your favorite gay bar. Surrounded by men, she discovered you and bought you a drink.
“Come here often,” she said jokingly.
“No. But now that I know gorgeous girls come here every once in awhile, I might just come out more often.”
“Cute shoes,” she squealed, and the two of you spent the next ten minutes complementing one another. “Oh, look, a booth is opening up. Let’s sit.” She grabbed your hand and led you through the dancing male bodies until you reached a darkly lit booth.
*********
Sabine comes back to the bar and places an order for her newest customers. Leaning into your ear, she whispers, “He just texted me to say he might be stopping by. You’ll get to meet him!”
You are beginning to wonder if her sharp features and sparkling emerald eyes have distracted you from the fact that she is totally insane. “When is he coming?” This time your voice is hard and you don’t try to hide it.
“Right now. He says you’re welcome to go out dancing with us when I get off.”
“That’s generous of him,” you say sarcastically.
She looks at you with concern. “He’s a really nice guy. You’re going to love him.”
“I didn’t come her tonight to meet your boyfriend,” you say, hoping the bartender doens’t overhear.
“What,” she asks.
“Never mind,” you say.
The bartender brings her table’s drinks and she places them on a tray and is off again.
*********
In the back corner of the gay bar, she picked up your hand and exclaimed, “Oh, your hands are so pretty and tiny!” Her fingers traced yours, turned your rings to face out properly, and then finally lifted your hand to her lips. Slowly, she kissed the back of your hand, then turned it over and placed a long kiss on the palm. You felt her touch all the way down to your toes.
With your other hand, you touched her lips and then leaned in and kissed her. Tasting like candy and fresh water, you breathe her in and let your tongue dance with hers.
“I think we should get out of here,” she said.
“Want to have a drink at my place,” you asked, amazed that this sensuous creature appeared out of nowhere to love you. She picks up her bag and the two of you walk out to the parking lot hand-in-hand.
********
“I think I should go,” you say when she returns.
“Why? Don’t go! You just got here.”
She doesn’t seem to understand why you don’t want to meet this guy. Was she drunk the night you hooked up? On drugs? It would be impossible to know. After all, you were strangers when you met. You really know nothing about her.
Finishing the second drink quickly, you feel the alcohol burning through you. Since you are petite and didn’t eat dinner, the alcohol is unusually strong. “You know why I don’t want to meet him,” you say with a force that surprises you.
Her smile leaves her lips for a moment and you see her debating with herself. She sits next to you once more and grabs one of your hands. “I don’t think there has to be any drama.”
You don’t know what that means and tell her so.
“I want to be your friend,” she says.
“I want to be your friend, too,” and you do.
“So I want you to meet the people in my life.”
“Why,” you ask, finally drunk enough to have no filter.
“Because you’re amazing,” she says lamely. But you have figured out the truth between the words she is saying. Instead of facing the intensity of your love, she wants to bury the memory of that night. She needs you to meet her boy “distraction” in order to reconfirm her heterosexuality. If you are friends, she doesn’t have to question why that night happened or what it means.
*******
She was the one who asked you to get the strap-on out. She demanded you fuck her until she came and you did. She put it on and fucked you directly after. She was the aggressor. She knew exactly what she wanted and made it happen. She chose to sit on your face until your tongue, lips, chin and nose hit all of her secret spots and made her gush sweetness all over your face, neck and chest. She was the one who held you so close while you slept that you couldn’t excise yourself to go to the bathroom. And, she was the one who woke you with the light flicker of her tongue on your inner thigh.
When she left, you believed she was a lesbian.
When she left, she pushed the delete button and hid behind a straight identity.
When she left, you thought she’d come back.
*******
You stand up and leave a twenty on the bar for the drinks. “I’ll meet him next time.”
“If he’s still around,” she says with a laugh.
You look directly into her eyes and smile goodbye, then walk out the doors into the night.
XOXOXOXO
BLISS WARRIOR
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IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BLOG, YOU MAY ENJOY OTHER EROTICA BY BLISS WARRIOR:
SPIN THE BOTTLE PART ONE, PART TWO, AND PART THREE
FOLLOW MY RULES PART ONE AND PART TWO
CAPTIVATING THE COLLEGE GIRL PART ONE, PART TWO, AND PART THREE
TOUCHING UNDER THE TABLE
WAKE ME UP WITH YOUR TONGUE
YOU MADE MY BRAIN COME
LEARNING TO LOVE STRAP-ONS
ONE FRENCH AFTERNOON
WALKING HOME IN HER PANTIES
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UPCOMING EVENTS FOR BI-GIRLS THIS WEEKEND:
- Friday, 12 September 2008
DENVER - HAPPY HOUR FOR BI/BI-CURIOUS LADIES ONLY
VIEW EVENT - Friday, 12 September 2008
HOLLYWOOD - BURLESQUE SHOW THAT SUPPORTS PETA
VIEW EVENT - Saturday, 13 September 2008
SAN FRANCISCO - FRINGE FESTIVAL PRESENTS FLUID: A PERSONAL EXPLORATION OF “BI” SEXUALITY
VIEW EVENT - Sunday, 14 September 2008
NYC BACKYARD GARDEN BRUNCH
VIEW EVENT
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, EROTIC FICTION, FRIDAY NIGHT BEDTIME STORIES, IDENTITY, RELATIONSHIPS, SEX, Uncategorized, bi-girls, bisexual, boyfriends, dating girls, ejaculation, flirting, friends, girls kissing, heterosexual, jealousy, kissing, lesbian, love affairs, lovers, meeting girls, sex toys, strap-on dildos |
CAPTIVATING THE COLLEGE GIRL – PART III
Written by Miss Bliss on April 11, 2008 – 11:14 am -Dearest Readers,
This is the final part of a three-part story. If you missed the Part I of Captivating the College Girl, click here. If you missed Part II, click here to catch up. XOXOXO BW
CAPTIVATING THE COLLEGE GIRL – PART III
ANOTHER FRIDAY NIGHT BEDTIME STORY FROM BLISS WARRIOR
A crack of light through the handmade satin curtains slowly brings you out of sleep. For a moment your head is foggy with a slight hangover from the night before. The two of you are sleeping on your side, one nestled in the other, and her arms are wrapped tightly around you. Flashes of the night before come back to you slowly: the spontaneous way you asked her out to tea, the kiss on the roof, the marvelous way her clothes slipped off her body, the orgasms… You cannot believe you found her and you pull her arms tighter around you.
This movement stirs her from sleep. At first she holds you tighter but suddenly she drops her arms and pulls away, as if someone caught the two of you together. You turn over to face her and she turns her back to you. Pulling her into you, you cuddle with her again but you can sense she is nervous. The morning light is making everything too real, too scary, too confusing.
Moving her shiny hair over her shoulder, you kiss her exposed neck lightly. “How did you sleep,” you ask.
“Like the dead,” she says.
“How do you feel?”
“Good,” she says too fast. The librarian is back and is trying to make her forget how much power she has when the gypsy is in control. “We really drank a lot.”
She will not blame last night on being drunk, you think to yourself. It was too intense and wonderful for her to write it off as a drunken escapade. “We didn’t drink that much.”
“Maybe you didn’t, but I was trashed.”
“You were perfect.”
Her body stiffens and becomes colder. “I gotta get going. I have a lot to do today….”
“It’s Friday. You don’t have class today.”
“No, but I have a paper due on Monday. I should get that started.”
“Right now?” You almost laugh, but don’t. This is a crucial moment and you both feel it. A part of you intuitively knows that if she leaves the two of you will never be together again. She will go back to her straight life, tell one of her friends about the night and her friend will say, “Don’t worry about it, you were drunk.” She’ll agree and let the alcohol fade the memory of how wonderfully she pleased another girl and soon she will blame you for seducing her. Afraid of you, she will avoid contact until you stop trying to make it.
Unless something else happens.
She sits up and is about to get out of bed when you say, “I can’t let you leave just yet.”
She laughs nervously. “I really have a lot to do.”
“You’ll have plenty of time for studying today, don’t worry. I’m only going to delay you fifteen minutes top.” Looking down at her hands, you see her confusion. She is annoyed you aren’t letting her slip out into the morning sun but a part of you doesn’t care. You’ve fallen in love with the gypsy side of this girl and you won’t let her deny that part of herself anymore. “I want you to lie on your back.”
“I really can’t…” she says but her voice is unsure.
“Lie on your back,” you instruct. For a second, you feel like a man, tired of trying to convince the girl of something you know she wants but feels shame for wanting it. “I won’t let you leave until you do.”
Her eyes flash angrily for just a second, but this makes you smile. Only the gypsy has the passion to throw a look that dark at you. Your girl is coming back to you.
“Lie down.” Something in the tone of your voice makes her acquiesce. She lies back slowly to let you know she does not want to but feels forced to. “Close your eyes.”
Still naked from the night before, you study her marvelous body under the soft morning rays of light. Her breasts are full and her nipples deliciously hard. She may tell you she wants to leave, but her body tells you otherwise. “Spread your legs,” you command and she does. You’ve never been so dominant with a lover and you discover that each time you command her to do something a special vibration pulses through your clit.
Her eyes are closed and her legs are spread and you step off the bed to look at her. The fingers of her right hand are tapping lightly on the bed – she is anxious, but she’s still here.
“Do you know how perfect you are,” you ask her, and she shakes her head no. You walk leisurely around the bed until you are close to her face. Leaning down, you kiss her. You tell her she can leave in ten short minutes. Picking up her left hand, you gingerly move it so it covers her eyes. You do the same with the right. “Stay just like that.”
Climbing onto the bed with her, you make sure she doesn’t move her hands or try to peek. “Move your legs further apart.” She does. Kneeling between her legs, you stretch your right hand to her lips and place three fingers into her mouth. She sucks them lightly and you tell her to make them wet. Licking them more fervently, you tell her what a good girl she is and take your fingers out of her mouth.
Without teasing her or prepping her, you push two fingers into her roughly. She moans. Moving your fingers in small circles at her opening and wider circles deeper within, you start opening her up, creating space for the third finger.
She is wetter than you expected. Obviously, she enjoyed being told what to do.
Your left thumb finds her clit and puts pressure on it as you push and pull and explore. She moans – almost a sob – and you smile. Her hips are moving on their own now, asking you for more, showing you what she wants with each lift and descent. You pull your two fingers out and with a third added, penetrate her again. Her moan is swift in response and louder. “Yes,” is the only word she says and it makes you smile.
Her clit grows bigger under your thumb as the walls of her open up and expand. As her insides grow in warmth, wetness, and desire you are amazed by the magical inner workings of girls. Does your pussy create so much space for a lover’s touch?
Your movements are speeding up with the hungry passion of her body. Dripping wet you know she is getting close. Her head still covered in her hands is moving from side to side as if she will explode soon and wants to make sure she will keep her head on – at least for a few moments more. “Are you getting close,” you ask with a quiet, commanding voice.
She nods.
“Say it.”
“I’m close,” she whispers.
“Do you want to come?”
“Make me come,” she says.
“Tell me you loved it last night.”
She pauses.
“Tell me you loved fucking a girl or I won’t let you come.”
“I loved it.”
“You love pussy. Say it to me.” Your hands are moving at a frenetic speed now, stirring her clit to madness while fucking her deeper and deeper with your right hand.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” With your hands still moving, you lean down and whisper near her ear. “You loved eating my pussy. Say it.”
“I loved eating your pussy,” she says in a whisper.
“You love girls.”
“I love girls.”
“You love sex with girls.”
“I do.”
“Say it, or you won’t come.” She is covered in sweat and panting. Your fingers stop moving on her clit to let her know it is all up to her. She tries to push her hips into your fingers to get the pressure she needs to be relieved of this tension, but you don’t let her. “Say it.”
“I love sex with girls!” With a scream, you start touching her harder, faster, deeper. She opens up and liquid starts pouring from her. She is ejaculating, covering your bed in her sweet juice. Panting, screaming, moaning, she is coming like she never has before. “Fuck me,” she cries. “Don’t stop.”
And you don’t, until she moans her last moan and pulls your hand away.
“You’ve soaked the bed.”
“I have?” She is shocked when she sees the puddle of liquid beneath her. “I didn’t know I could do that…”
“I guess you’ve been dating the wrong guys.”
“I guess I have,” she says with a smile. The gypsy pulls me up to her face and we kiss deeply.
“You should get going if you want to get started on your paper,” you say, teasing.
She looks at you with a cocked eyebrow and an embarrassed smile. “I think that can wait till later. Want to get breakfast?”
Holding her hand, you lead your gypsy girl to the shower.
XOXOXOXOXXO
BLISS WARRIOR
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IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BLOG, YOU MAY ENJOY OTHER EROTIC FICTION BY BLISS WARRIOR:
TOUCHING UNDER THE TABLE
WAKE ME UP WITH YOUR TONGUE
YOU MADE MY BRAIN COME
LEARNING TO LOVE STRAP-ONS
ONE FRENCH AFTERNOON
WALKING HOME IN HER PANTIES
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DEAREST BLISS WARRIORS –
THIS WEEK HAS BEEN FULL OF TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.
MY MAILING LIST RECEIVED TWO BLOGS THAT WERE NOT FINISHED
AND NOT READY TO BE PUBLISHED. THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT AND I APOLOGIZE. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THEM, PLEASE DELETE THEM. IF YOU DID READ THEM, PLEASE ACCEPT MY APOLOGIES AND TRY TO ERASE THEM FROM YOUR MEMORY. THE FINISHED BLOGS WILL BE POSTED NEXT WEEK. XOXOXOXXO BW
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Posted in BISEXUALITY, EROTIC FICTION, FRIDAY NIGHT BEDTIME STORIES, RELATIONSHIPS, SEX, bi-girls, bisexual, bisexual girls, coming out, dating girls, ejaculation, girls kissing, hand job, kissing, lovers, lubrication, one night stand, orgasm, pussy, the first time |
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 |