MY BEST SEX EVER WAS… with another woman
Alex’s* work party ended up taking a very unexpected turn…
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”