The butterflies in my stomach are getting out of control.
I haven't felt fear like this in a long time - a dread of something
that is coming, but for which I have no frame of reference.  It
reminds me of when I was a child and did something wrong.  I knew
then that I would be punished - but I had no idea what form the
punishment would take.
        Today, I know I'll be punished, too.  I know it because it
is part of what today is all about.  But I have almost no idea what
the punishment will be.  Or even what I will be punished for.
        Perhaps I should start at the beginning...

        Several weeks ago, I broke up with my latest boyfriend.  It
wasn't because he wasn't handsome and successful (he was a tall,
blond, WASP stockbroker who made well into six figures) or
attentive (he brought me flowers, remembered birthdays and
anniversaries, and shared the domestic drudgery) or fun (we had
similar tastes in sports, movies and other things -and the money
and time to enjoy them).  The whole problem, in fact, had NOTHING
to do with him.  It was me.  I was bored to death with my sex life.
       I've never had difficulty finding partners, as long as I
have been willing, in a crunch, to settle for someone shorter than
me. I'm six feet tall, exactly.  I weigh 141 pounds, have dark
brown hair down to my shoulders, and hazel eyes that seem to
attract as much attention as the rest of me.  At 38B,26,37 I'm a
little too big to model - but I did manage to do a little
commercial work when I was in college.  That was twelve years ago.
       What faced me when I kicked Roger out was that I had never
had a sexual partner who really excited me.  He was as good, stable
and strong in bed as he was out of it, but he didn't do any more
for me than any other guy had.  Not that I'm gay - my one
(relatively recent) fling with an old college roommate said more
about the fact that I wanted a change than it did about a lesbian
bent.  I've had no difficulty climaxing with the men I've been
with, and I've sampled quite a few.  But somehow they never seemed
to treat me the way I wanted to be treated, and I never seemed to
know what to ask for - so it was just more of the same, over and
over.
        One afternoon soon after my breakup with Roger, my
girlfriend Paula and I contacted a bulletin board on her personal
computer. Kidding around, we started chatting with a guy called
Fred who had a good sense of humor and was quite sexy.  He wanted
to engage in what he called "computer sex" - sharing fantasies over
the computer.  For some reason or other, it turned both of us on -
I was really hot instantly.  I didn't want to admit it, for some
reason, but this seemed to be what was missing, after all this
time.  We started into it, and I took the lead.  I did the typing,
came up with most of the wild ideas, and soon we had the guy
admitting that he was playing with himself as he read. Meanwhile,
so were we!  I had my skirt hiked up over my thighs and my hand up
under my panties whenever it wasn't occupied on the keyboard. Paula
was doing the same thing with her left hand - and soon her right
was stroking the inside of MY thigh!
        That really turned me on, but it also frightened me.  I had
never made it with another woman - and Paula and I were best
friends.  I was embarassed to be feeling what I felt, and pushed
her hand away.  She was a persistent little dickens, though, and as
soon as my hands went back to the keyboard, she went back to her
assault on my thighs.  Finally, I gave up and let her do what she
wanted - which was first to lower my panties and play with my
pussy, and later to kneel between my knees while I typed and
slowly, expertly lick me to several climaxes!
        The excitement I had that afternoon was greater than all
the loving I'd had in the last couple of years.  And I didn't only
receive attention. After she had thoroughly wrung me out, she sat
in my place at the terminal and continued our "correspondence". I
knelt in front of her and slowly, tentatively began to play with
her pussy.  It was definitely NOT the same as playing with mine! It
turned me on even more than if I had my own hand burried between my
legs.  As I knelt there with two fingers playing with her clitoris,
the aroma of her reached me and I almost fainted.  Hardly believing
I was doing it, I raised my hand, covered with the juice from her
pussy, to my nose.  The smell was stronger and even sexier than
before.  I couldn't stop my tongue from licking my fingers. The
taste was musky and a little bit metalic -but definitely NOT
unpleasant.  I bent my head and began to lick.  She moaned and slid
down in the chair, her heavily-lidded eyes watching as my tongue
traced the shape of her outer lips.  As I stuck my tongue further
out and up into her pussy, she began to press herself against my
mouth and my face, covering my chin, lips and nose in her juices.
I found her sweet clit with my tongue and began to lick - just as
she had been licking me a few minutes before.  In no time at all,
she exploded.  That was the beginning of a whole new life for me.