College lesbian dating mature stories

I missed the boat on the first wave of the dating app trend. And even after I bit the bullet and downloaded one for the first time, I still had a hard time getting on board with the whole idea of swimming through a sea of unknown faces to decide which one I might like to meet and ultimately, what, maybe even have sex with? Weird.

But eventually, thanks to some good-natured nagging from my friends, I came around and took the plunge. Met a few of the faces, went on a few dates, even had a nice little fling blossom from one of those encounters. The overall experience was surprisingly enjoyable.

So, it’s been a couple years now since my first foray into blind internet dating, and I'll admit that I do still dip my toes in the pool now and then. Especially whenever I leave town; I find that I get really curious about what the foreign waters might look and feel like.

Even though I rarely make time to meet up with any local candidates, I'll load up the old profile upon arriving in a new city. There’s just something about the thrill of being on an adventure, of going to new places, that lowers my inhibitions and encourages me to explore new fantasies with the notion of beautiful strangers.

This time in particular though, I hadn’t even left the airport before I started my virtual journey.

Simply being in an airport is enough to get me excited. It’s so full of potential. Potential encounters and impending adventure. All kinds of people with all kinds of destinations. Some travelling for business. Some travelling for pleasure. Whatever it is for each individual, it makes for a lot of buzzing energy in one place. And contemplating these comings and goings seemed to have struck a chord with me on a visceral level. That familiar restlessness pressed into the denim at the crux of my inner thighs, and I started to roll with a budding fantasy.

I wonder if there might be someone else who is feeling this very same thing in this very same moment...

That’s when I realised that the wonders of modern technology could allow me to find out.

I dragged through to the last page of apps on my phone, pulled up the dating app’s home screen and logged in. Checked the profile—Oh yeah, it had definitely been a while since I last checked in. The long auburn hair I was rocking the last time I put my virtual seduction game to work was long gone. So, I switched out the pics to give new potential suitors a more accurate idea of who I was that day, gave the words in my profile a quick read-through, reduced the app’s search radius to the lowest possible setting to find the nearest contenders, and dove in.

“And we’re off,” I mumbled out loud to myself. Let the swiping begin.

No. No. No. Hard no. Nah. Oh, she’s cute.
No. No. Nope. Next. Okay, dude, why are you wearing sunglasses in every one of your pictures? It makes me trust you even less.

No. Sure. No. Sure. No. I guess, why not. No. No. Nopity-nope. No. Wow. She’s gorgeous.
No… No… No… NO.

It didn't take long to grow bored with my little game. Taking a moment to look around at the people sitting at my gate, I noticed that almost anyone who wasn’t sleeping had their nose in a screen just like me. I locked my phone and closed my eyes. The screen had burned squares of pink and green into my eyelids. Then, vibration between my hands. The notification told me I had a match.

My stomach lurched—I’d matched with the “Wow” girl.

This was about when the thrilling anxiety started to set in.

Well, fuck. This is real now. What do I say?

I prefer to bypass the simplicity of “hey” in an attempt to score points for originality, but still try to keep it simple.

Me: Where are you headed today?

The bubbles popped up on the screen almost immediately. I stared intently as they bobbled along the bottom while I waited for her response to come through.

Her: on an adventure.

Mysterious and a little poetic. That spoke to me; I was immediately intrigued.

But how do I keep cool and clever?

Me: Well, looks like you’re in the right place.

Didn’t seem like my comment mattered though. She kept us moving forward.

Her: why are you here?

Me: I’m hoping to get on a plane soon.

Her: lol no, I mean why are you here on the app

I smirked at the screen as I typed.

Me: Adventure. ;)

Her: mm, good answer

Each one of her characters breathed more boldness through me. The moisture that had drained from my tongue seemed to have risen in my palms.

Me: Wanna come with me?

I held my breath as I waited. I didn’t have to wait long.

Her: I thought you’d never ask

I felt my insides contract spontaneously and my stomach flipped again.

Me: What gate are you at?

Her: b53

I sprung to my feet, swung my bag over my shoulder, and started walking towards her gate.

My pulse climbed with every step forward down the hall. I thought I was actually floating—that’s when I realised I had stepped on the travelator. I’m not sure how I managed to do so without noticing. I guess I was distracted.

My ears flashed hot when I stepped back on to solid ground, just past B57.

Slowing my roll as I made my approach to her gate, I scanned ahead, searching for any face that might resemble the picture on my screen. I checked the picture one more time for good measure.

My heart did a full somersault when I spotted her.

Her eyes were pointed downward towards the screen between her hands on her lap. I kept my own gaze on her as I typed up my next message.

Me: I think I see you.

A slow grin crawled across her cheeks, one corner of her mouth at a time, before she looked up. Her eyes locked onto me almost immediately. Like she already knew exactly where I’d be.

Still slowly putting one foot in front of the other, I smiled back at her. I looked around as if to ask, “What’s next?”

She took the lead.

“Oh my god, hey stranger!” Her voice was deeper than I expected it to be. It dripped slowly down my spine like warm syrup. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She uncrossed her legs with delicate ease as she rose from her seat, to meet me in the bustling artery of a hallway that guided passengers to their gates. She kissed both my cheeks as if we were old friends, although she hovered longer than was customary for most.

“How are you?” Her warm hand lingered on my arm as she spoke, steadying me. Maybe she noticed my knees going weak under her touch.

“I’m good,” I couldn’t tell what was more overwhelming—the nerves spinning around in my head or the heat stirring in my loins.

“When do you board?” she asked. “Do you have time to grab a drink before?”

I played along and checked the time on my phone. “Yeah, I think I have time for a quick one, at least.”

She set off to walk down the hall towards the nearest bar, but I grabbed her hand before she could get too far away. I think I heard her breath hitch when I did.

“I just need to use the bathroom quick,” I added. “Do you mind waiting?”

“Actually,” her every letter dripping with intrigue, “I think I need to go too.”

Oh, damn. It’s on.

We walked in silence now, side by side towards the ladies room. (One of the perks of lady-loving—no one suspects a thing when you go into the bathroom together. Little do they know…)

We crossed paths with another woman on her way out as we walked around the corner to find a long row of identical off-white doors. The aisle before us was otherwise deserted. She took my hand and pulled me along with a little more urgency towards the end of the hall, and pressed her palm into the door. Satisfied that it was empty, she turned back to face me, pulling in with both hands as she stepped backwards into the cubicle.

My chest was tight, while my clit throbbed with earnest against the middle seam of my jeans.

I locked the door behind me, and took a moment to look at her before making any next move. She was an absolute stunner with a palpable softness about her. Dark saucer eyes, round cheeks, loose black ringlets and rolling curves in all the right places. I wanted to wrap all of her around my fingers.

With the door and wall partitions running all the way to the floor, we were perfectly hidden in our little closet full of scandal. But the space wasn’t exactly soundproof, so we laboured to stay quiet as we began our exploration of one another. No words were exchanged—we sought permission through glances and cautious touches.

My cheeks tingled hot when she dropped her bag and brought her hand to my face, stroking the corner of my jaw with her impossibly soft thumb. I placed my hand over hers; almost instinctively, our fingers interlocked and our lips drew close like magnets dragging us together.

I lost myself in the swirl of the strange, new, familiar softness of her. She smelled like someone I once knew. Our hands made quick work of each other’s terrain. I was slender where she was curved. She was light where I was tense. I was firm where she was soft. Her fingers unravelled my nerves as they trailed down my back, releasing the frenzied butterflies from the hidden cage door I didn’t know existed. I ran my fingers up into the thick curls of her hair and pulled her gently by the base of her skull further into my kiss. In return, she clutched at my hips to weave me deeper into her world.

My hand slinked under the edge of her fitted denim dress, skirting the bare skin of her thigh; the aftershock of her shiver spilled out from her tongue into my mouth. I drank it in like nothing else could ever quench my thirst.

But it certainly whetted my appetite for more.

My nimble fingers teased between her leg and the hem of her dress until they could smell the heat of her shadows. Slowly, gently, they moved in and up towards the swollen silk of her knickers. She poured her gasp down my neck as I traced the line of her slit with torturous care, and kissed down the valley between her breasts. When I slid the silk aside and dipped my middle finger between her folds, I was met with a gush of approval. I slid her slick up to her throbbing clit and traced mindful little circles around and around. The build was almost imperceptible, but I gradually added more pressure to my stroke. Gauging the intensity of the shocks flitting down her spine, behind her knees, back into my fingers. I think I was onto something: she buried her face into my shoulder and heaved every ounce of air from her lungs to stifle a desperate moan.

Feeling her harden and open into me, I increased the quivering speed of my touch. My mouth leaned on the ledge of her collarbone; I felt the whip of her head jerking back on my lips. The cords of her neck were strained, presumably to quell the sounds training to escape.

She tapped my forearm and squeezed it tight. I took it as a sign to continue exactly as I was—she was close.

One of her hands gripped my hair while the other grasped futilely at the wall. I felt her clit thump back into me while her hips tried to buck me right off. As gradually as I built, I slowed my swirling roll, guiding her back down to me from her pinnacle of bliss.

The back of her head was teetering to and fro against the cubicle wall. She was all teeth and heavy breath.

I stood back to admire her in her euphoria, but it was as though I’d tripped a wire. Her eyes flashed open and she lunged at me. Hands first, then lips—hungry gratitude. She bit down on my bottom lip while she pried my trousers open and forced them down to the ground around my ankles. She then pushed me down on to the lid of the toilet and squatted down in front of me, looking up at me with her come-drunk eyes.

I shook my head in an attempt to give a compliment but I would never have found the words for even if I could speak. I ran my hand through her hair, down her face. She caught my thumb in her mouth and sucked it in deep, running her tongue along the knuckle. I felt the flick at the base of my spine where it connected with the cool porcelain behind me.

She impatiently tugged at the waistband of my underwear. I raised my hips and we pulled them down together. She pried my knees apart, exposing my vulva to her. My breath was heavy and short all at once in anticipation of more of her tongue on more of me.

Her breath was hot and teasing as she kissed up the length of my inner thigh, ever closer to my aching core. She flicked me once, twice, between every fold. Sucking in the bud of my clit, she held it in the warmth of her mouth. My pulse tried to hit the roof of her mouth, but I felt it in mine.

The subtle shock urged my eyes open. I admired her tongue as it moved in and out of my field of vision, and noticed that though one hand was squeezing my thigh, the other had made its way between her legs. I bit my lip to stifle a groan.

She didn’t skip a beat while she rummaged blindly in the side pocket of her bag. When the rustling stopped, so did her lips abandon me. I didn’t make a note of what was happening until her face was hovering next to mine and the softest droning buzz spring from somewhere between us.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I just cleaned it.”

Before I had a chance to react, the rounded edge of her tiny (surprisingly quiet) purple vibrator was where her tongue had just been. She reached down for my hand and encouraged me to take the reins. I obediently clutched the squished egg-like device and began to acquaint myself with it. She bit my earlobe approvingly and kissed me again, tongue darting in and out, as she teased at my entrance with one, then two fingers.

The tips of her fingers massaged at my opening while I pushed my clit to the brink. My hips rose in anticipation. She slid deeper and deeper until she was as far as she could reach with every thrust, curling her fingers up to my belly button every time she slid out. I like to think we were the definition of stealth, but there’s no way someone wouldn’t have heard us if they set up shop in the next cubicle over in that moment.

She nibbled at my neck as she dragged the orgasm right out of me.

Palm pressed to the side wall, eyes scrunched, jaw clenched, my head tapped the wall behind me a little harder this time. My leg started to twitch violently as my hips fell down following the harsh yet extremely welcome release. She pressed her lips to mine to distract me from the loss of her fingers, breathing life back into me.

She took the vibrator from my hands, pressing the little thing silent; drawing an end to our total fluke of an encounter.

I pulled up my pants. She adjusted her dress. We picked up our bags. She opened the door to check: Yep, coast is clear. She turned back to steal one more kiss before we walked out.

We selected side-by-side sinks to go through the motions of washing our hands and checking our faces for posterity, stealing side-eye glances as she put on new, dramatically darker lips.

“Safe travels,” she said, and planted a soft peck on my cheek before walking away from me forever.

I checked my face in the mirror. I smiled sheepishly at my reflection, rubbing the echo of her dark kiss, mussed my hair back into place, and slung my bag back over my shoulder.

When I walked back out into the busy hallway, it seemed that her flight was boarding—she was already in line. We made brief eye contact without so much as another smile as I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked back to my own gate.

This erotic story by Jayne Renault was originally published on Bellesa.