Girls Night Out

Kim and I have been friends for a while. She’s a cute brunette in her early 20s, kind of petite and small framed. She had just broken up with her boyfriend of 2½ years and wanted to go out and really raise some hell. Well, I’m always up for some fun. Friday night – party time! I decided to invite my girlfriend Michele to go with us, though she and Kim had never met. I knew we were in for one wild evening.

I met Kim at her apartment and we took her car to collect Michele. Kim looked absolutely stunning in her mini skirt, crop-top and heels. She’s about 5’2″ and weighs maybe 110 lbs soaking wet. Her breasts are a perky 34B and her dark brown – almost black – hair is cut way short in that Roman style a lot of people are wearing. Her eyes are as dark as her hair. Gorgeous girl. I had on my favourite green silk ‘nothing’ dress – you know, spaghetti straps, very short, deep cut front and back, can’t wear a bra if you wanted to type – black silk t-back panties and a sexy pair of heels. I got to Kim’s door and I thought we were both going to drop our jaws. I know my nipples were standing at attention, and a quick hug from Kim made them try to rip through the silk of my dress.

We climbed into Kim’s car. She didn’t mind driving, besides, mine’s only a little two-seater, so the three of us would be very uncomfortable in that car. Excited about the evening, Kim and I rambled on our way to Michele’s house about how much fun we were going to have. I had a few extra plans in my head that Kim knew nothing about.

Michele answered her door wearing her black silk dress that is almost exactly like my green one. I almost came right there. We exchanged a quick kiss before I introduced her to Kim. Michele is about 5 foot 6 inches tall, 36D – 28 – 34, blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and such a kissable mouth. (BTW, I hadn’t told Michele of my dress choice for the evening.) 

After a few minutes of the “Where Should We Go” game, we first decided that Kim needed a silk dress. Since neither Michele nor I had anything that would fit her, we decided to take Kim to the store where we had purchased our dresses. It was early enough, we had plenty of time to shop. 

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Too Pretty To Be a Lesbian

“But you’re too pretty to be a lesbian.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that ridiculous and infuriating objection from both men and women, and I wouldn’t want to try. What’s even worse is when they follow that up with, “You’re kidding, right, Amy?”

Yes, I’m pretty. I’ll admit it. But why does that mean I’m not a lesbian? Is there some sort of cut-off point? I’m petite, but I’m not flat. I have well-defined curves all over, I’m just small and thin. I have a delicate, young-looking sort of face. I have almost-curly brown hair to my shoulders and hazel eyes. My lips are a little pouty. I’ve taken taekwondo so my arms and legs are muscle-toned. My hips roll nicely when I walk. And, yes, I look pretty damned cute in my braces.

Where in there did I pass the, “Sorry, Amy, you’re not a lesbian anymore,” point?

“Well, you mean you’re bi, right?” some will follow-up.

No, I’m not bi. I don’t hate men, but I can’t get emotionally attached to them the same way, and I’m not attracted to them. Yes, I’ve seen a penis before. Yes, it was erect. No, it didn’t stir some hidden desire inside me.

“Oh, so you’re a virgin.”

No! I’m not a virgin. I am sexually active and in a committed relationship with a wonderful woman my own age.

I will admit, though, that I’m not particularly proud of how I lost my virginity. It was a couple years ago, around the time of my 18th birthday. At the time I was dating Angie, a cheerleader for the high school basketball team. We were seniors and had been dating for a couple of years at that point, but Angie especially was committed to waiting for sex until we could be life partners.

Well, the, “You can’t be a lesbian” stuff was laid on pretty thick in high school. There was plenty of room in people’s imagination for lurid fantasies about cheerleader locker-room lesbo orgies, but the idea of a cheerleader in a committed, basically chaste lesbian relationship was not something anyone in our school could handle. In their minds, Angie and I were just close friends who liked to make believe about being lovers.

A couple weeks after I turned 18, I decided I’d had enough. I still loved Angie, but I needed the world to accept that I was a lesbian, and there was only one way I could think to do it.

I approached a girl named Danielle, a 19 year-old high school senior with an air of exotic maturity about her, as well as a reputation as, well, a dyke and a slut. It was rumored that the only reason she’d finally made it to her senior year at 19 was a dalliance with the female assistant vice principal. I didn’t know if that was true, but her reputation counted for everything.

Danielle was sitting by herself on a bench outside of school waiting for her ride when I approached her. She was attractive, but rebel enough in her look that she didn’t have to put up with people dismissing her lesbianism. She was a gorgeous native Alaskan with creamy porcelain skin of an almost caramel hue, shiny black hair, flinty brown eyes, and an incredible figure. But she also had three nose-rings and a tattoo of a marijuana leaf on the back of her right hand. In Fairbanks that meant she was allowed to be a lesbian.

“Hi, Danielle,” I said, wishing my voice weren’t so sweet and perky.

She looked at me and nodded silently. She knew well enough who I was, but she didn’t really have anything to talk about with me, as far as she knew or cared.

“I need your help,” I told her simply, wishing I’d dressed sexier.

She looked at me questioningly, but still didn’t speak.

No reason to not just say it, I decided. “I need you to take my virginity and I need the world to know about it.”

She narrowed her pretty eyes. “How romantic.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Danielle, I’m sorry. I know this is rude, but I’m sick of no one believing I’m a lesbian. I love Angie, but I need to prove myself.”

“What, you want me to take your ass with a dildo in the gym while a bunch of people watch?”

I blushed even deeper. “Fuck you,” I finally said.

“No, fuck you,” she returned, getting up to walk you. “You’re too insensitive to be a lesbian.”

That burned, and I reeled for days. Then, on Angie’s 18th birthday, I had myself a plan.

My mom was going to be out of town on Friday night, so Angie and I made special plans for me to cook her dinner at my house. I told her to be prepared to spend the night, and while she was hesitant, I insisted that she at least be prepared to stay, even if she changed her mind later. She agreed, and the rest of the week, our hearts were aflutter and our stomachs full of butterflies.

And my spirit was still full of anger and pride. It’s almost painful to remember, but so intent was I on proving myself that I set up two hidden webcams in my house. One in the living room attached to my laptop and the other in my mom’s bedroom, attached to her computer. I even signed up an on-line site where I could post the videos, and used my own full name in screen name. I wanted there to be no doubt.

When Friday evening rolled around, I was excited and nervous all at once. I dressed in a pleated denim skirt with a light blue peasant blouse. Angie had seen my nipples once before and had been captivated by them, so I wore no bra under the lightweight top, which was loose enough that only shadows hinted at the sweet tidbits by which she was enthralled.

When Angie arrived I nearly regretted my plan, because she was such the picture of innocent beauty, but I did want to make love to her badly, and I told myself the video was inconsequential to that. A side benefit. The real point was that we would express our feelings for one another with intimate physical connection.

Angie was not your stereotypical high school cheerleader. That’s not to say she wasn’t gorgeous; she was, by anyone’s standards. But her beauty was more mature. She wasn’t heroine chic and she didn’t walk around showing off her tummy to everyone. She was a normal girl who just happened to be absolutely beautiful. Her face was round, with shining green eyes and softly turned lips, all framed by dark brown curls which hung to her chin. Her skin tanned easily, and was already olive-complected by late April. She was just about six-foot tall. Her figure was in the same proportions as mine, but the extra 10 inches translated to magnificent curves. I was especially enchanted with her thighs, of all things. I loved her in her cheer skit because it showed of her thighs so well. (more…)

My Best Friend

As I awoke it felt as if a freight train was actually traveling through my head. I immediately hugged the pillow again. ‘Too much wine last night’ was the main thought going through my mind. Of course, without all that wine, I probably would not have experienced one of the best nights of my life. Despite the freight train rattling around in my head, I smiled as I closed my eyes and relived what had happened just a few hours ago. The memory brought some relief.

When I came home from work yesterday, Josh, my boyfriend of 10 months, was sitting on my porch waiting for me. I ran up to him and tried to give him a kiss, but he pushed me away and told me we had to talk. Warning bells went off. Did he lose his job? Did someone die? Looking miserable, he sat back down on the porch swing. Giving him a moment to compose himself, I joined him on the swing.

“Baby, you know I love you. This is really hard for me to tell you this.”

He took my hand in his. He looked to be in agony. My thoughts went to his grandmother, who we both loved with all of our hearts. Did something happen to her?

“Is it Granny?”, I asked with rising panic in my voice.

“No..no..I …shit, hon. This isn’t working, me and you. I love you, I swear I do.. but…”

I went half numb with shock. I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with Josh. He tried to explain why he couldn’t be with me any longer. “. No matter what he said, the words “We are through” was all I could hear. He tried to ease my shock some, no doubt, but in the end, he simply walked off of my porch and out of my life.

I sat there staring into space for a while, the reality not really hitting home. As I stood up and walked into my now “empty” house, overwhelming pain seized me along with denial. I looked around and some of the memories of our relationship began to relive themselves in my imagination. I needed to blank this pain out.

I went inside and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. I laughed ironically, remembering that we had bought this bottle together, planning on toasting mushy sentiments to each other in front of the fireplace one evening. Anger began to well up inside me now – “Well.. fuck.. I can’t let this go to waste now, can I?” I had started the fire and drank from the bottle as I stared into the flames. I must have sat there for hours, ignoring everything but the sweet warm liquid as it erased my pain and reduced the anger temporarily.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and dropped the bottle. For a split second I thought that maybe Josh had had second thoughts. Turning around, I saw my best friend Cheri close to me. She took one look at my face and dropped to her knees, pulling me close to her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, she had asked so softly, her question tinged with fear.

I couldn’t talk; reality came swarming back. The tears that I had so successfully managed to hide for the past few hours suddenly surfaced again. I just curled into her, feeling so small as she wrapped her arms around me.

“Talk to me, hon. – I saw your lights on but you did not answer your phone. I was so worried.”

She told me that she had let herself in with the key I had given her because I had not answered her knocking at my door either.
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Three Horny Girls

Shawn was the first to arrive at the resort. She wore a short, tight red skirt that revealed her slender, caramel legs and her perfectly shaped ass. Her ample breasts nearly poured out of her low cut, sleeveless white blouse. Her red pumps were nearly eight inches tall. She checked herself in and sat down in the lobby. She began to reminisce on the conversation she had had with her two best friends the weekend before. “I can’t wait to see you guys. I can’t believe it has been two years since we have seen each other,”she had remembered telling Lisa and Renae on the phone. The girls had each landed jobs in different states right after college graduation, and hadn’t seen each other since. They were really looking forward to their week together.

“Damn, I am twenty minutes early,” thought Shawn, “I can barely wait to see my girls.” Just then, a beautiful, chocolate complexioned young woman walked through the door of the lobby. “Shit, that’s Lisa,” thought Shawn, “When did she get so fine?” Lisa was wearing tight fitting black leather black pants and a spaghetti strapped black tank with black heels. Shawn jumped from her seat to greet her friend, but to her surprise, another young woman walked through to door. “Great,” she thought, “Renae has perfect timing.”

“She looks so hot in those white stretch jeans and that blue spandex top.” The girls greeted each other in the center of the lobby, hugged and headed to find their room. They had decided to share a room, they thought it would be cheaper and more fun to bunk together.

When they entered their room, they were delighted to find a large Jacuzzi and huge king sized bed waiting for them. They decided the first thing they would do would be trying out the beautiful Jacuzzi. “I’ve got an idea,” said Shawn. “Do you girls remember how we used to skinny dip in college? We could do that now for old times sake. How ’bout it?” Lisa and Renae agreed that it might be fun so they stripped off their clothes and hopped in the Jacuzzi.
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Cherries

“Let me guess,” the bartender asked, setting the glass of water in front of me. “You’re here looking for some company.”

She stared at me expectantly, a slight smile on her glossy-pink lips. I smiled ruefully at her, taking a sip of the icy liquid. “Gee, what gave me away?” I meant it sarcastically, because anyone in the bar could see what I was after, especially another woman. The little black dress gave me away, one of those sparkly knit gowns that clung to every curve, just short enough to make you appreciate a hint of thigh and wonder just how far my legs went up. Or maybe it was the heels, best described as “fuck me” pumps in glossy black patent leather. Combined with the carefully arranged hair and the makeup, I made quite a package for some lucky male to pick up. Problem was, the bar seemed devoid of lucky men, save for a few older men who knew better than to press their luck.

The bartender shrugged and proceeded to polish some glasses while talking with me. “Well, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and I assume you’re here on business. So your partner isn’t here, and you’re looking for a little entertainment to pass a holiday that’s best not spent alone. Especially here in Las Vegas, the city of sin herself,” she laughed. I was amazed, because she really had hit my situation right on the nose. I was here to teach seminars to new real estate recruits, and was miles away from my husband. Not that being home on Valentine’s Day would have mattered anyway, because the bastard would probably be wooing his mistress on the side. Our marriage had deteriorated down to one simple fact: I wasn’t divorcing him because it would cost me too much hard-earned cash. So he played his field, and I played mine, and we basically put up with each other.

“Pretty much right,” I acknowledged, raising my water glass to her. “How’d you know?”

“Past experience,” she confided. “I was sitting in this very bar about three years ago for the same reason, and the bartender working then asked me the same thing.”

“And did you find what you were looking for?” I asked. She found this very funny, exploding in a sudden peal of laughter that had me raising my eyebrows. “Oh, I found it alright,” she grinned. “A nice little lass from the front desk took me home with her that night, and introduced me to a whole better ballgame.” I nearly choked on my water at her answer, staring at her with slight shock. This bartender really didn’t seem the lesbian stereotype. She wasn’t masculine in her features, and she didn’t seem like some of the feminist lesbians I’d known in college.

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Initiation Night

Julie Gates was in her glory. All she’d ever wanted since she came to State College was to be a Delta. Her mother, and her grandmother, had been in the Delta sorority, and to this day it remained THE sorority to belong to. It was initiation night.

The sisterhood was tight. Secrets never left the house. Help was always seconds away if you were in a jam and professors went a little easier on the Delta girls. Life was good. Julie couldn’t wait for the ceremony, the details of which were kept a closely guarded secret. Not even her mother would discuss the ritual with her. All she knew is she would have the ceremonial robe laid out on her bed for her at 9pm that evening.

Only 4 girls were being inducted in to the house. Julie’s room mate Gina, and 2 girls that lived on the first floor of the house as well, Amy and Carlie. There were 21 sisters that would be at the ceremony, Julie and the other pledges would round out the 25 that made the house complete.

At 9 pm there was a knock on the door. Julie and Gina looked at each other anxiously.

Julie’s big sister Ashley opened the door. Big sisters took a pledge under their wing and guided them through to initiation night. Ashley said nothing, she simply laid the white robe on the bed neatly and made her exit. Gina’s big sister Donna did the same thing not 5 minutes later. The girls looked at the robes. They were beautifully laced with gold trim and the Delta insignia.

A soft noise drew the girls attention to the door. A note had been slipped underneath, folded just once. Gina picked it up and read it out loud to Julie.

“You must be in the attic wearing nothing but your ceremonial robe at 9:30pm. Your hair must be worn away from face in ponytail style. Wear no make up, perfume or jewelry. Do not be late.”

Julie drew a deep breath. “I was wondering if we were supposed to be naked under the robe.”

“Well,” Gina replied, “I’m not going naked. How will they know? It’s no ones business what I’m wearing underneath.”

With eyebrows raised Julie whispered to Gina. “I would do just as the note says. You don’t want to mess this up.”

Gina didn’t respond. She simply took off the shirt and shorts she was wearing and slid the robe on over her bra and panties. There was no way anyone was going to see her pudgy body making lumps in the robe. Gina had always been a little heavy and self conscious of anyone seeing her naked. She rarely dated just from fear of a boy making fun of her once her clothes were off.

Julie however did as instructed. Being modest, she turned away from Gina and stripped down to nothing. She loved the cool, soft feel of the silk garment covering her skin. She tied the belt loosely into a knot to keep it closed.
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The Sauna

Heather wiped the sweat off her damp face with a small white towel while accompanying her work out partner back to the locker room. Having been her exercise buddy for the past year, Ashley knew her well and understood her need for encouragement, thus congratulating her on a good set.

They decided that in honor of their 1 year “fitness anniversary” they would treat themselves to a private sauna followed by frozen yogurt. Affording it would be no problem of course, being that they were both extremely successful despite their ages.

The man at the counter didn’t give a second glance when they purchased the private sauna for 2 time slots. After all this was a very classy, upscale sports club and no assumptions of any kind were to be made about any guests. The funny thing was, a great number of guests did in fact enjoy “renting out” the totally private luxury saunas for hours at a time. And in all actuality everyone, both employee and guest was quite aware of the private sauna possibilities.

Heather and Ashley had no such intention however and truly were just wanting to celebrate their year of hard work together. Back in the locker room they undressed, toweled up, and headed for the match to their key: PS7 (private sauna 7). Ashley unlocked the windowless door and held it open for Heather who stepped inside, holding her towel on her body up with both hands. They found themselves in a teeny tiny entryway to yet another door, this time with a window which opened with the same key. This next room was the sauna…. a great beautiful wooden room with thick long benches attached to the walls. Ah, what a treat!! Heather made a comment about how they deserved it; her friend agreed.

With that Ashley released an enormous groan as she stretched her arms upward and outward then let them fall at her sides. Heather, feeling a little self-conscious (although enjoying the luxury of a private sauna) sat on a bench and stiffly leaned in a sitting position against a wooden paneled wall, closing her eyes. Ashley, being somewhat of an exhibitionist and determined to enjoy the privacy she had helped pay for (and wanting to make her friend feel at ease) let her towel fall to the floor. Deep down, a part of her really wanted to see Heather naked, not so much to compare to her own body, but just to see what she really looked like without all of those baggy clothes. She felt pretty sure that she had awesome legs b/c even with the baggy shorts, she could see how tan and smooth and muscular they were, at least from the lower thigh down.

Heather tried desperately not to pop her eyes open as she heard the sound of Ashley’s towel crumpling onto the wooden floor. The next sounds she heard were of her friend adjusting her body onto the wooden bench across from her and laying down followed by another relaxed moan.

Heather took this opportunity to glance sideways through slightly slit eyes over at Ashley’s incredible body. She was truly amazed. Never had she realized just how well that woman took care of herself. Her lightly bronzed skin was taut, slick, and shiny over her perfect form. Little beads of sweat hung carefully at every crevice. Her blond hair, thick and healthy hung hot and limp off the side of the bench. With her eyes closed, she was nearly the image of an angel. Wondering if perhaps, her companion was asleep, she took the opportunity to shed her own towel, but very slowly, watching cautiously, so as not to awaken her friend. She took a moment to revel in this newfound freedom, this daring, totally exposed feeling of nakedness…. nakedness in front of another person! Her body began to increase a little in temperature, and in the depth of her mind she wondered some if perhaps it wasn’t just the heat of the sauna affecting her.
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Sorority Party

My best friend Dee belongs to a sorority. They were having a party tonight and she invited my new boyfriend Brian and I. Not that anybody really needed invitations to a sorority beer bash.

Brian picked me up dressed in jeans and a green shirt, looking almost exactly like he did when I first bumped into him. I would have to do something about his wardrobe. I had dressed to kill. My red mid-length skirt was slit to my waist. My black silk blouse was backless and cut to my navel in front. My braless tits bounced seductively as I moved.

Brian was speechless when he saw me. I planned on surprising him later when I revealed that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I was having way too much fun being the aggressor in our budding relationship.

I spotted Dee as soon as we got there. Dee is shorter than I am, but much more voluptuous. Although she has perfectly huge tits, her waist is relatively narrow. Her hips and ass are five pounds away from being too big. Her dark brown hair and wide, innocent brown eyes have been the undoing of many frat boys.

“Amanda!” she squealed.

We hugged, having to shout to be heard over the music. I introduced her to Brian, whom she also hugged. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, and I assumed he wasn’t used to strange women giving him hugs, let alone one this pretty. I elbowed him good naturedly to remind him that I was his date for the evening, and that I wasn’t exactly chopped liver. My cornsilk blonde hair is long and straight, which accentuates my pale blue eyes. I’m taller than Dee, standing 5′ 8″. My curves are more proportionate than hers. I have a perky C cup with a nice, round ass.

I went to get beers for Brian and I. The woman pouring drinks looked me up and down. Dee had warned me that there were a few lesbians in the sorority. She was very attractive, although a bit masculine. She was slightly taller than Brian, with dark brown hair and an angelic face. Her trim, athletic figure was clothed in jeans and a deep red shirt.

“Well, don’t you look fine tonight, honey,” She said.

“Thanks,” I replied uncomfortably. I could feel her gaze on my back as I made my way to the dance floor.

I was right about Brian’s lack of dancing skills. A number of guys tried to cut in as we danced. A couple of them were pretty hunky, and all of them had big egos. I got a kick out of turning them all down.

Hours later, and more than a few beers, I was in the mood for some dirty dancing.

“Can I use your room?” I asked after I cornered Dee. She lived in one of the house’s rooms on the second floor.

“What for…oh!” She said, blushing. “You mean right now? With Brian? While the party is going?”

“I haven’t been laid in almost a month,” I pouted. “I’m horny and I’m afraid we’ll both be too drunk to do it if I wait.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “But only if you do my laundry tomorrow. I’m not going to sleep those sheets.”
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Ooops I Lost My Bikini Bottom

I might as well quit!

I sat in the changing room of my boss’s pool house, face in my hands, crying to myself. I had been half way up the pool’s ladder, just the lower half of my legs in the water when the hip ties of my bikini came undone. I hadn’t felt it at first and continued my climb. But the breeze on my exposed sex and the hoot from several of the guys in the pool let me know I was in trouble.

I had tried to put it back in place but all I could do was hold the fabric against my pubic hairs. I ran for the change room and here I sat, crying.

“Shannon, open the door.”

It was the boss’s wife Sharon, asking again to let her in.

“Shannon, hun, come on. Bill’s taken the rest of them inside.”

I leaned over and undid the lock, sitting back down with the towel over my lap. Sharon slipped in, closed the door, and locked it. She put her arms around me and I cried into her shoulder. I’m not a terribly innocent child but there were plenty in the pool that I didn’t want to see my pussy.

Sharon whispered into my hair, stroking my shoulders and back. It felt nice.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sssh, no need for apologies, it was just an accident. One that few are going to forget but still just an accident.”

I looked up into her face and saw her smile. I gave a little laugh too. I pounded one fist onto my knee “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Sharon gave me another hug. “Quit killing yourself. The guys all got excited, some of the girls too I think and the gals that didn’t, well, they gave their guys a good thump!”

Another chuckle.

“In fact, I don’t Bruce is going to get any from his wife for some time to come. She’s so mad, the water turned to steam around her!”
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Sapphic Stewardess

I had just completed my sophomore year in college. I grew up in Boston and had spent my entire life in New England. Now I was attending one of those prestigious but rather prim ‘seven sister’ colleges of which my mother and my two older sisters were both alumni. And that was after years at a dreary preparatory school my mother, too, insisted I attend. After all, mother, grandmother before her, and my two sisters had gone there and it was another of those absurd ‘family traditions’ to which they insisted I, too, adhere. While in some ways it is advantageous to grow up privileged, as I had, it can also be very stifling. Especially in that austere world of the New England aristocracy. We were all so damned ‘civilized’ that sometimes I wanted to puke. Often when your upbringing is overly refined and ‘proper,’ as mine was, one’s imagination becomes very fertile. One dreams of wallowing in more tawdry terrains, of transgressing the bounds of propriety, of deviating sharply from the expectations of polite society… of being free and wild! And this is especially true in the sexual domain where three centuries of Puritanical influence have had their effect on the sexual climate of the region and, in particular, its more ‘proper’ denizens.

Now that I was in college I was better able to exercise that freedom I had so long sought — but only to an extent. For the ‘prestigious’ New England four-year women’s college in many ways only continues the constraints of the kind of childhood I had experienced. Freedom was still stifled, now not only by an old-fashioned puritanism, but by a new form of shrill puritan body of belief — a pervasive feminism which insisted, no less than the pulpit, that only certain beliefs and behaviors were ‘proper’ for a woman. And so, still, I longed for the open, unfettered, spacious freedom I had so long sought. A freedom where I wouldn’t have to constantly conceal my needs and desires from others who would think them inappropriate.

And naturally, as is the case with so many women my age, the freedom I was especially eager to taste at this stage of my life was sexual freedom.

You see, I am blessed (or cursed, some would say) with a intense, sometimes rapacious libido. I was aware of this from the first early simmering moments of my sexual awakening. My girlfriends had long regarded me as being ‘boy crazy’. My chronic yearning for pleasures that could be achieved with the opposite sex — and with one’s own fingers! — had grown steadily to the point where I can now honestly and unabashedly claim that I am quite thoroughly addicted to sex. It’s probably not too much of an exaggeration to say that I am addicted to my own surging, volcanic libido. Maybe one day if this gets out of hand I’ll need to visit one of those Sexaholics Anonymous chapters and confess to my many excesses. But for the time being I am more than happy wallowing in and gorging on hefty doses of uninhibited eroticism.

So the plans I had made for this summer excited me with their prospects. I would be working as a waitress in the dining room of a very expensive and luxurious Wyoming dude ranch. One of my friends in college, Beth, was from Wyoming and had already worked at several of the area’s ranch resorts during high school and college, for several summers now. Through her efforts I was able to obtain a summer job out there, in dude ranch country.

Beth had often regaled me with tales of the kind of easy freedom and looseness people out West seemed to enjoy, so very different from my own rigid upbringing amidst the cotillions and country clubs of New England. Now I was eager and curious to experience that kind of world for myself.
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