Lesbian Dildo: Julie Falls

Lesbian Dildo: Julie Falls

What happens when Julie's roommate leaves a gift-wrap package on her bed? She opens it, naturally. To find a huge pink double-ended dildo and a flash drive with instructions.

I Tripping

Julie and Rebecca, deep in conversation about the cultural anthropology lecture they'd both just sat through, didn't notice the carload of frat boys approaching from ahead in a blue Mustang GT, driving just to their left on the campus main street. Dr. Hammet had droned on about folkways and the fear of difference, of Otherness, in African cultures, specifically dwelling on Kramer's concept of mimesis, which -- although admittedly an old idea -- certainly offered a few intriguing (if not to say cryptic) analytical approaches to the quandary of emerging and latent-emerging sub-Saharan pan-Bantu linguo-cultural hegemonies.

It seemed that Dr. Hammet, a fervent --

"Hey red, what color's your bush?"

Julie spun instantly around, flabbergasted, caught her foot on an upturned piece of broken concrete, and fell flat on her hands and knees. By that time the blue Mustang had driven too far down the street for anyone to hear what else, what other vile comments, may have emerged from the interior of that despicable vehicle of masculine debauchery and drunkenness.

Rebecca quickly extended her hand to help lift an embarrassed Julie from the sidewalk. The knees of her jeans were scuffed by the concrete, and her hand bled from cutting themselves against the sharp edge of the broken sidewalk.

"Dammit," Julie half-shouted. "These jeans are new."

"Well, Julie. If you're going to break your neck to look at any boy who calls out to you, these things are going to happen. I didn't know you were so hard-up for a quickie," Rebecca teased.

"It's not funny."

She meant it.

She'd been so clumsy lately, seemingly so easily distracted too. Not to mention horny. She told herself to calm down, to not let her body tell her mind what to do, but still. She was so horny lately. So horny.

And clumsy.

A clumsy, horny freshman.

But still.

Rebecca knew she took her religious beliefs seriously.

She knew Julie didn't do "quickies", didn't do one-night stands, and could almost, almost still claim to be a virgin.

"Still. How long has it been for you, girl? You never have anybody over, and I never see you spend the night somewhere else."

"Ha-ha."

But Julie's words hid no humor.

Not since high school. Not since Lee.

Rebecca dove deeper in.

"You know I've said I can leave the room for a night if you need to bring home an, um, gentleman caller."

Julie didn't say anything, but she silently prayed her roommate would shut the freak up.

"It might relax you, keep you from snapping an ankle looking at the random frat guy in a muscle car."

"Oh, dang it, Rebecca. Can't you just drop it? Besides, I'm not like you, I'm not."

Julie didn't have to finish the sentence for Rebecca to hear the words.

Such a whore.

"Unless, maybe. You want to try something else."

Rebecca pinched Julie's butt and winked at her.

"Oh god. Rebecca. Just drop all that. I told you. Definitely not interested in that."

Julie never could tell if Rebecca teased or not. She'd seen her with guy friends, hanging on guys, she knew she'd spent the night regularly with someone on her roster, but still.

Something about the way Rebecca teased her.

Was she? Would she? Was she curious?

It didn't matter, though. Did it?

Because Julie definitely wasn't curious.

So, Rebecca dropped it. For the moment.

*** At the Union

At the Union, they met up with some of the Rebecca's friends. Julie felt a little stand-offish, not knowing anyone in the group except by sight from the times she'd seen them with her dorm mate. But they seemed very friendly, and Julie learned their names when she sat down, scooting her chair closer to Rebecca's to avoid being so close Luanne.

Not that any bad vibes came from the girl, it's just that. The only free seat at the round table when Becca sat down was that one, and it had been rammed up against the stranger's chair.

Luanne laughed when she saw Julie scooting her chair away from her.

"I don't bite," she laughed.

"Oh, I know," Julie excused herself, although she knew no such thing. "It's just that."

Luanne leaned over to poke Julie in the ribs.

"I'm just goofing with you."

Tricia, Juana, and Shartrell rounded out the small group, and soon the table fell into a continuous stream of gossip, chit-chat, griping, and joking. Julie dived right in, and soon she found herself blurbing on about, well, anything. Anything at all.

Tricia, with Rebecca the other white girl of the quartet, wore her dirty blond hair in a chin-length bob with a blunt fringe just below her eyebrows. She wore pink overalls over a pale blue tee shirt; she cuffed the bottom of her legs, showing the ankle above cute pink checkered sneakers. Tricia was dainty morsel, about the same size as Rebecca, with the flattest chest of the group, tiny A-cups which bothered her at times, but her small size allowed her to enjoy going out without ever wearing a bra. Her hard nipples usually poked through whatever tee or blouse she pulled over her top before going out.

Tricia got a kick out of that.

Juana boasted the fullest figure of the four, proudly showing off a round full ass with a tapering waist rising to lift a bosom every bit the counterpart of the Latina's robust bottom. Her dark hair fell in exuberant rolling waves from the part running the center of her head, and her lips smiled in full, exotic cushions of sensual delight. The only liberal artist in a crowd of business and economics majors, she double majored in English and Spanish, planning to get her master's degree in comparative literatures of northern and central America.

Her matter-of-fact style of a black tee shirt and faded jeans over black lace-up boots seemed a little too boyish for Julie's tastes, but Juana laughed and smiled at the newcomer, soon putting Rebecca's dorm mate at ease with her ready, easy-going demeanor.

Her skin gleamed lush and deep, a golden brown not quite as dark as Shartrell.

Shartrell. Tall and athletic, she carried herself a little more aloof than the rest of Rebecca's gregarious gang, but she grinned pleasantly at Julie, and her warm dark eyes twinkled with humor and affection, and Julie, looking at her, recognized something of a kindred spirit.

Julie could not know it, but Shartrell never wore the same hair style twice. Or even the same her color.

Today Shartrell's hair hung in long tight braids, outlining a keen, angular face, and she wore a bright red blouse, undone halfway to her bellybutton, showing off the dark purple lace of her bra supporting the dark cleavage of her milk chocolate breasts, less full than Juana's but well-formed and firm.

When she stood, her round ass rivaled Juana's, but Shartrell's body was taller and more muscular. She wore tight dark blue jeans and red four-inch straps. The polished the nails of her toes and fingers with different colors of yellow, pink, blue, red, orange, and green.

Multiple rings and studs of many colors glittered along the edges of Shartrell's ears, and long golden chains hung from the woman's dark and lovely neck, falling to land in the valley between her purple-encased breasts.

A small and thin golden ring hung from the side of Shartrell's nose.

Bright pink lipstick shined on her thick and fleshy lips, and glittery pink eyeshadow set off her dark eyes, outlined by long and sweeping lashes, heavily mascara'd.

For the briefest second, Julie wondered what it would be like to kiss them, those heavy pink lips.

If she were a man, she meant.

What it would be like to kiss them as a man.

Then she pushed the idea aside.

"Are you going to the reading tonight, Julie?"

The unexpected question broke Julie's haphazard train of thought.

"I'm sorry. What reading?"

She groaned inwardly, and her heart sank.

She didn't want to seem like a philistine or troglodyte, but the one time she attended a poetry reading bored her to the point of sleep.

She greeted the idea of attending another one with something less than enthusiasm.

"I'm going to be giving a card reading tonight. You know, Tarot."

Julie's heart sank even further.

Tarot.

It smelled of a thing forbidden by Sunday school and proscribed by scripture.

"I don't know," she said, looking towards Rebecca. "Um. I'm not sure."

"Becca's going," Tricia said.

Julie threw a quizzical look at her roommate.

"Becca's my witch name," her roommate confessed.

Julie didn't know how to respond. So, she didn't.

II More tripping

It kept happening, though, her falling down suddenly.

Guys, boys, jerks, whatever. Calling out to Julie as she walked, cat-calling her, whistling, shouting things at her, flustering her, making her spin around. She twisted her ankle once, nothing major, but she limped for days. Rebecca stared at her, bit her lip, and finally she shouted.

"Jesus, Julie. You need to get laid. You can't just keep going on like this, getting all bothered every time a man talks to you."

Rebecca stopped walking and grabbed Julie's elbow.

"Besides. Why go without when you can have me? All you have to do is ask, Julie. I can make you feel so good. We share the same room, dammit. Nothing could be easier."

"Oh, Rebecca. Please."

It bothered Julie, that level of pleading, that level of insistence. Rebecca had never gone that far before.

To openly suggest sex with her.

"Maybe," Julie said quietly, continuing their walk. "Maybe we should see if we can change rooms."

Rebecca hurriedly walked away from her dorm mate without saying a word.

***

A week later towards evening, Julie walked into her empty dorm room, saw a long package on her bed with a note on it saying, "I won't be in tonight. Lock the door."

She didn't need to be told that.

Julie locked the door as a matter of habit, but she checked the knob again anyway. It never hurt to make sure.

She saw a white candle standing on the top of a shared chest of drawers and shelf built partially into the wall opposite their two beds.

The candle was narrowish, maybe an inch or an inch and a half in diameter and tallish, maybe seven or eight inches tall. Maybe taller. Julie wasn't about to measure it, but it didn't look to be quite a foot tall. Lighted. Which annoyed Julie.

Becca knew better than that.

I mean, talk about a fire hazard.

But Julie let the matter drop.

She was here now.

She'd let it continue to burn.

It cast such a lovely light in the wavering dusk of her bedroom.

The scent was lovely, charming.

It smelled like something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but the scent of it sent an invigorating thrill through her body.

She hadn't masturbated for days. Not since being teased by Becca.

She'd been so annoyed with her roommate, she decided to gain control over herself, absolute control.

It's how she dealt with anything that irritated her.

She exercised control over herself.

No sweets, no sugar.

Just fresh fruit and green vegetables and no fried food.

No playing with her area down there.

Only now, coming to her room, putting the world outside where it belonged, did she realize just how horny she was.

And the white-blue flame of the white candle wavered and flickered and grew brighter, the aroma poured out of its wick, and the room's air hung heavy with its sensual aroma.

Julie breathed deeply.

Down there quickened as moisture gathered. Her heartbeat sped up.

Julie removed her glasses, large round plastic frames with chrome accents, pale green frames with pink highlights, and set them on her Bible, which lay on the corner of the desk near the head of her bed.

She bent slightly to pick up the box, which was laid next to her pillow, gift wrapped with a bow and ribbon.

The tag hanging from the bow said, "Dear Julie, I'm sorry. Peace offering?"

Julie smiled, and her mood softened, her annoyance with Becca's forgetfulness with the white candle all but forgotten.

"Of course, Becca," she whispered. "Of course."

III Shopping and spell casting

Earlier that day saw Rebecca winding her way slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully through the aisles of her favorite sex shop, a large, open space with black and white tiles, and round racks standing in the center. She walked past the whips and the chains and the bondage gear. She knew what she wanted, what she'd need, and she'd need nothing so intimidating. Yet.

The girl, the woman, still went to Sunday school in the little building campus ministries had.

Rebecca suddenly popping into their dorm room in full bondage regalia would be a shock no spell could overcome.

Yet.

Familiar with the shop's layout, Rebecca headed towards the toys. Dildos, vibrators, wands.

But her circle was strong, competent, confident, and when they met her, they just had to have her.

"We have to have her," Luanne said in that tone brooking no argument.

The others nodded in complete agreement.

"Here's what you'll do, Becca. Now attend."

Rebecca listened attentively as the others gave her her orders, leaving up to her the choice of device.

When she saw at the shop, so long and purple and translucent, she knew she had found the right tool to use for Julie's, um, alteration. It practically begged to be touched, caressed, felt. Used.

Rebecca quickly made her purchases, sped to the Luanne's house where the other four were waiting for her. It would be a long afternoon, but such a spell took care, deliberation, method, and patience.

A lot of patience, and Rebecca found that the hardest thing of all.

She wanted her so bad.

Wanted that body so bad.

IV Falling

Julie removed the bow and carefully slipped the ribbon off the oblong box. The she lifted the top to see pink tissue. Setting the box on the bed and sitting down next to it, she unwrapped the pink tissue to reveal an oblong object in gleaming purple. It took her a second to figure out what she was looking at, then she covered her mouth and looked away, hunching her shoulders as if ducking something thrown at her.

She wanted to be mad at her roommate, but her natural humor saw the joke in it, and she laughed aloud, a little giggle mixed with annoyance.

As if.

She looked at the interior of the package and saw a small bottle next to the purple dildo. Julie lifted the bottle from the package and in doing so her thumb grazed the surface of the sex toy. She ignored the zap of static electricity and read the label on the bottle.

Lesbian Life: Lubricant for You and Her

Juie read the label to discover the lubricant boasted a water-based substance for sensitive skin. "You can squirt it directly on your favorite sex toy or pour it on your hot pussy. Or on her hot pussy. Perfectly safe to swallow."

A small rectangular card, like a business card, lay atop the dildo.

Julie picked it up and read Rebecca's neat handwriting.

"Fair warning, Julie. If you touch the dildo, you'll be a dyke forever."

Julie snickered.

Oh my god. You're really laying it on a little thick, aren't you? A little too thick.

Julie placed the card on the bed next to the package and saw a thumb drive where the lubricant bottle had been laid.

The white candle burned, and its flame grew taller, brighter, the aroma now rose from its wick as a reddish pink smoke, filling the room, drenching the air in erotic sensuality. Lust. Desire.

The needs of a woman.

Looking around the room, Julie spied her Bible, and she picked it up, opened the top desk drawer and slipped it inside, closing the drawer.

Immediately she felt lighter, less oppressed, hungrier.

Excited.

Her heart raced.

She picked up the thumb drive and set it beside the card, leaving only the purple dildo, nestled in its lush pink tissue. Julie bit her lip. Should she?

Oh, she wasn't worried about Becca's warning.

That girl might claim to dabble in spell casting, but that was the sort of thing Becca said. You just had to go along with it. Or ignore it. And Julie usually (always) ignored it.

Still, now that she had a chance to really look at the thing, she found herself wondering, wanting and hesitating to pick it up.

For one thing, it was huge. At least two feet long, Julie thought.

Shaped like a huge cock.

Then she looked closer.

Oh my god.

Shaped like two huge cocks, one dick tip at each end.

Julie never used sex toys. She'd never used a vibrator much less a cock-shaped dildo, much much less one with two ends.

She didn't look at porn.

That seemed too much like something men liked. Hard, brutal, quick, and completely without sensuality. The few times she looked it just felt. Gross. Yucky. And stupid. Really, really stupid.

She played with herself; she touched herself.

She liked to run her hands through fuzzy lips of her vagina, because she shaved only to trim a triangle for swim wear, preferring one-pieces to bikinis.

Still.

What if it did?

What if touching the dildo turned her into a lesbian?

The aroma of the candle deepened, and Julie breathed deeply through her nostrils, trying to identify the smell that seemed so familiar and strange.

A small shiver ran through her, charged with the delectable trepidation of something dangerous and even forbidden.

Forbidden?

So many girls were queer nowadays.

So many girls liked to taste. It.

Their areas down there.

Their vaginas.

Vulvas.

Pussies.

Julie sat up erect, shaking her head.

I gotta stop this, she thought. I need to go for a walk, clear my thoughts, go to the library. I need to go to the library to study. My psychology test is coming up.

Julie stood up quickly, but instead of gathering her things to leave, she went to fetch her laptop from the shared desk built-in to the wall between the two beds. Bringing the laptop back her bed, she sat down, opened her computer and waited for the screen to come on. Then she plugged in the thumb drive.

A folder displayed with a Read Me text file and a Lesbian Life Welcome video.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it, Julie! What the hell are you doing? This is so wrong!

But something even stronger than the voice in her head urged her on, urged her to keep going. She couldn't understand why she wanted to look, she didn't even think she did want to look. She just knew that for some reason, she had to.

She just had to.

She took a deep breath and clicked the video file.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought. But she did it all the same.

She reached into the oblong box and pulled the purple dildo from its nest of pink tissue.

The moment her hand touched the sex toy, a wave of something surged through her, a feel, a sensual feeling like nothing she'd ever felt before. At once electric and, um, watery. Milky, maybe. An indescribable sensation of liquid heat, of molten pleasure washing over her mind, drowning her in aqueous fire.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, she thought.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, her mind screamed in ecstasy.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she shrieked, stifling her yell by leaning over to bite her pillow.

"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god. Oh fuck."

Spasms rocked her body, and when they finally diminished and when the flood of pleasure finally ebbed, Julie sat up, one hand still clutching the purple dildo and looked at the screen of her laptop.

The video, paused at the menu display, showed two women, nude and glistening with oil or sweat, holding a purple double-headed cock between them, caught, until the video started, in the act of each one kissing, tongues extended, the upper tip of the violet sex toy.

Julie shuddered at the sight.

"Oh god," she said aloud, "I'm so...turned on...I can't...I don't want to stop."

It was true; her pussy tingled and sizzled, saturating her crotch with her warm juices.