Show Me Yours Lucy Felthouse

I felt I’d fallen on my feet with my university digs. Despite having a two-bedroom, I’d never had to share. I was incredibly lucky to have all that space to myself, and I’d always made the most of it. All that changed when Celeste arrived. She’d come over from France on a placement, gaining experience of the English language for her degree.

It was up to my university to find her somewhere to stay. Ever the cheapskates, their own property was the cheapest option; therefore, she ended up in my room. I knew it wasn’t like I had to give up my bed or anything, but I’d gotten so used to my own space that I felt affronted having anyone share it.

When she arrived, though, it wasn’t so bad. I was expecting a language barrier and awkwardness, speaking only the most basic French myself, but it turned out that she spoke better English than I did.

Celeste settled in quickly, and we got on famously. Just as well, since we were living in such close proximity. My main problem with the situation was the lack of privacy. I’d always been able to go to the loo with the door open, or wander around in the buff—difficult habits to break. Not to mention masturbation. I’d taken that totally for granted. No more slipping into bed with my Rampant Rabbit for a quick session before sleep time—even if Celeste was asleep, that damn noise would wake her up!

After a few frustrating wank-free weeks, I was at bursting point. As we were both always popping in and out of the dorms all day, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t come in any minute. Finally, I got so desperate I decided to take the risk. Having no boyfriend at the time, it was the only way I could get any relief. I was sure she had a lecture at twelve for an hour. I planned to do it.

I skipped over to the window and closed the curtains, but not before peeking out across the courtyard to make sure Celeste wasn’t around; I had visions of her coming back to collect a forgotten book or something. The coast was clear—excellent.

I drew back from the window and cursed as my top caught the handle of the dressing table drawer—Celeste’s dressing table. I untangled myself and went to shut the drawer, until I saw what was inside.

The saucy minx had a dildo! One of the thick, veiny lifelike things, complete with balls. I was astounded. Here was I, desperate to masturbate, and yet she was finding time to use this bad boy! Or was she? Just because it was there—after all, she was in the same predicament as me. Perhaps she used it in the shower, with the noise of the running water to drown out her cries.

I was lost in reverie—images of Celeste standing under the shower, stuffing herself with this monstrous synthetic cock when the door opened.

Startled, I shoved the dildo behind my back. I must have looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I suppose I was, in a way. Celeste walked into the room, frowning at the dimness and flipped on the light.

“Liz? What are you doing? Why are the curtains closed?”

“N-nothing,” I stuttered, mentally fumbling for an excuse, “I have a migraine coming on. I was going to have a lie down.”

Only a partial lie. The second part was true.

“Oh, okay,” she said. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I just came back to change. I spilled juice on my jeans.”

Damn. She was going to come to the chest of drawers. I shuffled hastily out of the way, hoping she’d think it was she who had left the drawer open. No such luck. She hesitated as she noticed the drawer and turned to me.

“Why is that open, Liz? And what are you holding?”

Her face registered annoyance, then, after a beat, amusement, as she thought about what I could possibly be hiding. I thought desperately for an excuse, then gave up. After all, I hadn’t really done anything wrong. I hadn’t been snooping; the open drawer had been a genuine accident. It was just my curiosity that had gotten the better of me and left me holding the dildo.

I held out my hand. Celeste’s eyes widened. I held both hands up in surrender, not thinking how amusing my pose would look to a bystander.

“Look,” I began, casting around for the right words, “this looks bad, I admit. But it was an honest mistake.”

“An honest mistake resulting in you examining my dildo?”

Touché. “Celeste. Listen.” I explained what had happened, sticking to the migraine explanation, as opposed to the I’m-desperate-for-an-orgasm one. “…and when I saw your dildo, I was just curious. I’m nosy and I’m sorry. I never should have touched your stuff. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

Celeste’s eyes narrowed and I tensed, believing she was about to start ranting and raving. Aren’t the French renowned for their tempers?

“Do you have a dildo of your own, Liz?”

Wondering where this was leading, I answered, “Not a dildo, no. A vibrator. A Rampant Rabbit.”

“Really?” she squeaked. “I have never seen one of those! Show me!”

It was all getting a bit weird, but I figured I wasn’t in a position to argue. I handed Celeste her dildo and went to fetch my own toy. I presented it to her, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl forced to turn out her pockets by a teacher. My vibrator fascinated Celeste. She turned it over in her hands, looking at the buttons and fingering the bunny ears.

“Show me how it works,” she demanded, handing it back to me. “If it is good, I may get one of my own.”

“Well,” I said, “you press this button here and the bunny ears vibrate, and this button here makes it faster —”

“No, I said show me, not tell me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, though it was slowly dawning on me where this was going, “I’m not…”

“Come on Liz, don’t be scared. Show me.”

Celeste walked over to me, took my hand and led me to my bed where she pushed me down and sat beside me. By now, I was seriously panicking. I’d never had so much as a drunken snog with a girl before, and yet here I was about to use my Rampant Rabbit in front of her?

Of course, Celeste and I had seen each other naked; living in the same room it was kind of inevitable. But that wasn’t sexual. Or had it been for her? Despite her never mentioning a boyfriend, I’d never got the impression she was gay. Perhaps she’d kept it from me because she didn’t know how I’d react. Or maybe she felt she didn’t know me well enough yet. Could she be bi?

I didn’t get the chance to voice any of the questions flitting through my brain as Celeste spoke again.

“Liz.” She tucked her long dark hair behind her ears, looking at me through her lashes. “Come on. You’ve seen my passion, let me see yours.”

She was coming on to me! Her hand found mine, and she lifted it to her lips and began to kiss and nibble my fingertips. I was frozen to the spot. My brain struggled to keep up with all the information that was being thrown at it. I’d just processed the fact that Celeste was a lesbian, or at the very least bisexual, when I came across a question. Was I? I’d been with guys, though not very many, but I’d never really thought about girls in that way. Or had I? Reading magazines, I’d always appraised girls’ bodies, but in a more analytical way than a sexual one. So I thought.

As Celeste continued her ministrations on my fingers—she was now sucking them—I thought, what the hell? I wasn’t anti- girl, after all. Plenty of girls partake in lesbian encounters at university and then go on to have straight relationships for the rest of their lives. They just see it as experimentation, so why shouldn’t I?

I gently removed my fingers from Celeste’s grasp, put my vibrator down and began to unbutton my blouse. Following my lead, Celeste started to undress. Within seconds we were both down to our underwear. She was wearing a matching black set, which looked striking against her pale skin. Her figure was lithe, almost boyish, narrowed at the hips with small but perky breasts.

She pushed me so I was lying down on my bed, then began to tug at my pants, which didn’t match my bra. I rarely paid attention to such details. Celeste didn’t seem to mind and discarded my underwear without a second glance. Then she handed me my Rabbit.

Wow, I thought, this is it. My first girl-on-girl encounter, and I am totally unprepared! I tried to tell myself it would be fine. I was just using my vibrator in the same way I always did; it would just be in front of an audience, that’s all. By now, I was wet. Whereas I was worrying, my subconscious was obviously relishing the situation. My clit was tingling with anticipation, and my pussy lips were slick with juices, which squished as I parted my thighs.

I slid the head of the vibrator down between my folds, swirling it up and down my vulva, coating it in my juices. Celeste watched, enthralled. She was biting her lip and looked as though she was restraining herself. Did she want to touch herself? Touch me?

Seconds later I changed the angle of the toy and positioned it at my entrance. It was by now lubricated with my natural fluids. I pushed it inside, gasping as it stretched my vaginal walls and feeling it all the more keenly as it had been such a long time. When it was in as far as it would go, I pressed the button to switch on the vibrating ears. I positioned them on my sweet spot and groaned as the vibrations shook my clitoris into ecstasy.

I half-forgot that Celeste was there as I felt my orgasm approaching. She wasn’t trying to get involved, as I first thought. She was merely watching what I was doing. I slowed things down—not wanting to come too soon—by moving the ears temporarily from my clit and penetrating myself shallowly with the shaft of the toy.

I felt my orgasm subside a little, so I put the Rabbit back in its original position, not wanting to lose my climax altogether. This time it built up much more quickly, and I felt the familiar tingling building up in my abdomen. Celeste, clearly realizing what was happening, didn’t move a muscle. Only another woman can understand how fickle the female orgasm can be.

I began to twist my wrist back and forth, flicking the bunny ears across my clit and back, a surefire way to get me off. Sure enough, I felt the contractions begin, and the wave of intense feeling which signaled my climax. I tensed involuntarily as the waves rolled over me; then relaxed as they subsided, quickly tugging the toy off my clit, suddenly sensitive. As my breathing and heartbeat slowed, I opened my eyes.

Celeste was sitting at my feet, looking shell-shocked. Was she horrified? Disgusted? Our eyes met, and she grinned, dispelling my concerns.

“Liz, that was really sexy. That thing looks magnificent! I am definitely going to get one.”

Reaching into my bedside drawer for a condom, I replied, grinning, “Why don’t you test this one first?”