Kathy is Different Ch. 03

I woke to the sensation of my nipple hardening on the tight cone of my areola. In my dream, it was a boy I dated a couple of times in high school who was lightly, as the word you see in those bodice-ripping romance novels says, fondling my breast. I guess I even said his name was I was dreaming and waking, because as my eyes opened Nancy was smiling down at me.

"Do I look like a Steve?" she asked.

She kissed me but before it could become sexual she rolled out of bed.

She walked into the bathroom and, I flatter myself, put a little extra swing into her ass to impress me. It was an impressive ass at that. Nancy is a big girl, buxom as one of the protagonists in the hardcore detective novels I enjoy might put it. Her hips flared and her bubble butt was round and smooth although I thought I detected the first hints of the cellulite dimpling that she would probably hate in 20 years after she had a kid and still liked her pizza and beer. But for now, it was that delightful inverted heart shape with cute dimples at the top of the roundness of her gluteus maximus muscles that gave it that lovely shape. She wasn't wasp-waisted, but she did have distinctly flaring hips. She was perfectly female and utterly feminine. I liked looking at her.

My need to pee drove me from bed. She was at the sink, brushing her teeth when I sat to pee. She rinsed, spat, and giggled.

"I thought maybe you'd stand to pee," she said.

"Now you've hurt my feelings," I said, only partially joking, "just because I've got this," I pushed down on my dick, pointing it straight down, "doesn't mean I'm not a girl."

She came over and kissed me.

"I'm sorry, Sweety," she said, her palms on my cheeks and looking into my eyes, "I was joking."

"I know," I said, "I'm silly but, well, you know."

She laughed.

"No, Kathy, that's the thing," she said, still holding my face, "I don't know. I can't even really imagine."

"It's okay," I said.

"No, it's not," she said, "I need to be sensitive and I need to make sure the rest of the girls understand that."

I had that sudden rush in my legs and deep in my belly as my adrenal glands squeezed.

"The rest of the girls?" I asked.

She laughed at that, releasing my cheeks and leaning back against the vanity. I was struck, again, by how damn feminine she looked even with those relatively small breasts. Her hips flared under her incipient belly roll, her muffin top. Her pubic hair was trimmed to a very distinct strip but the stubble showed that she naturally had a very wide delta of curls. Her legs were dancers legs and her arms showed the training she had gone through to make the cheerleading squad at her high school. "Not good enough to be the head cheerleader or bag the quarterback," she said, "but I did have a sweet lineman."

"Kathy," she said, "You and Annette are the only Freshmen," and she stopped there, smiling, her eyes moving up and right as she thought, "Freshpersons?" she said, "I refuse to use the handbooks idiotic 'first year,' maybe 'Freshchicks?'," she giggled and started over.

I was laughing too. My roommate's mind is an interesting place.

"Anyway," she went on, chuckling, "you're my roommate and Annette is Leigh's, so you guys get a kind of automatic invitation to our little group. But the rest of us had all of last year to get to know each other and we got to know each other VERY well," she added a Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle here and finished with, "If you know what I mean."

We were silent for a moment then, me sitting and finishing, her standing and watching.

I reached down and shook and for, oh, about the bazillionth time thought how nice it would be to need to wipe rather than shake. Yes, I'm still confused about many things.

She kissed me, a quick kiss in passing, and said, "Brush your teeth and come back to bed. We'll talk."

I brushed, rinsed, spat, rinsed with Listerine, and headed for bed.

I could see her eyes focused on my dick as I walked back into the bedroom so I stopped, probably still a bit drunk and high, and started thrusting my hips, making it bob up and down. I'm not big enough for it to, you know, "flop."

I started shimmying, getting my boobs swaying. They ARE big enough to "flop," and soon I had them going.

She laughed and said, "Come here, beautiful," and patted the bed.

Rather than just, well, "joining" her, I went to the foot of the bed and started at her feet, kissing my way up her body.

She giggled and said, "I'll give you EXACTLY 42 minutes to stop that."

I looked up, kissed the inside of each knee, and said, "Only 42 minutes? I'd better hurry then."

"You'd better," she said.

I did NOT hurry. I continued kissing my way up her body, drawing little squawks when I nipped the soft skin on the inside of her upper thighs and then a soft, drawn-out sigh as my tongue parted her labia in one long lick ending at her clitoris. As I probed with my tongue, feeling that hard little button of her pleasure and her sudden intake of breath my areolas and nipples tightened and I felt the rush of the beginning of an erection I had one of those epiphanies that you get from time to time.

"It's my clitoris," I thought, as I felt what was happening between my legs, almost in sympathy with what I was doing between hers.

"Oh damn," she said, giggling and grabbing my hair to pull me hard against her.

She came.

I was surprised. I had never thought of a woman as being "hair-triggered" and for me, an orgasm was difficult to achieve.

But here was the proof that women could cum easily. I was drinking her, loving the salty oily taste of her, the slick feel of her love honey making my clitoris throb.

She came in three quick waves, pulling my hair hard enough to hurt with each one, but I didn't mind. I was getting a vicarious satisfaction and, well, that special throbbing of my clitoris was something new.

As the tension of her third orgasm started to ease she pulled me off of her and then up.

Her legs were spread and as she pulled me forward she was kissing my slick lips and her hips were tilting to accept me.

"Please," I said, pulling away, "Please, not that."

That broke the mood suddenly.

"You don't want me?" she asked and I was surprised at the hurt in her voice.

"No," I said, kissing her, "No, Nancy, it's not that. I want you. Christ, I WANT you. But when we did that it was like I was, well," and I wound down, putting my thoughts in order.

"What?" she asked, all tenderness and solicitousness now.

"When we did that it was like I was a mannnnnnnn," and I couldn't help the way I drew out the final alveolar nasal "n."

"Come here," she said, pulling me to her.

I was crying, frustrated, embarrassed, and feeling so damn sad I just wanted to curl up and die.

"It's okay," she said, holding me, her hand light on my back caressing in that way she might caress a hurt baby, "Don't worry, Kathy, nobody will think you're not a woman."

"But I didn't FEEL like a woman," I said into her breast as she stroked my hair.

"Honey," she said, pushing me far enough away to focus on my eyes, "We ALL want that sometimes."

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, feeling like a little girl right then as I couldn't stop crying, and said, "You do?"

She smiled at me, one of those crooked smiles with a lot of thinking going on behind it and then released me and rolled out of bed.

"Don't you DARE move," she said, smiling.

"Unless you WANT to find out what Nancy's spankings feel like," she added before turning her back and rummaging through the bottom drawer of her chest of drawers. She stood and went into the bathroom leaving with a "Do NOT move," over her shoulder.

I didn't want to move and lay there, thinking.

I was still kind of wallowing in my recently shed virginity but also, well, "mixed up" after the way my body had reacted last night. As I lay there, the words for how I felt kept running through my mind. "Conflicted?" fit. "Confused?" was certainly accurate. "Bewildered," "perplexed," and a half dozen other words ran through my mind.

"I'm a woman, dammit," I thought to myself.

"That didn't feel very feminine," I responded.

I nodded to myself at that.

I could hear the water running in the bathroom as I had that conversation with myself.

"Close your eyes," she said from the bathroom.

I closed my eyes, still sniffling.

I felt her crawl into bed with me and then her fingers lightly brushing my cheeks.

"Give me your hand," she said.

I offered my hand and she took it. She guided me down her belly.

My eyes flew open.

She had an erection.

"What?" I managed before she covered my mouth with a hungry kiss.

I watched as she moved around, getting her knees between mine and then using the tube she had in her hand to pour a clear jel over her erection.

She smiled, bent, kissed me, and whispered in my ear, "Spread those pretty legs, Baby, and I'll show you how a woman does it."

I spread my legs and she pushed my knees back and up until they touched my nipples.

I felt the touch of her erection on my panus.

She held my eyes, smiling, and then whispered, "I love you," as she pressed a little harder and entered me.

My breath caught and I heard myself moaning.

"Are you okay, Kathy?" she asked, holding still and meeting my eyes.

"Yes, oh, God, yes," I breathed, my entire body tingling. That small part of my brain that never seems to turn off whispered "enraptured," and I realized that was a good word to describe me at that instant. I was transported. That part of her body inside of me, and it WAS a part of her body, amplified the other sensations I had. Her firm breasts against mine gave me a rush that made my mammary glands swell. The skin of her belly against mine left little burning traces. Her hands, where they caressed my face or played with my hair or tickled my ear were separate things, making me squirm and yet seek more.

But this was more than just what she was doing to my body.

"My beautiful girl," she said, the words warm puffs in my ear.

"God, ((kiss)) you ((kiss))sexy ((kiss)) woman," she said softly as she covered my face with kisses.

And all of me was responding. My ovaries were pouring hormones into my blood making my nipples ache and that place where the skin of my empty scrotum, that place where my vagina should have been, was a separate set of sensations each time she entered me to her full length and that coarse pubic hair brushed against me.

I was hard, so hard it hurt, but not a man's erection at all. This was a woman's swollen clitoris (something Nancy pronounced "cliterus" unlike the "clitoaris" I had always thought when I read the word) but for me, it did double duty as my love honey flowed, slowly, until it puddled around my belly button.

"Let yourself go," she said, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a little high-pitched as her own release drew near.

My hips were rocking now, meeting each thrust so I could take her as deep into my body as I could.

"Let yourself go," she said again, this time her teeth nipped my earlobe sending a fresh jolt of electricity through me.

"Yes," was all I could manage as my orgasm approached. The pressure in my belly was almost unbearable. My legs were wrapped around her now, my heels on her ass, pulling her deeper. My fingers dug into her back.

"Let yourself go," she said for the third time, this time latching onto my neck with her lips, sucking hard, and I knew she was leaving a fucking hickey on my neck like we were in high school or something.

And I came.

This wasn't the ejaculation of masturbation. This was a true woman's orgasm. It wasn't the few seconds of ecstasy/agony of my prostate pumping. This lingered, the pure pleasure spreading slowly from where she was inside of me down my thighs and up my belly until my toes curled and my nipples felt like they might explode.

And she came with me. I felt the tension in her body, the rigidity of her final thrust, and then the trembling as her own release engulfed her.

She held that position, not breathing, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

I held that position, not breathing, my fingers digging into her back and my clitoris flowing.

After some timeless time, I know it couldn't have been as much as a minute because my body DEMANDED oxygen but it felt like a measurable fraction of eternity, we both whooped great gasps of breath.

Another timeless time passed, minutes, hours, I have no idea, while we gasped but our eyes never left each other. She was looking straight down at me and I was looking straight up at her. In many ways, this, well, this afterglow, this interlude before we returned to the world from paradise, was even more intimate than that part of her inside of me or the mess on my belly indicating the ecstasy she had given me.

Finally, she spoke.

"Never think, Kathy," she said, "that because you want to be on top, that because you want to, well, to take a woman, that you're less of a woman."

She kissed me, a quick playful kiss, and moved her hips a little, not thrusting, just moving inside of me.

"Or do you think I'm somehow less of a woman?" she asked.

I laughed, well, I giggled weakly, and said, "No, Nancy, you are all woman."

She smiled and kissed me.

"And you are too," she said, nuzzling my breast and sucking my nipple, not nursing, just playing.

"Oh, God," I said, digging my heels into her ass, pulling her to me, "I'll give you exactly forty-two minutes to stop that," mirroring what she said earlier.

"Only forty-two?" she asked, giggling as she started nipping at the soft skin of my breast. She was nipping hard enough that I wondered if she was leaving little spot bruises but each one sent one of those abrupt little rushes through me.

We lay there for another of those timeless times, sharing little pleasures and pains, alternating between kisses and nips, until finally, she drew a deep breath and very slowly pulled out of me, giving me another fresh sensation as she did so.

As much as I enjoyed what we were doing, it was a bit of a relief. The big adductor tendons high on the inside of my thighs were aching from the awkward position I had been holding and it was a relief to be able to relax and let my legs come together.

"Now," she said, her finger gently rolling my clitoris, lubricating it with the love honey pooled on my belly, "still worried that you felt like a man?"

I laughed at that.

"No, Baby," I said, completely relaxed now, "I think you fucked the male right out of me."

She laughed then, her big belly laugh full of pure mirth.

"Oh, you little bitch," she said, giggling and tugging on my clitoris, "I hope not. You're the only woman I know that doesn't need a strapon to do what we just did."