JANEY by Palmer buckrabbit@hotmail.com
Janey and I have known each other practically all our lives, having lived on the same street since we were born, in that semi-rural community. We played together throughout childhood and attended the same schools, from kindergarten through high school. Janey was more of a tomboy than I was, and was constantly getting injured. I always worried about her, and tried to keep her out of harm's way as well as I could. When she was about twelve, she started making everyone call her Jane. However, she was always "Janey" to me, and I always called her Janey, when no one else was around. We were as close as two girls could be and shared all our thoughts, fears and joys.
We had entered the tenth grade, and, the previous summer, I had started going with one of the cutest boys at our school. His name was Hale; he was a senior and he sang in a rock band! I couldn't believe how lucky I was!
As often as I had tried to hook her up, Janey had never really clicked with the boys. Everybody loved Janey-- she was funny, uninhibited and great fun to be with. I felt privileged to be her best friend. Privately, the boys would tell me that they just couldn't get romantic with her because she was like a sister and, somehow, wasn't really sexy to them. I worried that she was sexually frigid. All her life she had kept her dark, thick brown hair cut short, and seldom, if ever, wore makeup. She had a little scar on her chin she got when she was nine, when she crashed her bicycle into a fence, doing a stunt for some boys. She thought it was hideous, but after awhile, I never even noticed it; it was just part of Janey. I thought she was very cute in her own way, but maybe that's because she had always been my best friend and because I loved her so much.
One day, just before Thanksgiving that year, I was sitting on my bed, when I heard the back door open and close. My family had eaten supper and left early for my brother's football game. I had been too upset to go, and was thankful for the quiet time alone. Janey entered my bedroom unannounced, as she often did. When I looked up at her, she could see that I had been crying. "Ohhh, Sarah, what's wrong?", she pleaded. I tried to speak, but only started sobbing, uncontrollably, into my hands. She sat beside me and put an arm around my shoulder. "Ohhh, nooo, no, no," she repeated over and over. When my sobbing subsided, I finally said, "Hale broke up with me." "Oh, God," Janey groaned, "I'm so sorry." "He said he needed to talk to me after school, so I met him at my car and he said he never really loved me and he's going with that slut, Barbara Porter. He was so... cold..." "I'm so sorry," Janey repeated, hugging my shoulder and rubbing my back. "That bastard was just using me, waiting for Barbara and Jon to break up," I grunted through clenched teeth. "If I knew he didn't love me, I would have never let him touch me down there!" I began sobbing again, my shoulders heaving with each sob. I furiously threw myself, face down, on the bed, occasionally pounding my fists into the mattress, as Janey continued to rub my back gently for what seemed like an hour, comforting me.
My tears finally subsided and I fell, exhausted, into a light sleep as the room darkened into the early autumn afternoon, Janey remaining at my side all the while. I don't know how long I drifted in and out of sleep, but I finally awoke, the light of the full moon flooding my room through the open curtains. My face still hot with tears, Janey lay down beside me and put an arm around me. I imagine she was empathetically exhausted, as well. I appreciatively put an arm around her. She turned on her side, facing me, then, managing to get her other arm around me, she pulled me to her. I put my other arm around her and we exchanged a warm, tight embrace. She gently pushed my long, blonde ponytail off my right shoulder and began lightly kissing my cheek and neck, whispering over and over, "My sweet Sarah, My sweet, sweet Sarah." I buried my face between her right shoulder and neck, enjoying the soothing, tingling sensation of her kisses.. Then Janey rose up and brushed her lips softly against mine. We kissed deeply, wetly and passionately, our tongues entangling, just like I'd done with boys.
As we sucked on each other's tongues, Janey unbuttoned my shirt, lifted my bra and began moving her fingertips lightly over my nipple. It felt like electricity was shooting down my spine to my toes. Janey broke off our kiss, sat up on her heels and removed my shirt and bra. I lay back, anticipating her loving caresses. I felt my broken heart beginning to heal.
She kissed and sucked my nipples alternately, lovingly cupping the sides of my tits like no guy had ever done.
Concentrating on the exquisite feelings emanating from my breasts, I hardly noticed Janey unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. But I definitely noticed the sliding of her right hand down my belly and into my panties. Having discovered the joys of masturbation early in life, I was no stranger to clitoral stimulation, but I was totally unprepared for what was soon to come. (Janey and I had played "doctor" early in life, touching each other's privates, and eventually outgrew the curiosity, but this time was different!) She parted my labia and began rolling my clitoris between her index and second fingers. Probably knowing that I was already extremely wet from the preceding excitement, Janey dipped her fingers into my pussy and used my flowing juices to perform incredible acts of magic on my clitoris.
After awhile, she got off of the bed and swung my hips around to the edge of the bed. Surrendering completely, I lifted my ass, allowing her to undress me completely. She removed her clothes, too, and knelt between my widely spread legs. Cupping my ass cheeks in her palms, she softly kissed the crease between my legs and my crotch on both sides. With her left hand reaching around my right leg, she pulled up on my pubic area, stretching my pussy open, and directly licked my clit up and down, her tongue imitating my vibrator, while frigging her own cunt with her right hand.
Knowing from my response that I was on the brink of orgasm, she backed off, and began licking the left side of my clit slowly and lightly, sending me into a long, frustrating state of ecstasy. She continued this technique, occasionally pushing her tongue firmly and deeply across the top of my clit, making me shudder, then circling my clit lightly before resuming the technique of slowly and lightly licking the left side of my clit again, until I thought I would come out of my skin. Any worries that Janey might be sexually frigid were completely erased from my thoughts forever.
When Janey started rubbing the side of her index finger firmly back and forth across the top of my clit while licking my bud, I knew she had decided that it was time for me to cum. She inserted the little finger of her other hand just inside my abundantly lubricated ass. I relaxed completely, allowing my orgasm to ebb coursingly from deep in my crotch to the top of my head and down to my toes. Janey rested her head on my abdomen. A minute later, I leaned up, took Janey's face in my hands, kissing the scar on her chin, and kissing her mouth in deep appreciation.
I stood up, guided her onto the bed, and positioned her just as she had positioned me. I buried my face deep in her crotch, savoring her aroma, which was identical to mine. Janey leaned up, caressed my cheeks with both hands, and said, "You don't have to..." "I want to," I replied. I proceeded to try replicating the techniques on Janey that she had used on me, expending three times the time she had spent on me, and I think I satisfactorily, lovingly, induced several orgasms in her.
That was the only time we made love, and I'll never forget it. We both went on to marry, I, a man, she, a woman, and we remain the best of friends.