Or rather, she climbed out first.
She snatched up a convenient towel as I climbed out of the tub, and she applied it to me instead of herself. She smiled as she patted me dry, and I felt absolutely pampered, and I could only smile back. She brought the towel up to me breasts, and I felt her hands through the terry pressing on them. She said what lovely breasts that I had. I liked the compliment, and said what nice breasts that she had. It simply seemed like the thing to say. I liked the way that she was looking at my breasts, being very admiring, and I liked being able to look at her bare breasts in the same way.
Suddenly there we were. Our nakedness suddenly seemed so pleasingly romantic and the perfect way to be right then. Two naked females enjoying the luxury of being naked females. I felt so intrigued by what I was experiencing. It was not necessarily sexual. It was more than that.
I took the towel to dry her, doing it almost automatically.
She turned and let me do her back.
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I liked her buttocks. They were smooth and firm.
She turned and I applied the towel to her breasts in the same way that she had done with me. I was surprised at how full they felt, and how firm. She grinned and made a cooing noise as I rubbed the towel over her mammary asses ts. I laughed and said, "Oh, Ms. Aimes . . . "
She told me to call her Leslie.
I liked that. She was no longer this unapproachable teacher, but someone real.
The air was cool on our dampish skin.
Yet, it was nice being naked like this.
As if not wanting to waste our being unattired, Leslie said that maybe we could have a warm little cuddle in the bedroom.
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I didn't feel surprised, except with maybe myself. I said how nice that sounded.
We left the bathroom, leaving our clothes there, and we walked through the living room, and made our way to the bedroom. We climbed onto the bed, stretching out across the soft comforter. With cuddling in mind, we slipped into each others arms. I loved being naked with her like this. It felt so personal and intimate.
We were both still all smiles at our being this daringly indulgent.
Leslie kissed me. Her lips pressed against mine. There was nothing awkward about it. I kissed her back. It took me a moment to realize that I was kissing a woman. Another female. Yet, it felt so good.
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Leslie's lips were gentle, working softly against mine. I could her breasts against mine. I could feel the firmness of her nipples pushing into the substance of my breasts. I felt her pubic hair against my leg.
She drew back and said something about sometimes it was nice being with a girlfriend like this.
I agreed.
Her hands gently massaged my right breasts.
Daringly, I reached my hand out to feel her breasts. It was different than feeling my own. It was exciting. The next thing that I knew, she was kissing and gently sucking on my nipples.
Then I felt her fingers moving between my legs, touching my clitoris, and I suddenly realized how excited I was. We kissed again, her hand remaining between my legs, caressing me. Exciting me. I let my hand squeeze between her legs.
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My fingers going through the soft, coarse hair. I felt the firm bump. My fingers moved around. I felt the vaginal lips, and then I felt a wetness. Leslie was as wet as I was. I was excited by that. Excited to think that I could make her have this response. We laid there, kissing and rubbing each others clit, masturbating one another purposefully.
It was such a timeless moment.
I loved how all of this felt. So safe. So exciting. I was thrilled.
I had never known anything so romantic in my entire life.
Finally we were both close to having an orgasm.
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Leslie came first. She tensed and groaned, her eyes squeezed shut. I was amazed to think that I could give her an orgasm. My fingers and my hand was so wet and slippery, and I kept rubbing her. She gasped and groaned.
Then she was giving me an orgasm.
It was so sudden and intense. Nothing like masturbating myself. I felt her fingers rubbing my clit, prolonging the sensation, making my back lift off the bed.
Then I lay there breathing hard and she was smiling at me.
.
