MY BEST SEX EVER WAS… with an­other woman

Alex’s* work party ended up tak­ing a very un­ex­pected turn…

Cosmopolitan (UK) - - Contents -

I’d al­ways got on with Clare.* When­ever I was booked to work in her of­fice as a free­lancer, I’d sit di­ag­o­nally op­po­site her and we’d catch each other’s eye ev­ery time we shared a joke. I thought she was ab­so­lutely beau­ti­ful. She had a real gothic beauty and was tall and curvy, with black shoul­der-length hair and smoky eye make-up. I’d al­ways con­sid­ered my­self straight, and had only ever been with men be­fore, but there was just some­thing about her. Of­ten, and quite in­ex­pli­ca­bly, I’d find my­self fan­ta­sis­ing about kiss­ing her. I knew she was ca­su­ally dat­ing a cou­ple of guys, so fig­ured it would stay at just that: a fan­tasy.

One evening, how­ever, the com­pany threw a big ‘Aren’t we do­ing well?’ back-pat­ting cel­e­bra­tion party at a posh lo­cal venue. Clare and I went to­gether, walk­ing arm-in-arm, swig­ging gin out of the hip flask she car­ried in her clutch bag. We spent all night laugh­ing, dancing and, yes, flirt­ing. She con­stantly found ex­cuses to touch me, whether it was rub­bing away smudged lip­stick or hold­ing my hand when we moved from room to room. I found the at­ten­tion in­tox­i­cat­ing, and when she sug­gested shar­ing an Uber back to hers for a post­party drink, I said yes im­me­di­ately.

As soon as the en­gine started, her hands were in my hair, her lips on mine. She ran her tongue around the in­side of my mouth, and my body re­sponded in­stinc­tively. I hadn’t imag­ined it – the chem­istry was real. Her skin was soft and smelled of co­conut body lo­tion. Just the thought of what we were do­ing turned me on – the fact it was so il­licit and sur­pris­ing, yet also strangely in­evitable.

We tore each other’s clothes off as we stum­bled into her flat – and then into her be­d­room. She pulled my dress off over my head and un­clipped my bra, push­ing me backwards onto the bed. She strad­dled me, wear­ing just her knick­ers, and kissed my lips, ear­lobes and neck, mov­ing softly and slowly to my breasts, cup­ping one gen­tly while flick­ing the nip­ple with her tongue. My hands gripped her hair and I bucked my hips against hers. I was so wet I couldn’t bear the an­tic­i­pa­tion. She moved teas­ingly down my body, kiss­ing, bit­ing and stroking my skin. When she reached my knick­ers, she tugged them off and threw them onto the floor, be­fore run­ning her hands up my thighs. When she fi­nally touched my cli­toris, gen­tly, with her fin­ger­tips, I was so turned on I nearly screamed with the in­ten­sity of it. Then her tongue re­placed her fin­gers, and she gave me the best head of my life, lick­ing me so sen­su­ally that I came al­most straight away.

I then re­turned the favour, dis­cov­er­ing I found it as much of a turn-on mak­ing her writhe and moan as it had been be­ing on the re­ceiv­ing end. There was some­thing so dif­fer­ent about be­ing with a woman – the soft­ness of her body, the fact I knew in­stinc­tively how and where to stroke, lick and kiss her, as it’s where like to be stroked, licked and kissed. The next morn­ing, we said good­bye, agree­ing to keep this just be­tween our­selves. It wouldn’t hap­pen again; it was best kept as a won­der­ful one-off. When­ever I worked with her af­ter that, though, and we caught each other’s eye, we’d al­ways share a se­cret smile.

“I knew ex­actly how and where to kiss her”

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