A Matter of Trust: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

I had sex with this woman!

The thought made her smile and she bit her lip looking at Chloë’s back, remembering the activities of last night, pleasantly surprised that her center responded by getting warmer.

She briefly considered waking Chloë up by kissing and nibbling her back, moving lower until her mouth and hands got to more interesting anatomical regions, but in the end, she decided against it. Who knew if Chloë enjoyed being woken up that way? Who knew if Chloë hated mornings and was unable to even manage a conversation until she had her coffee? There was much they still had to learn about each other.

The thought of coffee caused Morgan to ease herself out of bed, freshen up in the bathroom and then go downstairs to her kitchen to begin brewing some. While waiting, dressed in her blue cotton kimono robe, she marveled again at what had happened last night and, true to typical Morgan Banks form, began analyzing it.

Sex with a woman!

Last night, she had had sex with a woman!

What a different experience than sex with a man! That was a silly and obvious observation, she knew, but what else could she do? She suddenly found herself in a position whereby she could compare the two and so compare the two she did.

She giggled now at the memory of all those orgasms last night.

That was a huge difference! She’d had her share of decent lovers, of course. And a couple of the men, like Clint, could even be termed excellent, but Morgan knew that with a man, she could count on one orgasm, at most, if she was lucky. But what Chloë had done to her last night! She was getting wet now just thinking about it.

Was it like that with all women? she wondered, before deciding it couldn’t be. Certainly, the realm of lesbians had its share of rotten lovers also. That only made sense.

And was Chloë really that good? Or had the excitement, anticipation, nervousness and novelty of having sex with a woman simply heightened every aspect of what happened last night?

No. She was that good!

Chloë obviously knew how to touch, lick, suck and caress a woman and she had given Morgan an hours-long sexual experience that even now, the next morning, was making Morgan’s heart race just recalling it. And for being so young, Chloë was amazingly sure and confident in the bedroom, and that had turned Morgan on so much. What’s more, that confidence had at times made Morgan forget her own anxiety about actually making love to a woman.

She recalled fondly now Chloë’s sweet concern about moving too fast, insisting that Morgan didn’t need to do things to her that Morgan perhaps wasn’t ready for.

Like eating her out.

But Morgan had wanted to do that! Like, instinctually. And when her face was between Chloë’s legs that first time, Morgan had been happy to realize that she was nothing but excited and aroused being that close to another woman’s pussy. The musky scent of Chloë’s sex mingling with the Sexy Secret perfume! And then the visual of seeing how wet Chloë was then! Morgan’s tongue had flicked out, tentatively at first, sure, but once it had touched Chloë’s glistening lips and that tang of her juices registered in her mouth, Morgan knew she was going to enjoy the hell out of eating her out.

And I actually made her come doing it!

Perhaps it was silly but Morgan was particularly proud of that fact.

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The rich aroma of coffee broke her reverie and she poured herself a cup. When she turned around, she saw Chloë padding into the kitchen on bare feet, wearing one of Morgan’s oversized pajama shirts.

“Oh my god, you look so cute!” Morgan couldn’t help saying. The shirt was actually one of Morgan’s favorites. It had a repeating picture of a cartoon panda bear with sleepy eyes and a mug of coffee in its paws. Chloë was virtually swallowed up in the garment.

Chloë smiled.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind but I raided your closet.”

“Mind? Of course not.” In fact, it was making Morgan feel somewhat giddy with joy and she knew she’d have to unpack that later.

“It was either this or that supercute black cocktail dress you have,” Chloë told her.

Morgan laughed.

“You made the right choice. And at least you put on an actual article of clothing, whereas I…” She used her free hand to indicate her body. “…just wrapped myself in this robe.”

“A robe is clothing,” Chloë assured her, coming to stand right in front of her.

“I guess,” Morgan said with a shrug. She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, Chloë had seemed to get really shy. Those large and lovely eyes of hers were now looking at her with a little fear in them.