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Raquel M.

I was at a party downtown but it was starting to bore me. There had been guys before, but they took the drunk girls home with them as soon as they could, so all the guys who were left were short or too tall or had these horrible jobs that they couldn't stop talking about. There weren't many of us left. All the lights were on and the drinks were light, too, just some beer and wine and a bottle of Jack that no one opened. I was sitting on the couch between two guys but they were mostly talking to each other, and trying the best they could to touch me accidentally.

I kept trying to excuse myself, until another girl came over and sat down at my feet. "Hi," she said, offering me her hand. "I'm Jessa."

"I'm Raquel," I said, shaking her hand.

The boys were still talking to each other, trying to impress Jessa and me with their conversation. Jessa and I tried talking to each other about the party but the boys kept talking over us. Finally, Jessa put her hands on my knees and said, "Why don't you come down here and talk to me?"

We sat on the ground for another hour, talking and drinking, and trying to talk about the boys behind us without them realizing. They had more wine and started rubbing our shoulders, first with their knees and then with their hands.

"I know a great party down the road from here," Jessa said to me. "Want to come?"


"Get your coat. Let's go."

We left the boys on the couch, got our coats and said goodbye to the hostess, and Jessa put the bottle of Jack in the folds of her coat, and we walked out together onto the street.

"It's just down a few blocks," she said. "We can walk there."

It was cold so we walked quickly. Jessa opened the bottle and said, "I brought this for the party, but no one opened it." We linked our arms to stay warm and drank from the bottle.

"That's my building up there," she said, stopping in the street and pointing up at a dark window above us. "Do you mind if we go up for a minute? I want to change."


"There's no elevator," she apologized as we walked up the stairs.

"I don't mind."

Her apartment was small and crowded, but the kitchen and the floors were neat, even if the walls were covered in paintings and scarves and sketches on loose paper.

"I know it's a mess," she said, "but I like it."

I followed her into her bedroom, telling her it was nice, and asking her how long she'd lived there. She talked to me about the place while she went through her dresser drawers. She had one huge bureau and it was absolutely filled with clothes. She couldn't shut most of the drawers, and her clothes and scarves were spilling out.

"I hope you don't mind. It's kind of a nice party where we're going, and I want to wear something sexy. Help me?" she asked, backing up to me so I could undo her dress.

"Sure," I said. I only had to unzip it a few inches before she could reach the zipper, but I knew how it felt to have someone bring the zipper all the way down. It feels easy; it turns you on to yourself. I moved her hair onto her shoulder and undid the dress for her. She turned her head towards me and her hair fell onto her back again. The dress was undone but she still stood there, looking back at me over her shoulder. "There," I said.

She moved back towards the dresser and stepped out of her dress.

"Now I just need something else," she said. She stood staring into the drawers for a few seconds and then turned to me. She had a beautiful gray bra that was cut to show the tops of her breasts. The lights were low and I could see the shadow between her breasts and by her tall collarbones. Her panties were the same dark gray, with lace over the edges, and her hand on her hip just touching the lace at the top.

"Do you want to change, too?"

"I don't know," I said. "Don't you think this dress is sexy?"

"Yeah," she said. "But like a young, sexy."

"That's good, though. I'm young. Sexy."

"Mm. But how about something dirty, sexy?"

I was embarrassed but I nodded and she went through her dresser again, and pulled out a sheer top.

"Here," she said. "Try this on."

She held the top out to me and I took off my dress. I waited for a moment, looking at her and letting her look at me, before I reached for the shirt. She took a step towards me and said, "That's a nice bra."

"I like yours, too."

"Want to trade."

I said I did, and I started to take off my bra but she stopped me. "Can I?" She stepped towards me again and reached behind my back, slid her fingers gently over the back of my bra until she reached the clasp. She undid it and moved her fingers over the straps to my shoulders, and pulled my bra off. She looked down at me breasts and asked, "Can I?"

I agreed again and she lightly touched my breast. She pulled her fingers together around my nipple and looked at me, asking for me to agree again. She ran her thumb strongly over my nipple and then took her hand back. She stepped back and took her own bra off, and handed it to me.

"I want your underwear, too," I said.

"Alright," she said, and slid her panties off. Before they touched the ground, she tucked her foot to her leg and caught them. She held them up to me but I didn't take them. She let them drop to the ground. She came back to me and helped me out of my underwear, and then she kissed me, pressed her breasts up to mine and took me to bed with her, kissing my breasts and my stomach and my belly button and opening my legs and licking me with her head to the side, so her hair fell over my legs while I asked her for more.


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Raquel M. is a student living in Milan, Italy. She loves learning languages, meeting new people, going on adventures, and reading good books with lots of hot coffee. This time next year, she plans on teaching English and Italian to students in Italy.

Cover photo courtesy of John Swannell.

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