This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone, anywhere, anywhen is purely coincidental. This story involves sex between adult females (and maybe males. See how it goes...) If that's not your thing, or if it is illegal in any way, then stop reading. Otherwise, Enjoy!
Deb and I picked up where we left off, her hands squeezing my breasts, mine wandering towards her waistband. I pushed one hand down further, stroking her behind, wondering if I dared explore the hot slit beyond. She took a nipple in her mouth, and the shock made me lose all sense of direction. This girl was good with her tongue. 'Lucky Mark', I thought. Across the room, our male friends were still kissing, but both had obvious bulges in their trousers, and all shirt buttons had been unfastened leaving them bare-chested. I swigged yet more Jagermeister, handed the bottle to Deb, then sat back. I wanted to watch.
As though she had read my mind, Deb crawled across to where Mark and Mick sat, engaged in their own games. She reached out and gently stroked Mark's erection through his trousers. He gave a sharp thust, then his eyes opened a notch.
"Go on," he murmured, still concentrating mostly on Mick, reaching a hand out to unfasten Mick's trousers. Deb undid Mark's button and zip and his hard penis sprang out. It was large, I thought, though I didn't have much experience with these things. She bent to take it in her mouth, and I felt a pang of jealousy, which I quickly washed down with more beer. Mick's dick was longer and thinner, and currently being fondled by Mark's confident hands. He's done this before, I thought as I watched, my own juices beginning to flow. I felt left out, but didn't want to join Deb in indulging my male friends. I just wanted her. And I was going to have her. My mind made up, I, too, crossed the room.
I sat behind Deb, my legs bare as I had discarded my trousers. Deb did the same, and Mark, leaving only Mick still possessing clothing. He seemed reluctant to take his trousers off. I shuffled up to Deb as she was masturbating Mark, my legs around her from behind, my clit rubbing against her. As she worked on him, I thrust against her, the sensation pleasant but not likely to bring me to orgasm. I lifted myself up on my knees, and felt a body move in behind me. Mick.
We had been friends forever, never had an encounter of a sexual nature, but as I felt him slide inside me I felt no regrets. My hands snaked around Deb as Mick fucked me slowly. I moved my hands down to Deb's pussy and began stroking, caressing, teasing. Deb bent over, using her small, soft hands, and Mark was the first to come, loudly. His stuff spattered over all four of us, and I felt Mick licking it hungrily from my arm. Deb exploded next, from my expert handling, stroking her clitoris as she shuddered with pleasure. Mick held me tight from behind as he thrust into me, and I felt uncomfortable. Deb saw this and, once sufficiently recovered, she moved to my side and loosened his arms, convincing him to let go. Mick groaned as he ejaculated inside me, and I felt spasms rocket through his body.
As I curled up on my bed, Deb's body was pressed against mine, her breasts below my chin, my arms wrapped around her. I could feel the beating of her heart, smell her hair as I rested my head against hers. Just when I thought she was asleep, I felt movement. Her leg curled upwards and over my hip, and I turned slightly to match her movements. Her lips moved to my ear, and I could hardly make out the whisper.
"Shhh..," she breathed, kissing my face and neck silently. I couldn't reply. Her knee pushed against me insistently, and I slowly eased over onto my back. Deb slid on top of me, knees bent, propping her up slightly. Smoothing her palms over my breasts, stopping to tweak my hardening nipples, she bent to kiss me again. Warm excitement was spreading through my body, every part of it, as the soft lips crept down my neck and between my breasts. Her hands were now at my hips, caressing, exploring leisurely.
I was on a knife-edge, not daring to move as my hands stroked the top of my friend's head. I opened my thighs wider, almost unconsciously, and felt her breath across my wet folds. Then, the waiting stopped. Her tongue slipped into my crack, tasting my juices, moving slowly but with authority. My clitoris was on fire as Deb licked first one side, then the other, using the point of her tongue to aim her efforts to perfection. I moaned softly, unable to contain the building sensations. More tongue work followed, up and down, across, circular motions, and I felt a fresh wave of pleasure roll over me. Gasping, I threw my legs wider still, inviting her inside.
A hand moved from one hip, slowly, dancing across my bare skin, and briefly massaged my pussy. Two fingers found my dripping hole and thrust inside. I was boiling over. In and out, in and out, she worked them, adding another as I bucked and shuddered, the tongue against my clitoris weaving in figures-of-eight. I could take no more, and cried out as my orgasm overtook me, engulfing body and soul in warmth and ecstasy. Deb rested her head on my thigh, breathing hard, then shuffled back up so that we were face-to-face. I kissed her hard, passionately. We held each other tightly for a long time before drifting into sleep.
Nothing was said the following morning, though Deb and I exchanged knowing smiles, and the guys exhibited expressions of sheepishness and more than a little embarrassment. Just another drunken bunch of students getting it on, we were most likely all thinking as we washed, dressed and headed down to breakfast. Here in the bright, airy dining room the events of the previous night seemed an age away, and soon we were laughing and chatting like the good friends we were. Nothing had changed, I was relieved to discover, for I would have held myself responsible.
As usual, the talk came around to plans for the day ahead. I had been considering this all morning and was ready when the subject was broached.
"Right, here's what I thought. Mick, you get over to the hotel again. She doesn't know you as well as the rest of us. Just watch, don't follow." I grinned, imagining my friend as a bumbling great attempted stalker, sticking out like a sore thumb on the harsh streets of East Berlin.
"Mark, check out travel arrangements for tonight. Find out when the U-Bahn runs, the S-bahn, the nearest stops for both to us, the Brandenburg Gate and Kat's hotel. Get alternatives in case they're packed. Make sure you know when the services finish. Get some taxi numbers and bus timetables." I looked at him and he nodded slowly, mentally filing away my instructions.
"Deb, you've got the West side of the Gate. Look at where all the stalls and tents are set up, the fairground rides, trees, the roads - anything you can get as landmarks. Take this," I fumbled in my pocket and drew out a small notebook, handing it to her.
"Draw a rough map, just a sketch. After that, go to the internet cafe, dredge up some pictures from last New Year's Eve. Crowd size and layout, hot spots, vantage points. You get the idea?"
She, too, nodded. I sighed inwardly.
"I'll be taking the East side and doing the same thing. I think that's the most likely place to find Kat, being Russian and all, but I can't be sure." I stopped and glanced around my three comrades. All wore eager expressions, ready to go, and I wished I could share their optimistic enthusiasm. I had waited for today for too long, I had played and replayed a hundred different scenes in my head. All I wanted was to see Katja and know that it will be ok.
"Let's go, then. Rendezvous back here at 2pm." I rose, briefly said goodbye, then marched out of the room. After grabbing more suitable overclothing I crossed to the station and headed to Friedrichstrasse.
I was ready for a beer and some lunch, and had been ready for some time. It was only 1.30pm, and I had done all the investigating I could muster. I sat at a table next to the youth hostel's small bar, which was closed. Paper littered the table, my notes, drawings, jotted remarks. Pictures, printed out at the internet cafe for a price, showing thousands of merry revellers celebrating the birth of this year, almost twelve months ago. There had been less snow around then, and it had been a shade warmer. 'Perhaps fewer folk would venture out this year,' I thought desperately, trying to cheer myself up. I waited ten more minutes, then went to the reception to purchase a cold bottle of WeiBbier. Soon I was joined by one, then two, then the last of my friends, Mick, who rushed in from the fresh blizzard that again threatened the city. His nose and ears were red, but his face triumphant. I raised my eyebrows. Nobody else spoke.
"I saw her!" he gasped, unwrapping his long scarf and shaking the ice from it. "Coming out of the hotel, went on the U-bahn, to, um - " He glanced down at a scribble on his right hand.
" - Stadtmitte. Yes, that's right, Stadtmitte, "
His pronunciation was atrocious, but it didn't matter, and I didn't correct him. My concerns were elsewhere.
"And pray, how would you know this, when you didn't follow her?"
My sarcasm was not veiled. He squirmed in his seat, looking everywhere but at me. Eventually he answered in a flood of garbled excuses.
"Well, she was just there, you know, and I had to get on a train back here,-"
"Not that train, you didn't. The U2 line is a bit of a roundabout way to get back to the Zoologischer Garten."
"Well, anyway, she didn't see me, and she got off at that stop, but I couldn't see much there anyway,"
"It's fucking underground!" I interrupted again, my annoyance starting to show. What if he had been spotted? It could all be ruined. I took a deep breath and dispelled my foreboding mood. At least, finally, we had a visual on Katja.
The others' stories made me feel slightly better. Deb had done her research thoroughly, coming up with several pictures I hadn't managed to find, plus an official plan of the events for tonight and a list of the best places from which to view the fireworks from both sides of the Gate.
"You see," she explained, her blonde hair falling over her papers, "it turns out that if you stand anywhere here," indicating a section she had outlined on a printed map of the area, "you wouldn't be able to see the fireworks."
"Why?" I asked, confused. She stabbed at the map exasperatedly with her pencil.
"These buildings are too tall. Fireworks won't be high enough to see behind them. But if you look here, and here," more jabs with the pencil, "there would be a fantastic view down either of these side streets."
I nodded.
"That's just the East. What about West?" I asked, knowing she would have the answers prepared. Deb scowled at my question, pulling out another map.
"Basically, you could be anywhere around there to see the fireworks. You could even stand further away from the gate, say on those smaller roads cutting through the park, and still get a good eyeful."
"Does anyone actually know what she thinks about fireworks?"
I asked the question more angrily than I had intended. Worried glances flickered between my friends.
"Well," Mark began, "I know she doesn't like them being thrown on the street. Remember that kid in the park on Bonfire Night?"
We all nodded. Kat had been outraged, with good reason.
"But they do that over there, though." Deb ruffled for yet another piece of evidence. "Look here."
The grainy printout showed two scenes, one with a river separating several firework-laden hooligans, another with dozens of people, evidently pyrotechnics, lighting the things and throwing them around a well-lit, tree-lined street. I looked at Deb, waiting for more.
"This one is round the back of Friedrichstrasse station, by the river." She indicated the top picture. I leaned forward, looking closer at the other.
"I know where that is," I exclaimed, surprising even myself. My grin must have been smug. I continued.
"It's 'Unter den Linden', the street leading to the Gate from the East. But this is a way from the Gate, probably closer to the intersection with Friedrichstrasse." I looked to Deb for confirmation. She nodded.
"Chris is right, and so by the sounds of things we've eliminated quite a bit of searching area here."
'Well done, guys' I thought as I downed my beer and ordered another.
I studied the maps and made a decision.
"We stick together tonight. Near enough, anyway. We'll spread out across the street, make a sweep down 'Unter den Linden' from East to West and back before the fireworks start and everyone goes nuts. I just have a feeling we'd be better off sticking to that end of things. Most folk won't be moving very much, we should be able to weave in and out. Mark, Mick, you take the two middle lines as you're taller than we are. I'll take the North side of the street, Deb the South. OK?"
I felt like a general, directing his battle-weary troops towards the front line.
There was nothing else to be said, and we sat and had a beer and a chicken kebab, relaxing over lunch. Mick expressed an interest in going to the cinema, Mark agreed to join him. Deb and I couldn't be bothered and we said so, retiring up to the room. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking around at the clutter I'd managed to spread out in my short time here. Maps, leaflets, gloves, mugs, souvenirs from Munich surrounded my other, mundane belongings. Deb sat next to me and I felt her arm around me once again. Involuntarily a stirring arose inside me. I smiled grimly at her, shaking my head as I did so. She squeezed my shoulder and the feeling came again. I could not let myself do this. I rose and moved to the window.
The snow had stopped and the winter sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the white ground. It had not settled thickly, but rested loosely on top of the ice that had formed overnight, making it a treacherous surface to walk on as I had discovered the hard way earlier.
"What time do you think we should go?" Deb's singsong voice disturbed me. I turned away from the window to face her, slumping back down on the bed.
"I don't know. Maybe around ten-thirty?" I just made that up on the spot without any real thought, and Deb realised that. She walked around and kissed me on the top of the head.
"Have a bit of a nap, sweetie. You've earned it. We'll think about that when the boys get back." With that, she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I dreamed, surreal images popping in and out of my head like pensioners in a post office. Kat in the snow, eating raw sausages. Kat and Andrew shagging on a rollercoaster. The first time I saw Kat, in my first week at University, tramping across a wet quadrangle with no regard for the 'Keep off the Grass' signs, but wearing high heels. Deb, her hair floating about her face. On and on, until I finally woke, sweating and anxious.
"Hey," I murmured groggily, seeing indistinct figures around me. An arm hoisted me upright, and Mark sat grinning.
"Ready to roll, girl?"
I shook my sleeve and examined my watch. It was 9.45pm, and hell, was I ready!
"Grab that bottle. We'll need it."
Seeing the disapproving looks, I amended my assessment.
"OK, I'll need it. Let's go, shall we?"
Deb snatched up the Jagermeister as we ran over the plans once again, each checking that we had mobile phones and maps at the ready.
"Jesus Christ," blasphemed Mark as we stepped off the train. "I didn't think it'd be busy at this time..."
His voice tailed off as he realise that he alone had been assigned to Transport and that whatever he said would not make things any better. Actually, it wasn't that bad once we had left the station and turned onto Friedrichstrasse. Festive decorations were everywhere, someone had even wrapped tinsel around the Bear statue that stood on the corner. The Berlin Bear. We approached Unter den Linden, hearing loud bangs amid the general noise emanating from that direction.
"Ready?" Deb spoke mostly to me, sensing my fear and trepidation.
"Yep. Gehen wir." Let's go. I had said that so often it was wearing thin. But my point was taken and one by one we filtered off to tread our arranged route. Within five minutes I realised the hopelessness of it all. I phoned Deb.
"Deb, it's Chris. You thinking the same as me?" I crossed my fingers, hoping she was having a better time.
"Maybe. Can't see a fucking thing. But we're at the sides - the guys probably have a better view. Where are you now?"
I looked around. I could see only heads and coats, and I dodged to the side and made for the wall.
"By the shop that sells wallets and purses and stuff, you know. Near Stall 8." We had numbered the stalls and drawn them on our maps for reference.
"I'm pretty much opposite you at the other side. Keep going." The line clicked off. My phone rang. It was Mick.
"Hey, Chris, I just remembered, Katja was wearing a red woolly hat this morning. Think she might have it on now?"
I looked around. Red was still not a popular colour in East Berlin. Trust Kat to be wearing something like that.
"It's possible," I shouted over the growing din. "Keep your eyes peeled, and tell the others!" Conversation became impossible, and I shoved my phone back into my pocket.
I put manners and politeness on hold and barged through the crowd for what seemed like hours. I could see the people around me within about a 5-metre radius, and hoped that between the four of us we weren't missing much. It took a good forty minutes to reach the massive arches of the Brandenburg Gate, and I sent text messages to the others to suggest meeting there. Nobody had seen Kat yet, and both Mick and Deb were quietly voicing their concern that it may be an impossible task. I stuck to my guns, however, insisting that we search the opposite side as planned then move back West towards Friedrichstrasse. Demanding that Deb hand over the bottle, I took a long swig, the fiery spirit burning my throat. I paused, then forced another gulp down. My thoughts could not possibly be any more scrambled than they were already.
The bare trees that ran in two lines down the centre of 'Unter den Linden' were decorated with plain, white Christmas lights, not one of them faulty or vandalised. If this had been my home town back in England, the lights would probably now be adorning some thief's front porch, or laying in a thousand pieces on the concrete. It was 11.40pm by the time we reached our starting point, all red-faced and breathless from our exertions. It was hard work, pushing through thousands of people.
"Well?" I demanded expectantly. Two heads shook in response. Mark looked across at me, though, and I felt a flicker of hope.
"I saw a red hat, just one. Towards the South side of the road, about thirty metres back, next to the hot chestnut stall. Could have been her."
I looked at Deb. That was her side of the street. She shrugged.
"I'm the short-arse here. Could have missed it."
I thought for a moment, then shouted above the rising noise.
"I'll go back and check it out. You guys split up again and check out the firework-spotting points we talked about. I'll catch you up. At least I'll get to see the fireworks."
Not harbouring any semblance of optimism, I turned and waded back into the crowd. It was even worse than before, jammed like sardines, and I yelled, in every language I knew, to tell people to get out of the way. It turned out I am fluent in 'elbows', and I arrived at the chestnut stall five minutes before midnight. I stood on a railing, giving me another couple of inches in height, and as I surveyed the crowd I caught a flash of red off to my left. A red, woolly hat, worn by someone of Kat's height and stature. My heart thumped suddenly and my spirits lifted - my subconscious obviously thought there was hope after all. I fought my way over to the elusive red hat as the loudspeaker was announcing the start of the countdown to the New Year.
"Zehn!" Ten. I was twenty feet away, struggling to pass a large, dancing bloke sporting reindeer ears.
"Neun!" Nine. Fifteen feet to go. The figure was definitely female, the coat black leather, like Kat's.
"Acht!" Eight. I shoved a young, pretty blonde aside without any regrets whatsoever.
"Sieben!" Seven. A dozen feet lay between my love and me. Her back was towards me, and I had yet to see her face.
"Sechs!" Six. She lifted a bottle to her lips, her head tilted back. I spotted dark brown hair.
"Funf!" Five. Ten feet away, being jostled from all sides, a can of Stella thrust perilously close to my right ear.
"Vier!" Four. A couple of metres to go. I made a lunge as I spotted a gap.
"Drei!" Three. I reached the red-hatted figure and grasped her shoulder with my right hand, turning her to face me.
"Zwei!" Two. Recognition dawned on Kat's face, for indeed it was she. I grinned at her, unable to speak, and it would have been too noisy even if I'd tried.
"Eins!" One. I pulled her towards me, our eyes locked together, her expression one of surprise and elation.
"Gluckliches neues Jahr!" Happy New Year. Our lips met and we kissed, passionately, with the joy of the occasion, our feelings for each other, a sign of happy times to come.
THE END.
Epilogue
Mark and Deb got married the following summer. Mark was offered tryouts with a top-flight rugby league team, and both he and Deb achieved excellent degrees. Mick decided he loved Germany after all and started a research project in Berlin.
Chris and Kat? Things worked out, for a while. People change, drift apart. Both are happy now.
If you like what you've read, email me, sam_c02uk@yahoo.co.uk
If you don't, also email me, bearing in mind that I'm not a professional writer and this is my first effort. Cheers!