Written By: Eliza McHarty
“I’ve never had an orgasm,” Ivy suddenly blurted.
My head came up quickly, thinking it was some sort of joke. My gorgeous red-headed friend just stared back at me with wide, green eyes. Ridiculous.
She was the most sensual, uninhibited young woman I knew. Every move she made was filled with sexuality, every glance was flirtatious, every piece of clothing she wore was exotic and sexy. Especially now.
Ivy and I were on vacation on the coast far from our hometown, and she seemed to come alive beneath the touch of the sea breeze; her necklines had plunged lower to expose more of her breasts, her skirts had climbed upward to show off more of her large, long, curvy legs, and she flirted with every man she passed unabashedly. I think the anonymity of it all pleased her.
My mind slipped back to the day before when she had asked me to give her a back rub as we watched a movie in our hotel room. I had always been very good at massage and was frequently commissioned at sleep-overs to give massages to everyone present until my fingers ached, so I thought nothing of it. I grabbed my massage oil, put it in the microwave for ten seconds, and asked her to lay on her stomach.
Straddling her, I pushed her waist-length, straight, ruby-red hair to one side and pulled up her shirt briskly. She shivered at my first touch, and I frowned thoughtfully, wondering at her reaction. I put my usual vigor into the rub, and she moaned, occasionally arching her back sinuously, and her flawless skin shined blue beneath the flickering, ethereal light of the TV. I realized she had long ago stopped watching the movie, and her breath had become ragged, her moans more helpless. No, Ivy was too sensual to have never possessed her own orgasm.
I blushed now, looking into her coy eyes, hoping that she couldn’t see what I was thinking about, hoping that she didn’t remember or notice that her moans had elicited a throbbing between my legs, and that I had attempted to relieve it by rocking my hips slightly against her buttocks, hiding it beneath the guise of throwing my whole body into the massage.
I bit my lip, my cheeks burning at the memory. Hastily looking back down at the beach bag I was packing with lotion, sandwiches, beach towels, and a small radio I said, “That’s ludicrous. Why not?”
She sat down beside me on the bed, and still, I busied myself too much to look at her. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had all those selfish bastards for boyfriends, you know. And I’m not sure how to go about…”
I looked up at her. “Masturbation?”
“Yeah.”
The image of her lush form nude, her legs spread wide, masturbating herself rose unbidden to my mind, and I pushed it away quickly.
I’d know many women who’d never had orgasms, who didn’t know how to masturbate, and I’d become something of a sexual guru amongst my acquaintances. I could explain the process to her, as I had too many women before her. But something stopped me.
“Ready to go?” I chirped, my voice a bit too high.
She flounced off the bed and walked toward the door, her full hips swinging rhythmically from one side to the other. She looked over one of her soft shoulders, her long-lashed eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled at me. It was times like these I was positive she knew what she could do to me.
Sunset approached the beach on which we had been sunbathing. A huge group of 200 spring-breaking college kids sets up a kegger nearby. We were invited over. As night fell, Ivy and I tossed back a few shots, and the party became more and more debauched. Girls danced with girls, guys with guys, there were threesomes and foursomes of men and women imitating orgies with the expressive, carnal movements of their dance, and in the shadows away from the firelight, one could make out the vague outlines of bodies moving in a far more realistic portrayal. Ivy and I, at various points, were the center of attention, especially around Ivy, where the men piled to a depth of two or three to watch her dance. I watched Ivy as she danced with a guy, and she held my gaze as she undulated her earth-goddess body against her partner, then turned and rhythmically rubbed her rump up against his obvious erection. He moaned, and I envied him. I mirrored her movements with my own partner, the intensity of her attention burning in the pit of my belly.
A couple of shots later, I did not need to envy him. It was I who danced with Ivy, our lush bodies moving against each other in serpentine, liquid waves, aggressively provoking each other in our performance. Men and women watched or cheered from the sidelines, not because we were the only girls doing this, but because we were the best, the most elaborate, the most heated. The exhibitionist in me enjoyed it intensely. I tried to think of it as only a dance, but when the crotch of her bikini rubbed against my tan, smooth thigh I felt a dampness that had nothing to do with ocean water. Again, I explained it away, thinking perhaps she had acquired that arousal from a previous, male dancer.
Hours later, we stumbled into our hotel room, giggling. We went to the kitchen, ransacking our stash of food. When I lifted a spoon full of ice cream to Ivy’s mouth, her full lips parted, the tip of her tongue caught a bit of the cream, and I was almost undone. I kept my composure as her mouth closed around the spoon full, and she moaned a bit more dramatically than what was necessary. I found my lips hovering a scant centimeter from hers.
“Good?” I asked on a murmur as if it was a proposition.
“Uh-huh.”
I jerked away, disengaging myself from her spell. “I need a shower,” I said, brushing at the diamond-like sand that sparkled on my skin.
“Nuh-uh, I get the shower,” Ivy protested.
“We’ll both use it.” It took me a moment to realize I was the one who said this. Before I could somehow take it back, she was on her way to the bathroom.
She didn’t turn on the lights in the bathroom, which was huge and had one wall that was nothing but a large window. I chose to leave the drapes open, allowing the moonlight in. By the time I stepped in, she was already in the shower, which was actually a two-person jacuzzi. She had stripped off her bikini, and she stood beneath the stream of water, her head tilted back. She stepped aside to allow me my turn, and my body brushed up against her, sending a shock of longing through me. I took the opportunity to pull the latch on the tub stopper to allow the shower to fill the jacuzzi. I shampooed my long, rich, mahogany-colored hair.
I might have been embarrassed or shy at the frank gaze that she used to rake my body, had she not told me repeatedly in the past that she was jealous of my large breasts, my rounded hips, the slight swell of my belly. Actually, our bodies were very similar, except that I was several inches taller, and while my coloring was dark, exotic, and earthy, hers was brilliant, shocking, and fiery.
When I allowed her to get beneath the stream again and saw her stiffened nipples, I stopped attempting to explain away her behavior. I came up behind her, putting shampoo in my hands and rubbed it into her scalp – she always said she loved to have her hair toyed with. I pressed my nude body against her back and she exhaled as if she had been holding her breath forever.
“So, you’ve never had an orgasm?” I said, my lips by her ear.
She shook her head.
“Would you like me to show you? To teach you?”
She nodded eagerly.
“Mmm, I thought you would want that. Well, first we need to get you ready for me.”
My hands slid down to cup her two breasts, which were a perfect handful. Her nipples were large and hard, and her flesh was slick and hot.
“I’ve always wanted to touch these, Ivy,” I said. She tried to speak, but her words were garbled and breathy, making them unrecognizable. I nipped at the wet contour of her neck, and she whimpered.
“Put your hand over mine, sweetheart, so I can show you how.” She obeyed, and we slid our right hands in unison down to her pussy, which was waxed completely clean, like me, making her smooth beyond belief. I felt her body tremble violently at my touch, and I slid one of my long, french-manicured nails into the slickness of her slit. She bit back a scream, laying her head back against my shoulder, appearing faint. I drew some of her cunt juice up to her clit, circling her clit over and over with my index finger. I did this only a few seconds before I realized she was on the brink of orgasm, and I slowed my pace.
“Does that feel good baby?”
“Yes, yes, please don’t stop! ”
“You like it? All this wetness is for me?”
“Oh God, yes… please…”
“I can make it better.”
Her eyes flew open in shock. I smiled at her, enjoying my power. I pushed her up against the wall, capturing her wrists gently above her head. I bit at her lower lip, tugging it softly with my teeth, then plunged my tongue into the dark hollow of her mouth, feeling dizzy at the sensation of our breasts rubbing against each other as she writhed against me, our breath coming hard and fast.
I pulled away, telling her to turn off the shower. She blinked. I stepped out of the shower, reaching into my handbag, and pulled out my water-proof vibrating dildo. I was delighted to see that she didn’t notice the vibrator in my hand, and I sat down in the huge expanse of the tub, which was now filled with water. I gestured for her to straddle me, and she did. She rubbed her mound against my own, and I could feel my eyes rolling back as her clit rubbed against mine. I fingered her again, this time with the pleasure of her big tits rubbing erotically against me and she arched her back as we kissed.
“Do you want it, huh? Do you want me Ivy?” I demanded.
She whimpered my name again in response.
Without warning, I pushed the vibrator I had concealed beneath the water up inside her. She cried out and pulled away from me, and I rubbed the pad of my thumb against her clit as I fucked her with the dildo. “Oh God yes, Eliza, please, more, harder” she whined, my name spilling from her lips over and over, and I happily obliged. She humped the eight-inch length of the dildo with insane speed, seeming to be in a fevered frenzy. I pulled it away before she could orgasm. She growled in protest, but I encouraged her to sit upon the wide ridge of the tub where she could lean up against the wall. I took a moment to admire her zaftig curves, her pure white skin that resembled fine china, her fiery coloring before I knelt and nipped at one thick thigh. She whimpered a plea as I lapped at her pretty pink pussy lips, and her clean, slick hole, teasing her by dancing circles around her clit. Finally, I flicked my tongue back and forth over her turgid clit, imitating the movement of a butterfly’s wing. When she began to shudder and threw back her head, I suckled at her clit, licking it in my mouth, and she screamed in her ecstasy, her head thrown back, her hands buried in my damp hair, her back arched as she came on my face.
“That… that was…” she struggled to find words in between gasps after I had given her a few moments to recover.
“That was not done.”For the second time that night, she looked at me with shock. I smiled again. “I have more.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s possible! I’m pretty sure I just orgasmed, Eliza.”
“You can orgasm again,” I said as I sucked at her nipple, my own pulse pounding in the juncture of my legs, the heat unbearable, my juices flowing half way down my thighs.
She lit up. “Really?”
I groaned, ignoring her as I caught her nipple between my pearly white teeth, making her gasp.
I arranged her sitting on my lap, facing away from me, toward the wall of the tub, then reached up and flipped the switch controlling the jacuzzi. I grabbed onto her knees and spread them apart just in time for the jet to come on, and she yelped when, as planned, the jet of water hit her cunt. I smiled as her surprise gave way, and I fondled her titty with one hand, caressing her asshole with the other until she came. I lifted my hips at the same moment that she was still finishing her spasms, with her body still atop mine, the weight of her body made light by the water, and directed the jet at my own clit. I closed my eyes and light exploded behind my eyes, Ivy’s cries of delight rang in my ears, her firm breasts heaving in my palms. I barely had the presence of mind to use one hand to continue to stroke Ivy’s clit, giving her a third orgasm, as heat and sensation screamed through my body, making me unable to bite back my own scream as the nails of one of my hands sought purchase on the cream of Ivy’s breast, leaving faint lines in her flesh as I jerked and came repeatedly, all before Ivy’s own orgasm was through.
We came down slowly together, still trembling. Kissing my full lips, she said “Will you teach me some more?”
I laughed. “You are insatiable.”
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