[FF] I ate my college frenemy’s pussy like my life depended on it.

In college, I had a bit of a mean girl streak. To be fair, I still do, and now that I’m approaching my late twenties I’m trying to act more mature and be more empathetic / give more people the benefit of the doubt, but when I was 19 years old I’ll admit I was kind of the worst. I was stuck up about basically everything, from my looks to my body to my SAT scores (which btw if any teens are reading this, nobody gives a shit about your test scores the **second** you step foot on campus so don’t talk about them).

I still cringe remembering how much I bragged about myself at that age.My friend group at the time only made me even more of a brat. We were all in the same semi-academic sorority (closer to a secret society tbh), most of us graduated from the same prep schools and had scored summer internships at the same banks/tech companies, and all of us were thin and good-looking. We thought we were both the hottest and smartest girls on campus, and we were often rude to girls that we thought were “beneath” us.

**Hannah** (not her real name obviously) was definitely one of those girls that would never have made the cut to join my clique. I probably would have bullied her if we’d met in a different context. We were both just 19, but Hannah already had the body shape of a mom in her thirties who drinks too much wine. She wasn’t chubby per se, but between her plain face, small tits and her wide-yet-flat ass, I felt confident that I was about a thousand times hotter than her. Despite being pre-med with a neuroscience focus, Hannah wasn’t a particularly clever conversationalist or that interesting to talk to, but she was fun, more of a spontaneous free spirit whereas I’ve always been uptight. She was also confident and adventurous and introduced me to so many things: weed, hallucinogens, kink….

I met Hannah through my boyfriend at the time. He and I had nothing in common, but I was dating him because he was premed and came from a wealthy family. I was status-obsessed back then, in case you couldn’t already tell, and although I wasn’t sexually attracted to him at ALL, I liked being A Popular Rich Guy’s Girlfriend. I was also lowkey trying to get my MRS degree and become a doctor’s wife, which never happened, but that’s a different story.

Anyway, my boyfriend and Hannah were both premeds and were both studying for the paramedic exam. The first time I met her was at one of their aspiring paramedic studying kickbacks where nobody really actually studies and everyone just gets wasted in the library after midnight.I was taken aback by how warm and friendly Hannah was in comparison with the girls in my clique. As soon as I arrived at the library, she was like, “Wow, you’re [REDACTED]’s girlfriend? You’re so pretty!”.

The compliments kept flowing as we got progressively drunker and the library grew emptier. “Your stomach is so flat!” “I’d kill for your cup size” etc… Typical drunk-girls-complimenting-each-other dialogue, but it felt sexually charged, which was new and exciting for me. Soon, we were sitting in one of the library’s comfy armchairs and talking about our boyfriends (hers was long-distance) and sharing a vodka-Gatorade with our legs tangled.

My boyfriend got too drunk and had to go home early to puke, and like the self-centered asshole I was, I didn’t even bother to check to see if he was okay.To be honest, I barely noticed when he’d left the party; I was too focused on how good it felt to be crammed into that armchair with Hannah. My thigh was pressed against hers, I could feel her warm breath on my face. At one point during the party she was like “wow, your waist is so tiny” and then, with two fingers, she started stroking my waist and lower ribcage as if to emphasize her point.

My body reacted to her touch in a way that it almost never did with my boyfriend, at least not right away. Instant heat between my legs, instant shallow breathing, instant shame. Growing up, my family was religious and homophobic, and although I’d known I was bisexual since puberty, I still experienced strong feelings of shame and guilt whenever I felt physically aroused by the touch of another woman. Internalized homophobia is a hell of a drug.

I started yelling at myself in my head for getting wet, which I was pretty sure I was, and particularly for getting wet because of Hannah, who wasn’t ugly but wasn’t exactly cute either. She’s barely touching you, I told myself. She probably isn’t even flirting, she’s just being friendly. If you’re wet right now that’d be sooo pathetic…Of course, when I went back to my dorm alone that night and took off my panties, they were soaked. I knew I’d guessed it correctly: a few hours of drunk chatting and cuddling with some girl I’d just met had gotten me very, very wet. I was ashamed and embarrassed and wiped myself off with a hand towel and then tried to get to sleep, but the ache in my pussy was too distracting so I ended up masturbating. My orgasm was powerful enough to knock me out. I slept VERY well.

In lecture the next morning, I texted Hannah. Of course I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I would never have hung out with Hannah publicly because it would have been social suicide, but I quickly developed a big crush on her and spent the rest of the Fall semester inventing reasons to invite myself over to her dorm and smoke weed. We’d get high and cuddle and talk about our boyfriends. She’d met hers in high school and missed him now that he was in college on the other side of the country, but she wished he’d open their relationship so she could explore her sexuality on campus.

“It sucks being surrounded by all these hot guys and not being allowed to do anything about it,” she said jokingly. “I haven’t gotten laid since summer break.” After several of these smoke sessions, I eventually admitted to Hannah that my boyfriend was very attentive and kind but I still wasn’t very sexually attracted to him. She found that shocking, because he was tall and ripped and “any girl would love to fuck a guy with a body like that,” which only amplified my internalized homophobia and shame. I remember wondering if I even liked the male body at all. I honestly spent wayyyy more time thinking about the bodies of my female friends than thinking about my boyfriend’s body.

I got defensive and told her, “No, no, you don’t understand, the sex is good, his body just does nothing for me like, visually, you know? But the sex is excellent. He gets me off every time.”I wasn’t lying. Sex with my boyfriend was really good. Although I was indifferent to his tall, firm, gym-perfected body, he was an unusually generous lover for a 20-year-old male and he almost always made me come with his fingers and/or tongue before he penetrated me, which I adored.Hannah seemed surprised that my boyfriend regularly ate my pussy and told me that she was “jealous” because her boyfriend didn’t like to do it.

“Why doesn’t he like eating you out?” I asked. By this point, I was already fantasizing about eating Hannah’s pussy myself, so I was subtly asking to check if she had some sort of infection or something. At 19, I was too young to understand that a lot of men simply hate going down on perfectly clean and healthy women, so I thought that there had to be a serious medical reason why her boyfriend wouldn’t do it.

Her voice got quiet. “He just doesn’t like it. I don’t know.”

“But it’s so easy!” I giggled nervously. “I mean like, I’ve only eaten a girl out like twice, so I’m not a pro or anything, but my boyfriend makes it look easy.” Then my stomach dropped because I was suddenly worried that she’d pry into my earlier sexual experiences with women, which were mostly cringey clumsy summer camp hookups that I tried not to think about too much. I also worried she’d tell my clique that I’d fucked girls before. They weren’t homophobic or anything but I didn’t like the idea of them knowing that about me. It didn’t fit my image on campus, I guess.

“How does your boyfriend make it look easy?” Hannah asked. She didn’t seem surprised at all by the fact that I’d just admitted to eating pussy before. Most people think I’m straight when they first meet me, but I guess her gaydar was better than most.

“Um, he like, uses his lips I guess? Like lips and tongue, sort of at the same time.” I nearly added, *I could show you if you want!* In that moment, I think I sort of understood what it felt like for men when you want to fuck a woman who isn’t particularly beautiful or sexy or likeable, but she’s still a woman and so you’re desperate to fuck her. That’s how I felt about Hannah. I didn’t particularly like her, but I suddenly wanted to eat her pussy so badly that I couldn’t think about anything else.We locked eyes.

The mood in her room had changed; I think we both knew that we were going to fuck, but I was too timid to make the first move. She pulled me gently towards her and kissed me, and then I was kissing her back, energetically and with more tongue than was probably necessary. I was only 19 years old, but and what I lacked in experience I made up for in pure eagerness and hormones. I flipped the light switch by her tiny dorm-regulation single bed and in the new semidarkness I pressed her body against the wall and kissed her even more deeply. She gasped when I moved my thigh between her legs, but then she started grinding her pussy against it.

She was wearing shorts and a tank top, no panties, I think? I can’t even really remember because I had her naked within seconds. She unhooked my bra one-handed. I was proud of my tits, which are DDs and both perky and big, and I was used to men complimenting me on them, but she didn’t say anything about my body. Even though we were kissing, she was being very quiet in a way that made me insecure. I wanted to make her moan or whimper, wanted that auditory confirmation that I was pleasing her, so I lowered my face to her neck and trailed kisses down to her navel.

Then I looked up at her, and, with my heart pounding and hands trembling, I said, “I really want to go down on you. Is that okay?”

That finally got a reaction out of her. Her eyes wide, she inhaled shakily and murmured, “Yeah, you can if you want.”

I could tell that she was trying to act nonchalant, but she was trembling, too, and her pupils were dilated. *She wants this, too,* I thought.

I put my hand against her bare pussy, which both looked and smelled really good, and started tracing her slit up and down with my fingers, very slowly and softly until she let out a whimper. Hearing Hannah moan filled me with pride. I’ve always been a people pleaser and sex is no different, every pleasured reaction that I can draw out of my partner feels like getting a gold star on a test. It was like a drug, I needed to hear more.

I lowered my mouth to her pussy and kissed the outer lips very gently. That made her shudder. I kissed her pussy again, a bit more firmly this time, and she said, “Don’t just stare at it, eat it,” which is a line from American Psycho, this old movie that we’d recently watched together stoned. We both started giggling, which was good to help ease the tension and make me less nervous.No longer trembling so much, I bent my head down and started eating her pussy in earnest.

I tried to tease her to build up her pleasure, but I was still a teenager and characteristically impatient so I didn’t tease her for very long. I kissed and gently bit her inner thighs, which made her whimper, and then I made my tongue as soft and flat as I could and licked her very slowly and firmly from her wet entrance up to her clit and back again.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped. “Do that again. It’s so good.”

The people pleaser in me was delighted to get this gold star of approval. I gave her another long, slow lick up her slit, thinking about how she didn’t really taste like much of anything. Why did her boyfriend hate eating her pussy so much? I couldn’t understand it. I was having a great time!

She moaned wordlessly and spread her legs. I took this as encouragement. I put my face right up against her pussy and, with my mouth closed, I spread her wetness across her clit using only my lips. I knew her cum would ruin my lipstick (my clique had a red lipstick every day rule, very Mean Girls of us) but I didn’t care, I just wanted to please her.

Stroking my face distractedly, she murmured, “Oh my god, you’re so good at that, sweetie. Don’t stop.”So I continued rubbing my lips closed-mouth against Hannah’s pussy, which is the technique my boyfriend often used on me, as she moaned soft words of pleasure and encouragement. My own pussy was on fire. My clit was throbbing. I thought about grinding myself against her leg for some relief, but decided against it — I really wanted to focus on making her cum, and I didn’t trust myself to be good at it if I was actively getting myself off.

She told me she’d probably take a long time to come. I told her I didn’t care. She turned on a Spotify playlist that was probably at least half an hour long, and I ate her pussy the entire time while she gasped and shuddered and whispered, “good girl” and “sweetie” a lot, which made me wetter than I’d ever been in my life. I don’t know if I have a degradation kink or a praise kink. Maybe both? At one point she was actually riding my mouth, humping my lips and tongue in a way that was sort of like girl-on-girl facefucking, and I still masturbate to that memory even though it was 7 years ago.

I liked how degrading it felt to have her wetness smeared all over my face. I would never have let my boyfriend cum on my face, because it just would have made me feel bad, but with Hannah it felt simultaneously humiliating and tender. The contrast of the praise/instructions (“Fuck, sweetie, that’s so good, you’re being so good for me, can you just move your tongue a bit higher?”) and my own shame at eating the pussy of a girl that I’d probably have bullied under other circumstances got me so turned on.(Weirdly enough, I didn’t think about my boyfriend at all during this. **I felt no guilt for cheating on him whatsoever.)**

After maybe twenty or thirty minutes I fell into a zone where I wasn’t really thinking about anything except making Hannah come. She told me exactly how to use my lips and tongue on her and I did precisely what I was told. Her verbal encouragement made me even more eager to keep pleasing her. I could have done it for hours. She screamed and bit the inside of her arm when she came.

Watching Hannah orgasm filled me with a confusing combination of shame (“I can’t believe I ate a girl’s pussy, I’m so fucking disgusting, I hate myself”) and pride (“I’m actually kind of good at this!”). As she came down, I gently kissed her pussy while she played with my hair. I suddenly felt too shy to look up at her or talk to her. I concentrated on her pussy instead. Her pubic hair was a bit stubbly (free exfoliation, I guess) but she smelled and tasted so sweet. Almost like she’d sprayed herself with body mist.

She later told me that she’d showered and shaved her pussy right before I came over to smoke because she knew she’d easily be able to convince me to eat her out. She thought I was, and I quote, “a done deal.” And I suppose I was/am. I’ll make men wait months to fuck me, but when it comes to women, I’m kind of a slut. I never would have sucked a guy’s cock for 45 minutes if he hadn’t put any effort into planning dates and the entire relationship consisted of smoking weed on his fire escape, but for Hannah, I obediently did whatever made her feel good.

After a few minutes of me awkwardly kissing her now post-coming sensitive pussy, she pulled me back up to kiss me on the lips. We made out for a while, and then we stopped and started joking around like normal stoner friends again. Normal except for an ache between my legs that wouldn’t go away…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/pabcb6/ff_i_ate_my_college_frenemys_pussy_like_my_life