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When Women Love: A Tale of A Girl Growing Up in New Orleans, Part I

Short Description: My first real sensual experiences were with an older woman. She was a dear friend who lost her home after Hurricane Katrina. A beautiful woman, she taught me a lot about being a lady.

It was a difficult time for my mother and me when I started school at Cabrini High in New Orleans. While mom was happy I got into this competitive girl's school, her personal life was in turmoil. Dad left us for an airline stewardess, and mom tried to juggle her job as a geriatric nurse and me and men she met in bars. She was 34, beautiful with a dancer's slim body and she seemed to meet a lot of men. Sometimes they came to dinner and would be openly affectionate with her at the dinner table, and run their hands through her long blond hair. Then the next day they would disappear forever.

While mom and I were really close, it was sometimes a problem if I came home from school, banging the door shut behind me only to hear her bed creaking and her moaning from her room. One time I walked toward her room and the door was open enough for me to look in. First, there was this musty smell I didn't like, then shock made my heart skip a beat when I saw my mother, on her back with her head over the side of the bed, while a man I hadn't seen before was hunched over her. He was a handsome, older man with thinning hair on top. His hips were jacking back and forth, mechanically, and I could see his penis, red and thick, moving in and out of mom. It was weird because her breasts would jiggle and her head would rhythmically bounce up and down with the man’s movements. She had her hands on her his butt (gross!) and I heard her say, "stay inside me, Jeff...I want you to stay in me." With her head jerking up and down with the man's thrusts I couldn't tell if she could see me even though her eyes seemed half open and leaned back toward the door.

I ran into my room and quietly closed the door. I laid face down on my bed and listened to my heart thump away. I could hear the man groaning as he had his orgasm. I wanted to close my ears, so I covered them. I tried to chase the image of the man on top of my mother away from my imagination. I lay there with my long brown hair covering my face, turned away from the door. I looked at an old poster of Burt Reynolds my mom had given me. He was sexy and handsome and I looked at the bulge in his cowboy pants, thinking he must be as big as the man in the other room. I thought about Jenny, the school slut. She had told me she had given a boy from Archbishop Rummel a blow job. She had let him kiss her and touch her little boobies in his car on the way home from a dance. She told me and my best friend Sarah that he got an erection and then he needed her to go down on him. Sarah was totally grossed out by the idea but I wanted to know what it was like when he had an orgasm. Jenny described it like it was a warm salty pickle in your mouth, suddenly filling your mouth and whatever got on your face with hot, sticky stuff that looked like spit. “You don’t taste it, you just swallow,” she said.

I turned around on my back when I heard the shower turn on. They were taking a shower together. I could hear them laughing and doing other stuff. I unbuttoned my blouse and touched my breasts through my bra. Mom said I was still developing, which was too bad. My breasts were more than the mounds most of my girlfriends had, but you could easily cup them with your hands. I thought they were very pretty, I didn’t want them to grow anymore. I was tired and didn’t want to wear a bra at the dinner table. So I took my blouse and skirt off, and threw my panties and bra into the laundry basket. I put on some little yellow shorts and a snug t-shirt that exposed my tummy. I looked at myself in the mirror and admired the pointy look my nipples gave me when they became erect under the well washed cotton. I waited for dinner.

The man was very nice to me. He talked about a bunch of boring stuff with mom but he was friendly and attentive. I talked about school. He wanted to impress mom, I could tell. After dinner we sat in the living room. I watched TV with my legs curled up under my arms. The man and mom sat opposite me, but I could tell the man was looking at me, in a funny way. When they were talking with each other I looked down and I could little tufts of pubic hair exposed in a way that the man could see but not my mom. I was shocked but also interested in the way he kept looking my way. I didn’t know how to react. I thought he was a perv for looking at me on the one hand, and on the other…I felt powerful. When mom got up to make coffee, the man looked right at me with a look I know very well today. With my heart racing, I pretended to take advantage of a commercial break by doing a stretch exercise involving my right leg. I stretching it out I exposed my loins to the man. Excited, he rubbed himself through his while trying to peek through the gap in my shorts. I looked at him and he seemed star struck by the gift I was giving him. When mom returned I got off the couch and went into my bedroom. I guess my mom saw what he was doing, I couldn’t really see anything but I could tell she was upset with me.

So I decided to sign up for dance team and the travel group just to spend more time away from home. My mother was clearly happy and she soon arranged for one of her friends, Dana, who used to be my dance teacher when I was younger, to come pick up from school sometimes and she and I would go to her house. She lived a couple of miles away from our home in a big house with a deck and a little pool in the back. She was sweet and a little older than mom and she liked to dress in a very elegant style with lots of jewelry. She had a medium build with large breasts, and pretty green eyes and long brown hair.

Dana was very sweet to me and would sometimes take me to dinner or to go shopping for clothes. I didn't know it wasn't really proper for my mom's girlfriend to buy me clothes, but they were things mom wouldn't let me have anyway-so why not? Dana bought me a push-up bikini and a babydoll dress with a fly-away top. She also bought me fun street clothes like hip hugging blue jeans and short shorts. But mostly she wanted me to dress like a lady, a sexy lady.

When I would try clothes on I could tell she was also admiring my body. I loved her attention and I liked looking at my body while she watched me in the mirror. She said that I was becoming a beautiful young woman. Once, in the dressing room at Macy's, she caressed my hips and ran then up my sides to my breasts, saying that I was developing an hour-glass shape that made me stand out from the other girls at school. I blushed. I looked at the mirror and admired myself. My pointy breasts, the lean athletic body, even my sharply defined vulva slightly obscured by light pubic hair no longer worried me like they did even a few months before. I owe Dana as much as any woman for helping me to love my life as a woman, to simply love being a woman. Through clothes and helping me dress, to brushing my hair and taking long bubble baths with me she helped appreciate my body. Even watching soaps and movies together we bonded and she told me sad stories from her own life.

Dana ran a photography studio from her home and so she had a lot of clothes that she would give her customers to wear and pose in front of cameras. A lot of the clothes were old fashioned things, bowler hats for the men, and long flowing dresses for the women. She wrote books and used her photographs to illustrate her stories. A lot of pictures had naked women and men. The women were white and all very pretty and the men were hot, muscular...and, I don't know. I would have thought they were 'hung' but besides that brief glance at the man with my mother that time I didn't know what would be considered large for the male organ.

One Friday after school, Dana picked me up and asked if it would be okay if we spent the weekend together. I was like--are you kidding? Let's go!

We must have spent an hour trying to figure out what to wear. We settled on black cocktail dresses. Mine was backless, and it was a big hit at the fancy restaurant we went to for dinner. Dana told me about growing up in Baton Rouge, her marriage when she was fifteen and her life in France for two years. I was captivated. Sometimes she would reach out and hold my hand and it was beautiful. We both had a little too much wine, and we were both tipsy when we got back to Dana's place. After kicking off our heels, we tumbled into her bed.

It was so nice, laying under the crook of her arm, both of us on our backs. I felt as if I were floating on her bed, and she sang to me a song in French. Even though I took French in school I didn’t understand it. It was a beautiful song anyway and our entwined scents lured me into a half-sleep. Her hand brushed my hair and it felt so good that I leaned my head back against hers. Soon she touched my cheeks and I could feel her heart begin to beat faster. My own cheeks grew warm as her hands encircled my neck. Her soft hands caressed my face. I opened my mouth to purr with pleasure when she began to rub my shoulders.

"Kimmie?" She said, with her fingers under the straps of my dress. I nodded faintly, and she rolled the straps to along my arms. I took a breath when she exposed my breasts just above my nipples. At that moment I wished my breasts were bigger, like Dana’s. Her soft palms spread out over my chest, her fingertips sliding up the slight rise of my bosom. Her touch was cool but exciting. It was electric. My body tingled, and my heart began to race with hers. I arched my back slightly to meet her hands, I wanted her to embrace my small but firm breasts. In my excitement I let my legs fall to the sides, and when I joined them I felt a flash of dampness at tip of the V that my legs made.

My breasts were half-exposed and she leaned over to kiss me. At first her warm breast brushed my face as she shifted to align her lips with mine. I longed for her breast, I wanted to suckle her. It was a long and beautiful kiss, the first ever romantic kiss of my life and I felt transported to heaven. The warm and tingly sensation in my tummy spread through my chest and I felt my cheeks warm up.

Settling back into her previous position, she took the straps of my dress and hesitated. I nodded my head and she slid the straps down my arms, exposing my breasts completely. Not for a moment did I think of covering them, I did not feel self-conscious or embarrassed by their exposure to her eyes. I felt proud of the two round and white mounds protruding from my chest, and excited by the site of my own nipples becoming erect and red, like two pink lanterns. I shifted slightly and could feel the tug of gravity on my breasts. I thought that they looked so pretty in the caramel light of her bedroom, turning our skin bronze even as they were more sensitive than silk.

Her fingers played with my nipples until they became erect and she caressed my breasts for a few moments. Then, she pushed my dress down further. Her fingers danced down the slope of my belly south of my ribcage, and she rubbed the area around my tummy. At each step of the way I felt her wait for me, to see if I wanted her to stop. I thought of the night she taught me to belly dance, and the tender way her hand rippled with my tummy as I made waves in it for her. At that time we fell over giggling, but now it felt so sensual. So beautiful. The next thing I knew, she had taken my dress off, and she was naked too. I turned to kiss her, but she gently pushed me away. Settling my head on her tummy, she spread my legs open.

She ran her hands on the smooth skin of my legs. They were parted just like my mom’s the time I walked in on her. Her hands began to rub the insides of my thighs. I was so excited, I couldn't stand it. I could feel heat throbbing in my abdomen. I was so moist that when she parted my legs I could feel the air turn cold between them. I felt her hand part my labia, and I sucked my breath in with excitement. Taking moisture from just inside me she touched my clitoris. As with the shock of pleasure I felt when she touched my breasts, the warm feeling of ecstasy began to grow as she rubbed circles around my erect clit.

Leaning over me, her breast brushed past my mouth and I sucked at her nipple as she continued to rub the hardened nub above my labia. The first orgasm I ever had was under her hands, and it struck me like a lightning bolt. I could a space inside me spasm for the very first time. For the first time I really felt that space to be deep inside me and not just under the pink folds between legs. That space ran through a narrow place and I could feel wavelike contractions deep in my belly spreading a warm pleasure through my body. I began to shudder under her touch and rhythmically began to rock my hips, as if a boy were inside me and I wanted to pleasure him, like my mother did for that man. It soon got to be too much and another wave of orgasm, stronger than the first made such strong waves of contractions inside me that I slammed my legs together, catching her hand between them. Relaxing, I let her bring a third orgasm to me, as I clenched the sheets underneath. As I lay there, exhausted, I could feel muscles moving within me that I never knew existed.

I don't remember much after that, I think I fell asleep in her arms, with her watching over me, watching my breasts rise and fall, and my tummy shudder through the night, reliving a spectacular first night of woman love. When I woke up in the morning, I was laying on my back under a thin white bedsheet. The sun crossed through the window blinds left zebra striped shadows across my body and the bedroom. I was naked under the sheets, my legs were together and my arms folded under my breasts with a fresh rose tucked under my arm and my legs lay close together.

Dana appeared, it seemed, the moment I awoke, in a nightgown. Her own baby doll dress, all white and pretty. She pulled the sheet back to look at me. My eyes were mostly closed, I understood she wanted to look at me supine, and I pretended to sleep while she looked at me. She seemed to want to memorize every inch of my naked body. My slightly erect nipples crowning two round breasts rising and falling with each breath, my tummy sloping downward toward my prominent mons pubis. I could feel her eyes tracing the outline of my crack just as her eyes watched my mine for signs of consciousness. I opened my eyes at that time. She was all smiles and giggles, and she leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. Our tongues swished against each other, and her hand caressed me, slowly sweeping it from my loins to my bosom. I was in love. And I was becoming a woman.

Dedicated to D.S.