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Description
NOTE: I’ve said many times that I don’t do sex stories. This happens to be a sex story. Yes, the characters are both girls. The story is that they are fourteen, obviously drunk, and bisexual.

Vodka was my new best friend. It was replacing the one sitting in front of me, even. She was looking at me in a hungry sort of way. I had figured out that chocolate went good with vodka and dr. pepper. She said that the two of them combined made her mouth too dry. But I liked it. Chocolate was a personal fetish of hers, I remember. I had some on my index finger, and licked it off, slowly and sensually. We were sitting in silence. Well, it wasn’t quite silent; the thunderstorm was rocking the camper and the music was making my head bob to the bass.

She looked at me, “I’m horny.”

I turned to where I was fully facing her. “So?”

“So I might attack you later.” I nodded, as if it was nothing. “You don’t know how tempting it is to just take that vodka, pour it down your shirt, and then lick it all up.”

My mind stopped moving, because, yeah. I like tongues. I like tongues on me. And she was willing to put her tongue on me. “Don’t do that.” The haze faded a little bit, and my conscience played into view. We’re friends; drunk, sexually frustrated and bisexual friends, but as if that mattered. I wouldn’t screw up the closer friendship I was coming into for a quick screw.

“Why? Cause it would turn you on?” I giggled, not wanting to admit, that yeah, it would.

“Just…. Don’t.” The grin on my face was permanent. She smiled.

“So tempting.” Her eyes glistened with the drunken lust I knew her for. “I want to.”

“You shouldn’t though.” I was still smiling, so I don’t think she believed me.

“Know what?” I didn’t know what, but she was sure to tell me. “I’m going to.” I just laughed.

Before I thought about what was going on, I had a cold drink running into my bra and on my neck. She moved her face downward, I saw her eyes cast up at me, smiling in their own way. And then I closed my eyes. Because I felt her tongue on my neck, then my chest, and then one of my breasts. She smiled as she pulled away.

“I’ll get you back.”

And I did. I put some on my fingers, and she arched her back as I applied it to her neck. I already knew her weak spot, and she knew mine. One of ours are the same; our neck. I bent down and went free, and before I knew it, there was a red spot, and I moved on. Well, I moved down. Down to her breast, or the top of it at least. She moaned when I licked slowly back upwards to her neck. There was something about us and smiling, because neither of us stopped. My shirt came off, and then my bra. I had nothing else in the camper, and I couldn’t walk back into her house tomorrow naked. It would be nice to have clothes that didn’t smell like alcohol.

But we didn’t stop the competition until we were only in our pajama bottoms. She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck, pushing me down onto the small seat. Once her lips reached my own, I retaliated and straddled her on the couch. In between tongues, I muttered, “Too small…”

“There’s a bed. A bigger bed.” I nodded, and then I was being pushed. Our fingers were intertwined, and we fell while attached with a swoosh of air around our heads.

“Can I touch you? Can I finger you?” I giggled, and she said, “No, really. Can I?” And, really, who would I be to say no? So I smiled, and rolled to where I was on bottom. We lay there, just making out. Making out is such a crude term, but kissing doesn’t describe the viciousness that we were pushing through to each other. Then, my pants were gone, and she was on top again. I couldn’t breathe, because she reached down, and I felt her fingers instantly inside of me. This was the first time I was feeling this, and I wasn’t exactly disappointed.

But soon she was tugging down my underwear, and then – oh. That’s not something I’m used to. Not like I was about to sit up and pull her away, I mean, this felt crazy amazing. Why hadn’t I been doing this more often?

Now it’s over. So it was my turn. Kissing her hips, leaving little hickeys in places hidden so no one would know they were there. It wasn’t her hips I was kissing for long. I felt the stubble that meant she hadn’t shaved in a few days. I never did understand shaving down there. I licked her clitoris in a massaging pattern, and I saw her back arch in front of me. She told me this morning that she’d never had an orgasm. I moved up, kissing her breasts and neck while I pumped two fingers inside of her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my temple and panting hard. Arching her back, she got a little bit louder. It was my goal to give her the first. Before I knew it, we were both done and passed out.

An hour or so later, waking up naked with my best friend next to me was slightly awkward. It wasn’t so awkward after we got dressed and back in bed. The next morning, it was a bitch covering up the hickeys, and we both remembered everything. She was the first person to touch me other than myself. I wonder if I gave her the first orgasm of her life, but I never did ask. Sometimes, I see her in the hall and blush because I remember what she looks like naked, and I’m sure she remembers me, too. We still cuddle in our sleep whenever I stay over with her. And every once in a while, it comes to my mind in an awkward silence, and I almost want to laugh, or cry… I can’t decide, because of how weird it seems.

Description
NOTE: I’ve said many times that I don’t do sex stories. This happens to be a sex story. Yes, the characters are both girls. The story is that they are fourteen, obviously drunk, and bisexual.

Vodka was my new best friend. It was replacing the one sitting in front of me, even. She was looking at me in a hungry sort of way. I had figured out that chocolate went good with vodka and dr. pepper. She said that the two of them combined made her mouth too dry. But I liked it. Chocolate was a personal fetish of hers, I remember. I had some on my index finger, and licked it off, slowly and sensually. We were sitting in silence. Well, it wasn’t quite silent; the thunderstorm was rocking the camper and the music was making my head bob to the bass.

She looked at me, “I’m horny.”

I turned to where I was fully facing her. “So?”

“So I might attack you later.” I nodded, as if it was nothing. “You don’t know how tempting it is to just take that vodka, pour it down your shirt, and then lick it all up.”

My mind stopped moving, because, yeah. I like tongues. I like tongues on me. And she was willing to put her tongue on me. “Don’t do that.” The haze faded a little bit, and my conscience played into view. We’re friends; drunk, sexually frustrated and bisexual friends, but as if that mattered. I wouldn’t screw up the closer friendship I was coming into for a quick screw.

“Why? Cause it would turn you on?” I giggled, not wanting to admit, that yeah, it would.

“Just…. Don’t.” The grin on my face was permanent. She smiled.

“So tempting.” Her eyes glistened with the drunken lust I knew her for. “I want to.”

“You shouldn’t though.” I was still smiling, so I don’t think she believed me.

“Know what?” I didn’t know what, but she was sure to tell me. “I’m going to.” I just laughed.

Before I thought about what was going on, I had a cold drink running into my bra and on my neck. She moved her face downward, I saw her eyes cast up at me, smiling in their own way. And then I closed my eyes. Because I felt her tongue on my neck, then my chest, and then one of my breasts. She smiled as she pulled away.

“I’ll get you back.”

And I did. I put some on my fingers, and she arched her back as I applied it to her neck. I already knew her weak spot, and she knew mine. One of ours are the same; our neck. I bent down and went free, and before I knew it, there was a red spot, and I moved on. Well, I moved down. Down to her breast, or the top of it at least. She moaned when I licked slowly back upwards to her neck. There was something about us and smiling, because neither of us stopped. My shirt came off, and then my bra. I had nothing else in the camper, and I couldn’t walk back into her house tomorrow naked. It would be nice to have clothes that didn’t smell like alcohol.

But we didn’t stop the competition until we were only in our pajama bottoms. She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck, pushing me down onto the small seat. Once her lips reached my own, I retaliated and straddled her on the couch. In between tongues, I muttered, “Too small…”

“There’s a bed. A bigger bed.” I nodded, and then I was being pushed. Our fingers were intertwined, and we fell while attached with a swoosh of air around our heads.

“Can I touch you? Can I finger you?” I giggled, and she said, “No, really. Can I?” And, really, who would I be to say no? So I smiled, and rolled to where I was on bottom. We lay there, just making out. Making out is such a crude term, but kissing doesn’t describe the viciousness that we were pushing through to each other. Then, my pants were gone, and she was on top again. I couldn’t breathe, because she reached down, and I felt her fingers instantly inside of me. This was the first time I was feeling this, and I wasn’t exactly disappointed.

But soon she was tugging down my underwear, and then – oh. That’s not something I’m used to. Not like I was about to sit up and pull her away, I mean, this felt crazy amazing. Why hadn’t I been doing this more often?

Now it’s over. So it was my turn. Kissing her hips, leaving little hickeys in places hidden so no one would know they were there. It wasn’t her hips I was kissing for long. I felt the stubble that meant she hadn’t shaved in a few days. I never did understand shaving down there. I licked her clitoris in a massaging pattern, and I saw her back arch in front of me. She told me this morning that she’d never had an orgasm. I moved up, kissing her breasts and neck while I pumped two fingers inside of her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my temple and panting hard. Arching her back, she got a little bit louder. It was my goal to give her the first. Before I knew it, we were both done and passed out.

An hour or so later, waking up naked with my best friend next to me was slightly awkward. It wasn’t so awkward after we got dressed and back in bed. The next morning, it was a bitch covering up the hickeys, and we both remembered everything. She was the first person to touch me other than myself. I wonder if I gave her the first orgasm of her life, but I never did ask. Sometimes, I see her in the hall and blush because I remember what she looks like naked, and I’m sure she remembers me, too. We still cuddle in our sleep whenever I stay over with her. And every once in a while, it comes to my mind in an awkward silence, and I almost want to laugh, or cry… I can’t decide, because of how weird it seems.