Some people are aware of being attracted to the same sex early on, for others there’s a gradual realisation, and for others still there’s an ever-changing scale of gayness which varies throughout their lives. Me? Well, I’d genuinely never thought about women in that way before I saw Leah, and then it hit me like a thunderbolt.
I was working backstage at London fashion week, and suddenly I saw her. Through a spiky sea of heavily-stylised skin and bones, she stood out like a lush, natural oasis of fertility and fecundity. “My Nubian princess” I thought to myself, like it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be thinking like that – like it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be talking to myself about another woman like that.
In that instinctive way that no-one can ever explain, Leah must have felt me staring at her, as she suddenly looked straight up, directly into my eyes. She commanded my vision and I was mesmerised: it was as if the world stood still. The stress of our surroundings just disappeared, and it was me and Leah, just the two of us. And then the spell was broken – someone called my name, and I turned to focus on something else.
Nevertheless, despite the frantic environment and my busy workload, over the next couple of hours I was hyper-aware that just across the room was my sexual siren. It might sound crazy, but at this point I hadn’t even registered that Leah was female instead of my usual tall, dark and handsome – male – type, I just knew that I was already hers. And I ached for her deep inside to the very core of my being.
In the end it was she who approached me: “Hi”, she said, “I’m Leah.” I was obviously so incapable of any rational response that she took me by the hand and made to leave. Thankfully I had the sense to grab my workbag with my free hand, and I slung it over my shoulder as Leah sped up the pace. Weaving amongst the dispersing crowd of fashionistas, we headed outside, our fingers entwined. I still hadn’t spoken.
Once out in the busy London street, we paused.
“Coffee? Booze? Dinner?” Leah asked.
I swallowed, my mind a blank. “You”, I answered unthinkingly.
At that, Leah leaned in and kissed me, full on the lips. Suddenly, above the usual city smells I could smell Leah’s hair, her skin, her scent, and taste the flavoured lip-gloss on her mouth. I melted into her kiss, our tongues touching, exploring, tasting further. She broke away to pull my hand once again, this time round the corner, through a concealed entrance and up some smart internal steps to a grand wooden door. “The VIP entrance”, Leah explained “but it looks like it’s locked.” She sat on the red carpet, and I sat down next to her, shedding my bag and my inhibitions with it. I couldn’t explain myself or even think straight, I just knew I had to get closer, so I drew Leah in for a long kiss, cupping the back of her head with my hand, while she wrapped her arm round my waist, pulling my body nearer and nearer still, until our breasts were touching. At this contact we both moaned in unison, and then grinned at our matching responses, all of a sudden girlie and giggling.
Then Leah traced the outline of my face with a finger, moving to focus on my chest, taking the weight of my breasts in her hands, teasing my nipples with her thumbs. I sat stock still, not daring even to breathe. I was in absolute pieces, consumed by a lust the likes of which I’d never known before. But Leah recognised it, and she smiled a wicked smile, pushing me back onto the steps so that she was leaning in on top of me, her face mere centimetres away, her knee between my legs.
“Tell me that you want me” she commanded.
My body still burned from her touch, and my voice was hoarse with longing: “I want you Leah, oh God I want you”.
I tried to wriggle slightly down the steps so that I could grind my aching crotch against Leah’s knee, but she pinned my shoulders back with her hands. “Not until I say so”, she ordered, “You have to work for your pleasure tonight”. I waited on tenterhooks, my body quivering with desire. ‘Work’, what could she mean?
I didn’t have to wait long to find out, as Leah slipped out of her coat and, still facing me, told me to undo her dress. Thank goodness it was a zip at the front and not buttons, as my hands were shaking so hard with anticipation I could barely use them. Underneath Leah’s dress there was…nothing. Being designer it was bespoke with the structure sewn in, which meant that her ample breasts suddenly sprung free, unfettered, and Holy Christ, they were so goddamn gorgeous that I wanted to swallow them right up. It turns out that’s exactly what Leah wanted too, as she leaned in so that I could take one of her nipples in my mouth. The rest of her glorious chest spread outwards, pressed against my nose and my chin.
Considering this was the first time I’d ever kissed a girl, let alone anything else, it was amazing I retained any of my senses: I was acting on instinct, but I could smell Leah’s skin again, taste her sweat from our busy day, feel the heat of her body emanating towards me in the cold February air, and I knew exactly what she needed. I suckled her, stroking the silhouette of her firm breasts, kneading them with my hands, and pulling them towards me so that I could gorge on her, suck up her beauty. Leah exhaled while I inhaled: I wanted to ingest her, to be at once inside her and have her inside me.
“Let me lick you”, I said, my face flushed.
“Beg me” Leah answered, panting.
“I have never wanted anyone this much, Leah. But I want you, and I want my mouth on your pussy. Please Leah. Please let me have that.”
Again, she flashed that wicked grin, moving up so that she was kneeling further up the stairway, her legs either side of my head, at the perfect height for me to have my fill of her delicious pussy. I was so overcome with lust that I couldn’t contain myself any longer: scarcely conscious of my actions I ripped her Victoria’s Secrets with my teeth and buried my face inside her. I tongue-fucked Leah, my gorgeous goddess and sex-siren, drinking in her juices and using my nose to nuzzle her clit. Then I sucked, and stuffing my mouth with her cunt, my hands holding her round arse, I pulled her even closer, eating her like a sweet peach or a juicy watermelon. I could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter: I needed to make Leah come more than I needed oxygen.
Chewing lightly on her engorged lips, alternating clitoral nibbles with labial licks, I used one hand to press down against her mons, and the other to part her pouting petals, pressing and kneading around her hot nub and tongue-fucking her again until I felt her stiffen and let out an animalistic growl. Leah’s juices were now running freely down my face, and reaching one hand upwards, I buried my nose deep inside her, and inhaled her with wild abandon until I could feel the underside of her breasts lift as a silent orgasm ripped through her and she bent backwards, momentarily losing balance as gravity pulled her head-down towards the bottom of the steps. I grabbed onto Leah’s sturdy legs and hooked my arms behind her knees, blowing softly onto her delicious pussy as I watched her pulsate and quiver. Leah lay there, backwards – downwards – resting, feeling my cool breath on her hot hills and wet hollows as the waves subsided. Then she tensed her strong abs and iron thighs, and swung back up until she was sitting on my face again.
“How do you feel about some overtime?” Leah asked, from above. I could hear the smile in her voice.
“With pleasure,” I answered contentedly, my face already buried deep inside my Nubian princess. If this was considered work, I couldn’t wait to find out what my time off entailed…