Not My Type

Babes

Note: This story takes place between two girls who are seniors in high school and have fully reached eighteen years of age.

*

Pfft. Prom night. I leaned against the wall of the gym, one high-heel on the cinderblocks and my head resting against the corner of the wall. Give me a lunch table full of conversing students, and I could fit right in no problem, but dancing, seduction, and running out to the parking lot to sneak a smoke wasn’t my scene.

I looked cute, too. Strapless dark blue satin dress with paler blue lace over it, my waist-long light brown hair cascading down my back, and makeup that I managed to apply myself flawlessly for the first time ever. But I couldn’t bring myself to smile. A few guys had asked me to dance, and I almost complied, but I was not in the mood for leading them on. Guys weren’t exactly my scene either, but few people knew that.

I must’ve zoned out watching the couples sway back and forth “dancing,” because I didn’t notice her come stand beside me. She was definitely not the type of girl I’d go for, not that I knew if she went for that sort of thing. She had shiny jet black hair that was twisted into a million different braids and spirals and secured with red ribbons. Her face was almost ghostly white, and the massive amounts of black eyeliner reached almost to her ears. Fishnets covered her scrawny pale legs, but stopped before the hem of her black lace dress that was more lingerie than prom material. She gave me the once-over and turned her attention back to the dance floor. I was about to walk away until she grabbed my wrist and spoke.

“Word on the street says you swing both ways,” she annunciated perfectly, her surprisingly bright blue eyes darting into mine through the abyss of her makeup.

“Not so much,” I managed to get out, so surprised that she would know I liked girls and that she maybe possibly hopefully felt the same way.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” she mumbled quietly.

Her hand flew from the wall in an attempt to push herself away from my direction faster, but I grabbed her wrist, forcing her to trap me into the corner of the gym with her wrists on either side of my head.

“I meant that I don’t like men,” I plaintively said.

I felt her smile as her lips pressed onto mine and thigh slid between my legs. I wormed my tongue between her teeth and gyrated slowly on her knee. The motion was instinctive; normally, I’d never be so aggressive.

“Let’s dance!” she said quickly, seeing the teachers chaperoning the dance exchanging odd looks and motioning in our direction, clearly debating who to send to break us up.

“Ummm…” was all I could get out before her hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me to the center of the gym. The song was one of those horrible pseudo-R&B hits done by a white girl from Beverly Hills. A drum machine, syrupy güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri voice repeating words like “baby” and moaning more than singing, a solo from a vaguely credible rapper–you get the idea. But, damn, that girl could dance.

I felt too astonished and sexy to be horribly embarrassed as I usually was on the dance floor. She danced around me with her back pressed against my front, she brought both feet off the floor to straddle my hips and still keep in time with the music, she spun me around and stopped me short to plant small kisses on my lips; this girl was amazing.

At the end of the song, she pulled me back to my corner, and we downed the can of Sprite in two gulps, exhausted.

“So, um, that was so much fun, but I really can’t stand one more minute of these other people. I’m gonna go back home, I think.” I said.

“Oh, uh, okay. I’ll see you later?” She sounded like she was trying to cover up disappointment.

“Yeah, sure.” I didn’t think this rebel gothic chick would ever speak to me again, and it showed in my voice.

I reached the double doors of the gym before something possessed me, and I turned around to shout back, “Hey, do you wanna come?”

“Yes!” she half squealed, grabbing my wrist again and pulling us quickly towards the parking lot.

We got into my tiny Toyota without a word, but when I put the turned keys in the ignition and nothing happened, we both exploded in expletives.

“So, um, what do you wanna do?” I asked her after a few more attempts at starting the car. “This piece of shit does this to me all the time. I can call my brother for a ride, I guess, but he won’t want to take you.”

“Let’s just take my car. Come on.”

Five minutes later we were lying in the back of her flat-bed pickup truck pulled onto the shoulder on an apparently deserted back road. I used my arms to pull myself onto the ledge to make way for the multiple fleece blankets she was using to cover the aluminum. When they were spread satisfactorily, she walked slowly over to me and sat her crotch on my knees. She placed her hands on mine, which were supporting me entirely, and bent her head forward to kiss me again. She succeeded for a short time, but soon my clumsiness came into play and we fell off the side of the truck, landing in the ditch. Thankfully it was mostly soft early summer mud and not rocks. Because she landed on top, her dress was unaffected, but mine was covered in the brown mucky stuff. She pulled me to my feet and wrapped her arms around me in what seemed like an embrace, but soon her hands found the zipper to my dress and she hissed into my ear, “Well, we’ll just have to be getting you out of that, won’t we?”

She spun me around and began biting my neck. Not nipping, mind you, but biting–sharp, wet teeth sinking into my güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri pale, curved neck, her breath dancing my increasingly moist skin, her lips kissing the marks she left. Her hands slowly began to un-do the dress’s zipper and her bites spread from my neck to the skin being steadily exposed on my back and became massaging kisses as they got lower.

I’ve never been very vocal, and I’m certainly not one for fetishes, but oh dear god it was the hottest sensation I’d ever felt. I collected my self, mostly, and climbed into the bed of the pickup truck clad only in pantyhose and my heels (my dress was much too form-fitting for normal underclothes, and I’d kind of hoped something like this would happen.) She followed me, staring the whole time looking sexy as all hell.

“Take of your hose,” she half-growled. Quickly, I obliged, not realizing what exactly she was aiming for. I began to walk towards her, but she harshly told me to stop. Confusion grasped me for a moment, but then all was clear.

“Play with your tits.” Embarrassed, I sort of squeezed my left breast half-heartedly, but I gained enthusiasm and actually managed to turn myself on while watching her enjoy the show.

“Stick your finger in your cunt.” I spread my legs, slowly inserted a finger, and began thrusting in and out of myself, moaning and closing my eyes. This went on for several minutes, and suddenly I felt her hot breath on the back of my neck again. Her arms wrapped around my waist and her hands moved mine instead. I felt her breasts squish against my shoulder blades, I felt the soft curve of her stomach at the small of my back, and I felt the curls surrounding her sex against my bare butt cheeks. Waves of pleasure washed over my and my head rolled behind me, against her shoulder. She kissed my lips, my cheeks, my chin, my neck, finally bending her neck to reach my swollen tits. She traced her tongue around the outside of both breasts and slowly spiraled closer and closer to the center. My hands fell out of my pussy as the distractions became too much, and she eased me down to lie on the blankets. Three of her finger replaced my single one, stretching me comfortably. Her long, blood-red thumb nail toyed with my clit, and I began to gasp raggedly. Her full, luscious lips finally reached my nipples and she began to suck, squeeze, pinch, tickle, lick, and bite them, all with her mouth. I closed my eyes and felt a rush of heat towards my sex. Arching my back, I let a silent scream into the night as I reached climax. She stopped what she was doing, but kept her fingers inside me, enjoying the feeling of my tunnel of flesh convulsing on her skin.

I let out a small sound as I came off my high, and saw her licking and sucking my juices off her fingers. Suddenly I wondered what she tasted like. I rolled on my side to face güvenilir bahis şirketleri her; she was lying on her back. I began by kissing her hairline near her temple and slowly moved down towards her ears. I gnawed slightly on the outside, and then breathed a moist, exaggerated breath into her ear. I was pleased to see I could make her tremble like she did to me. I kept moving, sucking on her earlobe, and biting the rounded curve of bone on her mandible. One long lick accompanied by warm breath and soft sound vibration on her neck caused her to close her eyes, tilt her head back, and moan.

Suddenly, I stopped, just to tease her. It took her a few moments to notice my absence, but when she did, those full, pink lips of hers latched onto mine again, and our tongues were dancing in each others mouth. I could taste myself on her teeth; we smelled of sex, sweat, mud, and hairspray. My hands cupped her breasts, and her mouth opened further into mine. I started kneading them with increasing intensity; although she was skinny, her breasts were full, and the nipples large and dark. I could feel them harden underneath my palms, and I began pulling and twisting them, occasionally scraping them with my nails or lightly teasing them with my fingertips to make her shudder.

She broke the kiss, “Please…more,” she said. My hand danced down her stomach and brushed over the soft curls. Unlike me, she didn’t shave her pussy. I started gently tugging and the hairs, and heat radiated from her core. I slid my mouth down and blew cool air, careful not to stimulate her clit. Going oh so slowly, I parted her folds and slid two fingers up and down, hitting her clit only for a moment and only sort of entering her opening. I kissed above the curls, then scraped my teeth against them until I approached her clit. Tentatively, I poked it with my bottom lip and gaining confidence from her reaction began to erratically flick my tongue over it, all the while keeping the motion with my finger up. She thrust her pelvis up, trapping my fingers with her opening. Without protest, I began finger-fucking her, driving my hand up as far as I could every time at an astonishing pace, and circling her tunnel in a spiral motion. Her juices were running down my forearms as sweat coated her body. A heavy gasp escaped from her lips when I began to suck ravenously on her clit once more. Just as soon as I was beginning to think I couldn’t keep the intensity up much longer, she erupted in orgasm. I could feel her muscles contracting and releasing my fingers and I started to lessen my thrusts.

When she was through, I pulled out, but made sure I hit her sensitive, swollen, throbbing clit with my fingers as I did so. She moaned again, and I gave her a small kiss on the lips, letting my tongue lazily enter her mouth. She licked her cum off my arm, hand, and fingers. We were both exhausted and fully satisfied from the intense sex. Soon, we fell asleep somewhat entwined in the bed of the truck, neither of us giving a thought to what are parents would think when they learned we’d spent the whole night out.

Prom night didn’t turn out to be such a bust after all.

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