There are days in your life that seem insignificant when you live them. It’s only with time that you come to understand their meaning. That’s how it was when I met her. It was a hot summer’s day in Madrid and I was working as an English teacher in a language academy. That day I had to fill in for a colleague and invigilate an end-of-year exam for a class of university students.
After only half an hour, a short-haired brunette girl from the back row raised her hand. I walked over to see what she wanted as she stared at me with her penetrating dark eyes.
“I’ve finished,” she whispered, pointing at her exam paper.
“Already? Are you sure? Don’t you want to use the rest of the time to go over your answers?”
“I don’t need to,” she said with all the confidence in the world and folded her arms. Her body language let me know that it would be pointless to insist so I took her exam paper, went back to my desk, and reviewed her answers. I saw that she had got most of them right.
I thought absolutely nothing of it at the time. She was just another student. I never imagined that one day, several years later, we would meet again in another class. But this time she would be the teacher and I would be her keen apprentice.
That class wouldn’t take place until seven years later when I was living in Barcelona. It was during a time when my desire to sleep with a woman was dominating my fantasies, even though the protagonist of these sapphic fantasies still had no face or name.
It had been a slow process: a desire that had been building up inside me gradually over the years. It all started when I studied fine art and I drew nudes in my life drawing classes as a teenager. I also used to kiss some female friends at university. It didn’t mean anything, though. It used to happen when guys tried to hit on us in clubs and my friends and I were only interested in dancing. We used to tell them that we were lesbians and we started kissing passionately hoping they would leave us alone. Although it often used to have the opposite effect.
My bicuriosity only got serious when I discovered ‘The L Word’- a popular lesbian series. I loved it and for the first time, I decided that it was time to turn my fantasy into reality.
To do this, I created profiles on lesbian dating sites but the only messages I received were from guys or girls who had boyfriends and they were looking for someone to have a threesome with. That didn’t interest me at all; I wanted a duo. Sometimes I got to chat with some other bicurious girls and share our fantasies, but when they suggested meeting in person, I freaked out and our correspondence came to an abrupt end.
After all this I reached the conclusion that maybe it was easier to pursue guys to reach sexual satisfaction. Chasing the desire to sleep with a woman seemed so frustrating and impossible that I ended up almost forgetting about my lesbian fantasies. That was until one day when I least expected it, I received a friend request on Facebook that changed everything.
Although I didn’t recognise the name, the profile picture looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t quite place how I knew her. I took a chance and accepted the request. Upon further inspection when I went through her photos, I suddenly recognised her. It was her: the girl from the exam in Madrid years ago… Back then she was just another student, however, seeing her androgynous appearance now, with cropped hair and multiple piercings, seven years later, I couldn’t help but feel deep desire.
I already had a soft spot for androgynous women, so she seemed perfect to me. And the best thing was that in her photos she always had her arms around a feminine woman, more than one. She certainly didn’t hide her sexuality. After reading her profile description, my suspicions were confirmed: she was a lesbian.
-You won’t remember me… — she wrote to me in the Facebook chat.
-Yes, I remember you. How are you? – I answered right away.
We caught up, even though we had never really had a conversation in our lives. We didn’t even know each other. She told me that she was studying a Master’s degree in Madrid and she was very amused to discover that I had become a sex blogger. It was a big change after being an English teacher.
We began to communicate daily on Facebook, Skype and Whatsapp, as if we were a virtual couple. I couldn’t believe my luck, because she ticked all the boxes of my sapphic wish list… I even thought about her when I masturbated: suddenly the protagonist of my lesbian fantasies had a face and a name.
-Can I confess something? She wrote to me one night on Facebook when I was about to go out to dinner with some friends.
“Sure,” I replied.
-You know when you were a teacher, I was crazy about you…
I felt a sudden rush of butterflies in my stomach when I read her words, but I didn’t know how to answer her. I didn’t think anything of her at all back then in Madrid, but now things were different. In addition, the fact that she had liked me for a long time only fueled my desire for her.
Despite this, I was tongue tied and I did not know what to say and left the chat without answering and went out. But with the help of a few drinks, as soon as I got home later that night, I switched my computer on to send her a message on Facebook:
-I can’t take it anymore, do you want to come to see me in Barcelona? – I wrote.
The next day we start looking at dates as if the ‘declarations’ of the night before had not been made. It was only when I was on the train to the airport that I realised what I was doing. I had invited a lesbian who had been my student for a single afternoon seven years ago to spend the entire weekend with me, and I had never been with a woman in my life! How crazy!
When I got to the airport I panicked when I saw that her plane had landed. I wondered what would happen if I didn’t like her… But when the doors of the arrivals lounge opened and I saw her walking towards me, I felt a mixture of relief and desire. I really fancied her.
She was shorter than me but stronger and I couldn’t help but mentally undress her as we stood in the middle of the arrivals lounge. We greeted each other with two kisses on the cheeks and I noticed her soft skin brush briefly against mine, and her sweet scent but when we pulled away from each other, she was cold and distant.
On the train, on the way home I told her all the things I had planned for the weekend. Not only because I wanted to break the ice, but also because I wanted to show her Barcelona since it was her first time here. I had thought of showing her the typical tourist attractions as well as enjoying a walk along the beach. However, instead of showing enthusiasm upon hearing my plans, she pulled a face.
“Do you mind if we don’t go out tonight? I’m tired after the flight,” she said.
“OK. I can cook you something vegetarian if you want.”
“I love women who cook,” she smiled.
I got even more nervous when we got to my house. Despite the daily contact we had had through a screen before meeting in person, maintaining a conversation with her was incredibly difficult. We were like night and day because we didn’t agree on anything at all. It was becoming more and more apparent that the only thing that united us was our desire to exchange fantasies; hers was to seduce a former teacher and mine was to sleep with a woman for the first time.
Given the tense moments and awkward silences, I was wondering how things were going to develop. Due to my inexperience, I expected her to make the first move… but I knew that the jeans I was wearing would only end up being one more obstacle when the big moment arrived. So, I decided to get changed after clearing the table.
“I’m going to change,” I told her.
“What are you going to wear?” she asked me from the sofa.
“I don’t know, something more comfortable…”
“Don’t wear a tracksuit; I like feminine women.”
“I know.”
I went to my room and put on a black cotton dress, without a bra, and went back to the living room and sat on the sofa next to her.
“Close your eyes,” she said, looking at me intently. I did as I was told and suddenly I got even more nervous, especially when I felt her breath on my cheek. I deduced that her lips were millimetres away from mine.
“Now you can open them,” she said and I opened my eyes, confused and somewhat disappointed because I thought she was going to kiss me. There was another awkward silence but then she leaned even closer to me on the couch and stared at me right in my face with her mouth half-open.
“You’re very close…” I said with a flirtatious tone.
She sighed and suddenly threw herself on top of me and finally kissed me. My heart raced and I returned it with equal enthusiasm. Her lips were so soft, and though it wasn’t the first time I had kissed a woman, it was the first time I had done so with such passion and desire. I hugged her tightly, pressing her firm breasts against mine and suddenly I felt a pulsation between my legs as I imagined what it would be like to see and touch them.
She pushed me down onto the couch and she got on top of me. Now she was the teacher: she was in charge and I was about to have an exam on a subject I didn’t know. I felt completely out of my comfort zone and everything I had experienced sexually up until that point was suddenly irrelevant. I had never experienced anything like it. It was as if I was about to lose my virginity all over again.
I put my hands around her waist and pressed her even tighter against me. She began to move her hand up my thigh and belly to my breasts, and with the other, she quickly took off my dress and began to kiss my nipples softly. I started to pull up her shirt and she helped me and took it off along with her bra, and she threw them to the floor.
I sighed when I saw her perfect breasts: they were pert and bigger than mine. I could have spent hours and hours just admiring and caressing them. Then I discovered the wonderful sensation of feeling her bare breasts against mine, both of us sighing: now only the bottom part was left to unveil…
She removed my panties and I reached down to her waist to unbutton her jeans. She helped me and took them off along with her underwear. Suddenly, we were both naked and we kissed again, holding each other, while she explored me everywhere with her hands. I caressed her body, enjoying the softness of her curves and her skin.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. The sensation totally exceeded my expectations. When she was dressed she was androgynous but naked she was so feminine. It turned me on to see the contrast of her dark skin against my white skin. I couldn’t believe my luck and I thanked fate, and especially Facebook, for letting us meet up again after all these years.
She placed her hand between my thighs and it was such a relief to feel a woman’s delicate and intuitive fingers on my clit. I sighed and lowered my hand between her thighs; it was soft and very wet and I wanted to keep my hand there for a while as I got used to this new sensation. Despite my enjoyment, I just couldn’t get wet. I never usually had issues with lubrication, why now? I wondered.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you turned on?” she asked me as she noticed my dryness with obvious disappointment in her eyes.
I was incredibly aroused; I had rehearsed that moment in my imagination so many times, but it was so overwhelming to actually be living it. Because of my nerves, it was as if I was experiencing some kind of feminine impotence.
“You turn me on big time. If only you knew how much… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry…” I whispered in her ear, trying to comfort her. I didn’t want her to think that I wasn’t enjoying it because she was still exceeding all my expectations.
“Don’t worry because I have enough lubrication for both of us…” she said and started to rub her wet vulva against mine. I sighed at the feel of our labia connecting and the warmth of hers as she lubed me up with her abundant intimate nectar. In no time she began to moan and I felt butterflies in my stomach when I noticed her orgasmic spasms as she rubbed her vulva frenetically against me. Interestingly, I experienced a feeling of enormous satisfaction, without having the need to have my own orgasm.
Afterwards, she collapsed on top of me exhausted; suddenly she was no longer the cold and distant girl from before, she was vulnerable and delicate. I held her tight as I stared up at the ceiling, trying to take in what had just happened, and wanting more. Much more.
This was just the beginning of our story.
(To be continued…)
Read next: The Fantasy Exchange Part Two – The Morning After by Venus O’Hara
