Francine and me another true romance

[sweet melissa]

I originally wrote this story for a women's magazine I publish. It's a trendy, edgy womens issues mag with lots of music, arts, alternative lifestyle articles and even nude photos. It was initially meant as sort of a coming out as a bi-woman article, but morphed into something a little different.
I was going to attempt to edit it down for content, but thought it best to leave it intact.

Francine and I met as freshmen at a small New England girl's boarding school. Neither of us had ever been away from home before. For the first time in my life, I was in another country unaccompanied by an adult.....and for God's sake, I was only 14 years old and scared to death.
I met Francine at orientation and we it off immediately. As we came to know each other, we joked around, played sports, studied together, and we'd come from not only different countries and different cultures, but were of different races and religions as well. I asked endless questions about her Muslim faith and what it was like growing up a black girl in Asia, and she, in turn, showed interest in my culture and Judaism, even going so far as to attend synagogue once with my family when they came to visit. After the first week, we asked if somehow other girls could be moved around so she and I could be room mates.
At some point during, I think, the first semester, we started flirting with each other and sharing more than friendly occasional hug and kiss. I was attracted to her silky smooth ebony skin and almond shaped eyes that seemed to pierce right through me and seemed, at times, to know what I was thinking before I could get the words out. She was attracted to me, I think, because of my reckless nature and uninhibited and curious attitude toward not only things of a sexual nature, but the world in general. I'm as curious to this day. I have to know everything. How things work, what makes people do the things they do, how one thing that may happen has an effect on everything else ETC. She also seemed to be a natural teacher, and when we discovered that mild dyslexia was the reason for my learning difficulties, she just sort of knew, along with the staff, what to do to help and has been my mentor and never ending support ever since.
I didn't know it at the time but she had never been with another girl before, nor has she since, and my sexual experiences with girls up to that point was a few years before with my cousin, although that continued on and off for a few years, and one school mate who after a lengthy and passionate relationship with me, left me for a boy, besides those there was only one other girl. One who was a little older than me who I didn't particularly like, but loved to do things to me that I'd never had done before.
Francine and I weren't exclusive at first and flirted with other girls as well, and tried experimenting with having sex with them also, although I think that was natural curiosity and a result of being around only girls most of the time, and seeing them showering, in various stages of being undressed, and being exposed to each other in an array of intimate settings. But Francine and I, like magnets, became closer, more flirtatious, more sexually involved and serious.
The first time we went beyond kissing was one night after a get together with some other girls who'd snuck a bottle of vodka onto campus. We were walking back to our dorm when, out of the blue, she grabbed my hand and held it all the way back. When we got there, I excused myself and went to the loo and showered. As I was showering she came in just as plain as day, stripped and entered the same shower stall I was in. Shocked, I screamed for her to leave, but she stayed, unperturbed by my half hearted attempt to send her away, and I knew at that point how the night would end. Although we'd been sexual, I'd never seen her completely naked, and as much as I'd fantasized about how she looked, nothing prepared me for the beauty I was about to behold. She wasn't pretty in the same sense that we think of beauty, she was exotic, even breathtaking, but in a primitive unexplainable way. Perhaps it was the harsh lighting and the way it cast mysterious shadows across her curves or the way the steam from the shower made everything so surreal. Perhaps it was her ebony skin, still so strange a sight to me. But whatever it was, and is to this day, all I had to do was look at her and I was helpless, totally under her spell. As we kissed in the shower, hot water cascading down our young bodies, she started feeling my little boobs, letting her soapy hands glide ever so lightly over and slowly all around them, pausing to pay special attention to my areolas then fingering and kissing my nipples causing them to harden like erasers on the end of a pencil, dispite the heat of the shower. I quickly reciprocated, kissing her passionately, our tongues hot, entwined and searching deeply. All I could think about was how hot her tongue was, how it was probing my mouth and how it would feel doing the same probing and licking between my wet thighs. I was weak and totally imersed in the moment. Nothing else mattered to me except how I could return the pleasure she was giving me. I kissed her as if I couldn't stop, running my hand over every inch of her belly, her ass, her breasts; breasts that were so opposite of mine, large yet firm with skin so soft it felt like warm chocolate melting through my fingers, her nipples like cherries waiting to be devoured, and I the connesuer of conffections, trying with all my strength yet unable to curb my appetite.This went on for what seemed like an eternity. Girls came and went unaware, or so we thought, of the two of us and our passionate liazon in the shower. She teased my pussy with her fingers, bringing them just to the edges, running them ever so gently over my smooth pink lips and down ever so low until they were hovering, ever so slightly touching my ass hole. Then back up, up, up , lightly brushing my clit but never lingering too long or touching too hard, causing me to bend slightly at the knees, giving her access to my pussy and to more easily welcome her probing touch.. When I could take it no longer and needed to finally touch her where I knew I could bring her most pleasure, I slowly let my hand run down her belly and into the nap of course pubic hair that she let run wild all the way up to her navel. As my hand reached the depth and warmth of her cunt, she grabbed it and mummered "no, not now, I'm not ready." What the fuck?? I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Had I done something to offend her? I was a mess. I didn't know what to do or how to react. Gently she held me in her arms as tears streamed down my face mixing with the water and cascading down my tiny breasts and belly and into the drain. "Wh...Why... are y..." I studdered and stamered like a fool, my heart broken and begging for an explanation. "Melissa, this isn't the right time or place to make love for the first time," she said appoligetically. "I'd rather wait until we're in a more romantic setting with more time and fewer chances of being interupted before we go all the way" (her term, not mine). "But," I said, "I've done this before, don't be concerned for me, it isn't my first time." "I know," said Franny, "but it's mine, and I want it to be more special than anything I've ever done."...........................
At some point after the holiday break, the school organized a ski trip for anyone wishing to go. Having always been an adventure seeker and never having been on skis, I immediately signed up. Francine, upon seeing my name on the list followed suit and away we went that weekend for our first proper adventure since coming to The States. We were surprised upon our arrival to find that our hotel was right at the ski area and were further pleased when our room was shown to us that it was on the second floor overlooking the ski slopes. We were soon settled in but because of the early rising that morning, long ride, and anticipated early wake up call scheduled for the following morning, called it an early night falling asleep almost immediately.
The following afternoon, tired from the skiing lessons, snowball fights and attempts to stay warm in the frigid New England wind, we went to our room and decided to go and take a sauna before dinner. All during the sauna I could feel the sexual tension building. Every time I'd look across at Francine, I'd see that she was looking back at me, a hungry devouring look in her beautiful eyes, feasting herself on me. That ever present mischievous smile playing at the edges of her full lips. A few times when looking at her, she'd open her towel and spread her legs apart, giving me a glimpse of those gorgeous brown lips that I'd been longing to have my mouth on, but so far had eluded my advances. And much to my surprise, as well as pleasure, they were now as smooth as silk, the course dense hair that hid them from my view and probing fingers during our many encounters was gone, shaved away, I thought, and flushed down the very drain that my tears had been flushed down only a month or so earlier. God I was excited!. Just looking across the sauna at her while she exposed herself to me in that way was bringing me more pleasure than even the most memorable experiences had up to that point. I wanted her so badly and could do nothing because of the other girls in there with us.
After everyone else left, she came to my side, took my towel from me, dropped hers completely and put both arms around me, kissing me so deeply and passionately that I could, literally, feel myself getting wet between the legs. My cunt was hot for her in a manner previously unfamiliar to me, including the night in the shower. As we caressed and felt each other's breasts, letting our hands wander around to caress even our asses, my temperature rose even further, my cheeks, neck, breasts and thighs burning, flushing, longing for more of her touch. My mouth, open, warm and welcoming with desire for her tongue. Fearful of being caught, as the sauna was available to any of the other hundred or so guests, we wrapped ourselves back up in towels, left, got dressed and walked arm in arm and leaning into each other kissing and giggling back to the warmth of our room. It was, I believe, the longest walk of my life. The surprise when we opened the door was a small bottle of wine. We found out the following day that some of the girls, seeng our reaction to each other in the sauna and having heard rumours of our invlovement with each other, had somehow (illegally, it seemd) procured this treat and delivered it to our room with an accompayning note of well wishes. Laughing and gratefull, (and rather embarrassed) we opened it and let some of it serve its intended purpose which was, we believed, to relax us and make the upcoming event less stressful. Having foregone dinner in turn for a night of ecxtasy, wine was the last thing we needed although we welcomed it and the looseness it provided.
We've all seen movies in which the participants of a passionate tryst throw their clothes all over, landing on any and all sufaces while the two lovers proceed to the bedroom. That's how our room looked about three minutes after we arrived and two minutes after looking for a cork screw, which we found we didn't need as the wine had a twist off cap. Damned cheapskates, the least they could have done was impress us with corked spirits.
The next several hours or so it seemed; we never looked at the clock again until morning, were, until my release from re-hab ten years hence, probably the most passionate and beautiful hours of my life. Going directly to bed and playfully hiding under the covers from each other, we were soon in a passionate embrace, kissing, devouring each other's tongues. As she kissed and stroked my little tits, I returned the favor then for some time until I knew she was ready then slowly found my way down her belly, guiding my fingers to their final destination between her legs. As she felt my hands probing her pussy, she opened her legs, finally welcoming me with heat and wetness into that place of pleasure for both of us that she'd been so reluctant to share. Within minutes my mouth was were my fingers had played only moments ago. I kissed, licked and sucked her while fingering her deeply until she could take no more and brought her to a thundering orgasm. She squealed and carried on, being brought over the edge by waves of extasy, and in the middle of it, brought her own mouth and slender fingers to my pussy and started licking and fingering me simultaniously until I begged her to either stop or take me to the paradise I'd been anicipating for months. I've had my hands and mouth on some beautiful cunts in my life but never anything like what I found that night. Hers was beautiful not in only a visual sense, but it's beauty was in how it felt, how it looked and in its scent. So soft at my touch, so appealing to my eyes, so musky a fragrance. I'd had orgasms of sorts before that night but never anything like that, and certainly never more than one. After we were spent, she told me that she'd never had an orgasm until then. She put her arms around me, kissed me long and amorously then smiled at me with playfulness and tears in her eyes. Tears of joy, pleasure love and satisfaction. We spent the next hour or so sitting at the window naked and wrapped in a blanket cuddling while we drank the remainder of the wine and watched the skiers descend the mountain. Then we went to bed. Another hour passed before we made love again, then finally fell asleep in each other's arms.
Our "friendship" continues to this day. We are both sisters and lovers, bonded forever, it seems, by what we shared so many years ago. We live about three hours apart and see each other as often as we can. We spend holidays and occasional vacations together. I was her maid of honor when she got married, cried at her side when her husband beat her so badly that she was hospitalized, cried tears of joy when her daughter was born, cried even more when her daughter was commited to re-hab at 15 years old. And cheered when she was granted a divorce. She laughed and carried on when I graduated university. Cried when my mother died and when little my sister took her own life months later. Cried when I entered re-hab and cheered me on when I was released.
Are we still "in love" we often ask each other? I suppose so, but the question remains unanswered by both of us. I can't stand to think that the answer might be answers no.......or yes. We make love when we get together and sometimes get together just for that purpose. We still share secrets and carry on like school girls. We aren't exclusive. She's in a commited relationship with a great guy. He, as well as my current boyfriend, knows all about us but can't understand it. I'm in a- not at this point commited -relationship and still, on occasion, find solice and love in other women's arms. Some of whom I may talk about at some point.