All characters in this story are 18 or over.

Elinor and Joy

[A/N - wrote this a while ago to come to terms with my own bisexuality, it's slower paced than I usually write. F19 F19, fingering, slowish burn.]

I had always considered myself straight and normal before, when I was with my boyfriend, although together we were always very vanilla and straight forward. Tom had always seemed so great and nice. That was until he went off to university. We tried a long term relationship, but he decided it'd be a brilliant idea to fuck everyone there. Dickhead.

A month after the whole dramatic breakup I was still feeling sorry for myself, but it was my 19th birthday and my best friend Joy was taking me out drinking. It was only at the local Red Lion, but we both knew how to drink like sailors, plus we had perfected talking to the drunk older man, downing the drink he bought and scuttling off to the toilets and then a different section of the bar.

Joy is shorter than me, about 5'4" to my 5'7", she's curvier despite us both being C cups, has a full head of curly blond hair and little filter after even one cider. At 19 she'd figured out how to layer makeup like a mask, wearing a flowery summer dress and leather jacket. I had straightened my shoulder-length black hair, but dancing and alcohol had given it back the waves. I had a unzipped hoodie over a form fitting blue dress, a birthday present my dad didn't know about, and blue heels I really should have swapped for trainers. Instead, I chucked them in my purse and danced with my dark tights on the sticky floor. I've always been naturally skinny, and almost clueless when it came to make-up, but tonight as part of a birthday treat I had been dolled up by Joy.

At 1:30pm, it was last orders and everyone was leaving. The nearest club was a million miles away, and despite our desperate hounding, nobody was hosting afters. The lads our age all moaned about the taxi fare or morning jobs, while the older patrons of the bar were tired or had already left. We begrudgingly called a taxi.

Waiting for it hadn't sobered either of us up and we were still practically legless, but a tiredness had invaded me. The drink was slowing me down now, but for Joy it had quite a different effect.

I'd seen her with her boyfriend Riley on nights out, after a bit too many drinks her hands would drift beneath clothes and kisses would get longer. I always looked away.

Tonight Riley wasn't here.

Inside the taxi, I was sure the driver, an unattractive, nondescript man, 40s, watched as we giggled about nothing and Joy leaned into me, pressing me against the door, laughing and whispering into my shoulder or neck. I was slightly conscious of this and so tried to keep myself sensible but then we'd go over a pothole or swerve around a corner and break into a louder laugh. The journey had been only a radio song's length, but now Joy's smile grew a different feeling and I could feel her hands snaking around my bare arm - I had had a jacket, maybe somewhere, but my arms and shoulders were bare now - her arms hugged mine to her chest, if I thought about it I could feel her belly, her hip, the skin beneath the thin fabric. I glanced at the rear-view mirror and caught the driver's eyes. Joy made a joke, I didn't hear it, I only felt the breath tickle my collar bone.

We got out, stumbling at the curb but catching ourselves, I remembered our purses and her jacket, the driver was paid and sped off, leaving us in the dark. I put the leather on, cold. It was August but it was probably 2am. We were at her parents house, a quaint little bungalow. They were on a Mediterranean holiday.

Joy had already unlocked the door and hissed at me, "Elinor, come on!"

Past the door was a little entrance hallway and then through a door to the kitchen. I followed Joy, not looking past her neck as she stumbled about. She was pouring a drink, only a cider, nothing as nasty as the shots we had inhaled. I looked at her expectantly but she was already pouring me one.

There were two bedrooms in the house, a master bedroom and Joy's. Joy's was small, and only had a single bed, but we were drunk and I was sleepy and we didn't care. I didn't change into the pyjamas I had brought here only hours before, she didn't even open her wardrobe. I took my tights off and jewellery and slipped in next to her, relieved to be under the duvet.

She was warm and so I thought I might drift off immediately, but she was awake. I had positioned myself without thinking and so when she turned over and when her whispers became gentle kisses, the bit of the neck that meets the jaw and my sensitive ears were the target. Logic was already asleep in me, but a different feeling was waking up. I heard what she was whispering now.

"Kiss me, please,"

Like a beg, not a command, and my eyes opened, I saw her in the dark, moonlight tracing her soft hair, the light coming from the slightly open door lighting her hazel eyes. I turned my face a little, leaning my cheek over hers, my own mouth just above her ear.

I moved a fraction before I stopped myself, then I pulled my face back so I could see her entire expression, one of warmth and lust, and that platonic love being corrupted. My over-thinking mind had caught up to the devilish thoughts I had.

"Riley. Riley is your boyfriend." I heard my stern voice say, a warning.

She shuffled lower to kiss my bare shoulder, so soft and yet so sharp to my nerves. It wasn't an answer and I worried if she would even say it. Then the question changed to me, I didn't want her to stop or to listen, I didn't want her to choose Riley over me. She had known him for months, she knew me for over a decade and counting. I adjusted to have my body fully on my side and snaked my other hand to her neck, cupping her round jaw. She kissed me again, below my collar bone just on the line of the dress. Just above where breast tissue started.

I held her jaw tighter for a moment, "What about Riley?". My breathing held, waiting for an answer.

She whispered with more voice, like a cry, "Elinor please."

The sudden wave of pride and lust disregarded everything else, and at once I kissed her back, right on her lips, prying them open and finally tasting her mouth. She only let me, and melted into it. I hadn't kissed a girl before, and certainly hadn't kissed Joy ever, and despite not being my actual first kiss, it felt like it rewrote my entire everything, all the instincts came out to play. With my face and my hands I pushed her into the pillow, now ever so above her with my chest maybe an inch away from hers.

I stopped and took a quick deep breath. I could hear her catching hers, and even though I shadowed her from the moonlight I could somehow feel or see her smile so widely.

I felt her left hand move over my lower ribs, and I froze up a little. It continued around until it was at my back, and she pulled me closer. I kissed her again, but was distracted by the feeling of her chest, her boobs touching mine, even though we were both still in our dresses. My right leg went between hers, and I shivered at the thought. While I overpowered her tongue, she gained an upper edge by sliding her bare leg that was between mine further up, to the start of my thighs. I released her to gasp and she kissed my jaw, leaving a wet trail along. While I certainly could appreciate that, a trickle of fear and embarrassment stiffened my progression. I was wet, I knew it, I could feel it and she could probably smell it. A stranger to my body, not Joy but me, my own learnt and absorbed beliefs knew this was wrong, this was wrong. It was...

Joy's other hand, the one underneath, moved to mirror her left hand but lower, on my hip. The newness and the shame were paralysing, but my body wanted to play, and my pants were only getting wetter. I kissed her forehead and felt my own nervous left hand dangerously close to her boob, and the fingers anticipating the touch, but cruelly I brought it up and cupped Joy's head with both hands. I kissed her temple, I kissed her cheek and the more I tasted her skin the more addicted I was getting. I missed her mouth and kissed along her jaw. Without thinking, my teeth came out and nipped just the flesh, so carefully in case it hurt.

It had the complete opposite effect, I thought she might pull away or push me away. Instead, I earned my first moan. The sound against my cheek was louder than my shame and louder than my flimsy submission. Along the jaw, with my nose at her ear I nibbled again, harder. My legs tightened around hers, we both seemed to get some odd pleasure boost and my lonely pussy ground against nothing. I kissed her neck and put myself further on top of her, Joy becoming flat against the small bed with her arms still wrapped around me. Another instinctual move, my right knee raised, moving underneath the fabric of her dress. I was stopped, not by her, but by more fabric, damp fabric. I kissed her neck again, my brain reminded me that necks are important and fragile, so my teeth didn't play.

She moved her legs, one open, giving my knee more room, the other between my legs. I caught a new scent, one that I couldn't place but sent the feral lizard brain lighting up, and I moved my hips to meet her leg. I gasped a moan when finally my pussy had contact. My breath danced on her collarbone and my hands moved from her jaw, off to which she whimpered, but when my hands both touched her hips I felt her breath from my hair to scalp, deep and excited. She moved her hands to mirror mine, I knew if she moved any further she'd be touching bare thighs, my dress was shorter than hers.

She pecked the top of my forehead with a kiss, she noticed that I had stopped. I rose off her a bit so I could see her face again, still chest to chest and tangled legs, my fingers were frozen at the bottom hem of her dress.

A million different things clouded my head, the lust, the shame and they had individual thoughts storming around. Should I do this, or work my way down from her collar? Should I even be doing this? What am I doing? I've never done this before. I wasn't a virgin, in the straight sense. Do I undress myself first? Kissing your friend is one thing, but we were still clothed, so surely it still counted as nothing.

She moved her soft hands to the hem of my dress and slowly lifted, watching my face the entire time and still smiling at me. Her fingers brushed against my skin, all the way up to when my pants started. She stopped and bit her lip. I wondered what was going through her mind to be so sure.

We didn't actually go to the same highschool, we went to middle school together, missed contact for a year or so and then got back in touch. Then towards the end of highschool she went through what she refers to as a 'hoe' phase, dating anyone for about a week and getting herself into allsorts of drama. I knew that at least one of those conquests had been a girl, a bit of experimentation. I didn't know how far they had gotten.

I leaned back into her, kissing her collarbone, and maybe with a pinch of jealousy at the girl (Freya?) and Riley, I bit her again. My back half raised, my knee moving slightly from her increasingly wet pants to move my belly from being pressed to hers, and lead the summer dress's skirt above her legs, touching her bare thigh and hips and past. She slowly moved to mirror me, undressing me. When I couldn't focus on two people talking, how the hell did I feel every millimetre of her skin, all along her hips; the skin and bone below her collar moistened by my sinful tongue and soft between my nibbles; her fingers on my own skin sending signals straight to my core; her knee against my covered pussy and her boobs pressed close to my neck?

Her hands dipped between my hip and ribs (I'd never been prouder of my hourglass shape) and touched the bottom rib. I was further along, and felt the squishier start of her breasts. While my hands only touched the sides, to remove her dress, I changed my focus to cross another line. Kissing her visible skin was one thing. I removed myself from her poor collarbone, and hoped that I’d left a mark.

I moved to just below the dress, taking her bare skin in with the tiny sliver of light the moon blessed me with, I pecked her belly, below her sternum. The smell of her arousal was stronger here, but I wanted something sweeter first. Moving up, my head met the fabric and it sort of cloaked me. Joy's hands had left my skin and only held the dress, she kept herself still, like if she moved I'd stop. Kissing visible skin was one thing, but kissing the skin just below her bra? It's a bit gay, and that word made me uncomfortable, but her excitement soothed that.

When my lips left and I raised the dress to her sweaty armpits and over the bra I could see and feel her breathing speed up, our eyes met and I saw her nervousness for the first time. I stopped, in line with her cleavage, my own nervousness had been replaced with desire, but I waited and watched.

Her nerves were still clear, but she made her move. Her hands, still holding the fabric of my dress, came to touch the side of my chest, my boobs. The lower palm of her hands closed around my front, the tight material of my dress held my boobs in place but her fingers went under the fabric easily. Electricity surged through my veins, I understood her nervousness, my best friend had cupped my boobs into hungry handfuls and shame and doubt crept in. My eyes closed so I could feel the sensation better, so I could get used to feeling like she was touching something too sensitive and too exciting.

While I had thought of myself as straight before, I wasn't completely ignorant of things. The internet existed, and Tom seemed to have a bit of a dodgy fetish around lesbian porn, while I always looked away, embarrassed, I knew what would come if we went all the way.

The feeling was overwhelming, but stopping had allowed me to think. Which means in order to stop hearing the shame, I'd have to be even more shameful. When Joy squeezed, still exploring my boobs, I opened my eyes to be looking at her cleavage, the summer dress bunched up over her boobs and her bra. I moaned, ground against Joy's knee and kept that motion going, essentially fucking myself with her. My hands between her arms and chest supported me when I kissed the top of one of her boobs. That urge to bite her again came to mind, but I ignored it, knowing this was thin ice and unfamiliar territory.

Instead I just did gentle kisses, knowing they would be very effective. I pressed myself into her, driving my knee back to her soaked pants while grinding on hers, kissing her tits while she played with mine and tucking my hands underneath her back. I found my target and quickly unclasped the hook of her bra. I'd undone my own a million times, but there was something intense about undoing hers. I moved my hands back beside her, and lifted myself off to take the bunched up fabric. I caught her eyes again but she was back to smiling lustfully at me. I grinned back and took her boob in my mouth, the flesh just above the nipple and tasted her again and again. She moaned and in turn her pelvis moved to match my movement. Unlike the skin on her face and collar, this was unbelievably soft and warm and delicious.

When I took her left nipple in my mouth, the hardened little gem, I was glad her parents weren't here, her moan was the loudest yet. Her legs spread out and wrapped around my waist. I sucked harder and thought she might cum from that, it was clear that her breasts were sensitive. I released and caught a section of her under boob in my mouth, and cruelly marked her with a hickey.

"Elinor!" She moaned, not mad but delighted. I wonder what Riley would say.

I lowered my hand to feel the bottom of her belly, the skin here was almost as soft as her boobs, and traced along the panty line. Her eyes met mine and nodded quickly. I moved my knee back despite her thighs grip and felt for the first time the mound of another girl. She was clean shaven and smooth, but clammy, heat and sweat had built down here. My hand lowered. I skirted around her clit, aware it'd be sensitive, I wanted to wait, I was almost scared of touching her there so boldly. My fingers graced the cleft, I was surprised at how fleshy her labia felt - and how soaking wet she was.

She must have been horny all night. I wondered. Was Joy horny in general, or was she craving me specifically? And wouldn't it be wrong for me to want her to want me?

I reached the precipice. I held my breath. Straight girls don't put their fingers inside each other.

Joy pleaded with her eyes. She kissed me, kissing my jaw and lips again and then kissed me properly, tongue and lips and teeth. She moved her hips up and the tip of my fingers were inside her - my fingers.. were in the entrance of her entrance, inside another girl.

My heart hammered in fear almost. I wasn't straight anymore. I was having lesbian sex. I was.. having sexual things with a girl. With my friend.

I pushed my one finger closer, and the other fingers naturally touched her other sensitive skin in that area, I could barely avoid her puffed out button.

She lowered her head and with it in her hand, licked a breast of mine. Slowly. Ah. I was enjoying a woman lick my breast. While still licking, my bra was getting away, as well as my dress itself. Both allowed a small bit of access to my breasts but clearly she wanted more. I gasped at the treatment anyway.

Joy undid the zip and bra. She grabbed my dress from the bottom, and pulled it up and over. My childhood friend was undressing me. She kissed my breast once and then the dress and bra was off. She kissed the breast again after like nothing had changed.

My finger was still slowly exploring inside her, I felt the fleshy walls, the wetness, the channel shape. I move more.

As much as this action frightens me, I know deep down. I'm going to bring Joy pleasure. I love her enough for that.

“Please please please..”

Ok.

I move my finger in her faster, now at a similar pace to a dick. I push deeper too, I notice on the withdraw she squirms, I drag my finger out. I hadn’t noticed before, she has a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. It makes her look sort’ve angelic in this light. When I settle into the rhythm, that’s when I take her breast back into my mouth with deeper kisses. She mewls and cries at me, she must be starting the peak. I’m not sure how long it’ll be before she cums - will she cum on my hand??

I twist my hand slightly, still fingering, and manage to place my thumb on her clit. She seems the type to enjoy direct contact.

This still isn’t intense enough, she needs more. I look into her eyes while sucking the flesh of her breast, her nipple, focusing on swishing my tongue in long circles. My thumb presses hard, her clitorus, I notice how the hood parts all around it, it’s comparatively big, and wet from her excitement getting everywhere.

She’s pumping her hips to my timing and I think about it - I’m fucking my friend. Not with a dick, with my one finger, but still. I’m fucking her. I add my middle finger to her entrance - she squeals. I resume pumping my hand at that pace, it’s a little awkward and might cramp but she’s loving it so much. She still mutters please, like her climax is something I’m keeping from her, or delivering I guess. In this scenario, I’m the man aren’t I, I’m the dick.

I remember seeing a picture of Riley’s dick once - short, sort’ve unpleasant, but girthy. I remember Joy saying the word to me with glee.

I add another finger, I have to shape my hand specifically so the three fingers are in a triangle. I stroke her.. Pussy.. About 5 times fully with my three fingers before I hear her gasp my name loudly. The walls contract, tighten around my fingers, pulsing strong. Her body’s muscles seem to pulse, I feel the hand on my breast tighten, her legs tighten. I got her off.

Her climax fades, and she has a doey smile on her face, I detangle from inside her and place a kiss on her mouth, a peck. She is asleep. My tiredness from the night catches up to me, and I fall asleep, our arms entangled, our legs entangled.

Maybe I’d sit on her face in the morning. She owes me one.