Felicia's Awakening

Felicia's Awakening

I always hated my parents for naming me Felicia. To me, it sounded like an old-lady name. Like I was maybe 100 years old or something. My name became even more painful to me in high school, when all the really cool girls had names like Tiffany, Amber, Brittany. There were four Tiffanies and three Ambers just on the high-school cheerleading squad alone! And here I was, stuck with the name Felicia!

I think being stuck with an old-lady name is why I always retreated into looking like I was still a little girl. Even long after I grew nice big boobs, I would wear my hair in pig-tails. And the nuns at our Catholic high-school encouraged me to stay a little girl: "sex is dirty, sex is an affront to God himself," and so on. I figured God could never get mad at me if I stayed a sweet virginal little girl all my life.

But there were nights when I was in high school...more of them than I care to admit...when I would just lay awake wondering what it would feel like for a boy to hold me so sweetly, so lovingly, so tenderly. What it would feel like to melt into each other's arms as we both kissed each other fierecly, hungrily, passionately. What it would feel like to hold onto the waistband of his trousers as I slowly unzipped him. What his equipment would look like underneath. The girls in high school would talk about cocks and they would giggle, but I hadn't even seen a picture of what a cock looks like, much less seen one in person. I knew if I ever got a chance to see one, though, I would want to hold it, to feel it, to study it, to admire it. It was difficult, but I always managed to banish such thoughts from my mind, and to eventually fall alseep. I always managed to stay that innocent little girl who God would always love.

All that began to change when I went to college. My parents sent me away to the Blessed Heart of the Holy Virgin college for women. For the first time, I was living in a dorm room, living with someone not related to me...and not living with my parents.

My roommate was named Brittany. She had long blonde hair halfway down her back, and a curvy figure that she showed off by wearing her white blouses and plaid Catholic School Girl skirts about two sizes too small. She always had guys hanging all over her, 3 or 4 at a time. Although I knew that envy is one of the 7 deadly sins and a violation of the Ten Commandments, I couldn't help myself. Brittany was so beautiful, so popular...and so comfortable with her sexuality. I wished I could be sexy and popular like that!

On one rare night when Brittany didn't have a date, we actually got to talk to each other for a while. Somehow we got on the topic of people's names, and I told her I thought her name was so cool. Brittany! I said how I hated my name. It sounded like an old woman. Felicia.

"Are you kidding me?" Brittany laughed. "You have a wonderful name! It sounds like 'fellatrix', and every guy I've ever met just loves a skilled fellatrix. So, are you a skilled fellatrix, Felicia?"

I was embarrassed to ask, but I wanted to know. "What's a fellatrix?"

Brittany walked over to her nightstand, opened a drawer, pulled out a magazine, and tossed it on the bed. "Look at the pictures," Brittany smiled. She was being friendly and helpful, and helping me to overcome my embarrassment over my complete lack of sexual knowledge.

I looked at the sexy photo of the hot-looking woman on the front cover. She had no blouse or bra on.

"They're big and beautiful breasts, aren't they, Felicia?" Brittany smiled charmingly.

"Are they?" I asked distractedly. "They don't seem all that big to me."

"They don't?" Brittany seemed surprised.

"Well, I mean, not compared to my own. They seem kinda small to me, actually."

"And you don't have a boyfriend?"

"No. Why? Does the size of your breasts have something to do with having a boyfriend?"

Brittany burst out laughing. "Oh, Felicia! Sweet, innocent, charming Felicia. You still have so much to learn about the ways of men. Guys love breasts. they obsess about them. they all want to see and touch big breasts. Big, BIG breasts."

"Oh?" It was my turn to be surpised now. "Like, howbig?"

Brittany got this curious look on her face. "So, just how big are your breasts, Felicia."

"Hmmm. Well, the bra I have on right now is a 42D. And to tell you the truth, even that's a little tight on me."

Brittany let out a long, low whistle. "42D? Felicia, I am in awe of you!"

"Why? Is that too big?"

"Girlfriend," she smiled, "Men never consider breasts to be too big! Most guys would consider themsleves lucky to find, like, even a 34B. So why do you hide behind your little-girl looks and pigtails? Girl, we gotta get you dressed up sexy, and really show OFF those 42D's of yours. With your breasts, you could have your pick of any guy in this town...even my boyfriend if you wanted him!"

"Oh, Brittany, I could never steal a boyfriend away from a good friend like you!" I then opened to the first page of the magazine she had tossed to me. "So, this magazine can really teach me how to be good to the college boys?"

The first photo showed a woman starting to unzip a guy's pants. Just like I used to dream about doing myself, late at night when I was in high school. I got that old familiar feeling: shortness of breath. A slight dampening in my panties...not like I had to pee, this was quite a different feeling, one I could never quite explain or understand myself. A feeling that I had always been too mortified to even mention or discuss with my super strait-laced mom.

"Exciting photo, isn't it, Felicia," Brittany smiled sweetly, charmingly. OK, this was getting embarrassing now. Did Brittany know, or guess, that my panties were starting to get moist? Would she think I was still a little girl like I pretend to be, like I dress to be, and now I was peeing in my pants? But it wasn't pee!

But I was feeling other things now, too. Part of me wanted to flip further through the magazine, to see what a man looks like under his trousers. I mean, I literally had no idea what this secret part fo the male anatomy even looked like! But part of me wanted to remain that sweet, innocent little girl, who knows nothing about such things, and who would therefore always be one of God's favorites.

And then there was a new sensattion I had never felt before. I began to wonder what Brittany herself looked like naked. Were her breasts really smaller than mine? Did her vagina look as soft and as pink as mine? Did it ever hunger to feel what it was like to make love with a man? Did it moisten when thinking about such things, as mine did? Had hers already experienced what it was like to make love with a man? And if it had, would I be able to tell just by looking at it? Would an experienced vagina somehow look different than my virginal one did?

It was all so confusing, and slightly scary, to me. I was a jumble of curiosities and emotions now. I just set the magazine back down on the bed and began to cry softly. I just couldn't understand what I was feeling, or why. Brittany gently hugged me, trying to comfort and console me. Oh God, I thought, what if she knows that I've been wondering what she looks like naked? I wriggled myself free of her hug now. "If you don't mind, Brittany, I'd rather be alone right now. To sort out my feelings, my emotions. OK?"

"Well, if you'r sure," Brittany replied. "I do have some studying to do, down at the campus library. Are you sure you'll be OK by yourself. Felicia?"

"Go," I sniffled, trying to smile bravely. "Study. I don't want you getting bad grades on my acoount. I'll be fine, Brittany." I'm not sure I was even convincing myself of that, much less Brittany. But finally, reluctantly, she left.

I sat quietly on the bed for a while, collecting my thoughts. Then I picked up the magazine, moved over to the big, soft, comfortable leather couch, and settled in to study Brittany's magazine. I thought about what Brittany had said about what my name sounded like. Felicia. Fellatrix. I could still hear her question, "Are you a skilled Fellatrix, Felicia?" I could still feel my stinging embarrassment over not knowing what that question meant. Could this magazine really tell me what a fellatrix is? And how to be a good one? Was this the secret to finding a boyfriend to love, who will love me? Will God still love me if I have a boyfriend?

I returned to the page where I had left off. The woman unzipping the man's pants. A long, thick ridge under that zipper, pushing the fabric out. Something about that picture dried my tears now, and made me start to smile. The curiosity about what could be pushing his fabric out that tight. The anticipation that the next page might answer my curiosity. Yes, I could definitely feel myself starting to smile now.

Looking at the magazine, I could again feel that odd but familiar gathering of moisture under my panties. I rested my hand in my lap, and I began to gently rub and squeeze myself through my skirt. And I could feel my smile growing wider, too.

I turned the page at last. Now the man's pants were wide open. And there was this long, sort of reddish-pink cylinder pointing straight out in front of him. I had never seen what a man's sex organ looked like, and I had no idea it could be so...well, beautiful! It was so long, so thick, and its shape so pleasing to look at. Although I had no way of knowing for sure, I thought it would feel great to the touch, too. As I studied this photo intently, my hand almost involuntarily lifted the hem of my Catholic school-girl skirt, and I began stroking the front of my white-cotton panties.

"Hmm, what is this hard little nub forming way up here?" I wasn't sure, but it felt good to press my finger against it, through my dampening panties. I turned the page.

Now the girl in the magazine had scootched down, hunching with her knees bent. And her soft, red lips were kissing him, right there. As he kissed his extremely beautiful manliness, her eyes were closed, and she had the dreamiest look of divine rapture written across her angelic face.

Somehow, I knew, I just knew, that if I was ever lucky enough to undress a man myself, I would want to do just what she was doing, to kiss him right there, right on the tip of his big, beautiful, hard, manly love-organ! That happy little thought made my newly-discovered nub, at the top of my panties, start to quiver and throb. So I pushed my panties aside just a little, so my fingers could directly touch where I was throbbing so wonderfully, so enjoyably.

The nuns just had to be wrong. God had loved me all my life. How could He let me feel something that felt so very good, and then hate me for surrendering to what I was feeling. "Sex is dirty and disgusting!" I heard the nuns scolding. But God had created sex to be so enjoyable, so the nuns just couldn't be right!

As I felt the nub between my legs growing bigger and harder, I also felt the center of each of my breasts growing longer and stiffer, too. That, too, felt very good, like God was sending me such pleasure, to show me how much He genuinely loves his good little Catholic college girl, like He was rewarding me for a lifetime of devotion to Him, by letting me feel such intense and joyous pleasure now!

And then I turned the page. The girl's shirt was raised, and I smiled, for I could definitely identify with her. Just like me, she had really big, really round breasts. She was looking up at this man's enormous love organ, almost worshipfully. I felt that I wanted to be the same way, looking up at, and worshipping, what was obviously God's most spectacularly beautiful creation EVER! Well, here, let me show you the picture from Brittany's magazine, so you can see for yourself what I'm talking about!

I definitely, desperately wanted to be in her position. I mean, just look at how beautiful this guy's thing is; don't you envy this girl as much I do? Wouldn't you be worshipful, too, if you were in her position? I know I would be!

And then I turned the page again. The girl had sunk down on her knees, and the man's big, beautiful organ had completely disappered between her soft, red lips. The caption said that she was a "skilled fellatrix"...the very words that Brittany had used. The magazine said that the man so filled her mouth, that part of him was actually in her throat. I could see the outline of his organ pushing against her left cheek, and I swore I could almost see him in her throat, like the magazine described. Well, here again, let me show you the magazine photo I'm talking about.

Now she got comfortable on the bed, and again gently, lovingly kissed his masculinity, before once more taking him into her mouth. This looked like such enjoyment for both of them, and I definitely wanted to do this! As much of this as possible!

So this is what a fellatrix does? It looked so exciting. I knew then and there that I wanted to be a fellatrix, too. And if God truly loves me, as I know that He does, He will help me to the very best fellatrix that I can be, to serve Him, and serve humanity, His special creation, in this very special, loving, devoted, and worshipful way. I had an epiphany right then and there, for I now knew why God had put me on this earth...to devote myself to God and to man, in such a giving and loving way as in this magazine was showing me now. I now knew for certain that Our Lord had put me here on this earth to serve Him, and to honor Him, by performing this helpful and divinely noble service to the benefit of all men everywhere.

The great thing about the path that God himself was pointing me to now, was that I would not only be doing His divine work, but from teh raptorous look on the magazine girl's face, it appeared that I would get great enjoyment out of my chosen and divinely-inspired calling, too.

And now on to the next page. The girl was now lying flat on her back. The superbly beautiful man was above her, and his divine and awe-inspiring love for her was now sliding straight down through her mouth and deeply into her throat. The image in this photo was such beauty, sheer poetry. Her luscious red lips, his thick pink rod, both showing what a truly great artist and craftsman our God is, to have created objects of such inspirng beauty. "Yes, YES!" I cried out in a fervor of religious ecstasy, as I relished this photo. "I will gladly serve You in this way, Oh Our Lord!"

It was all so exciting to me now, God showing me, through the pages of Brittany's magazine, His way, his Divine Plan for me. It was almost more than I could bear. So I set the magazine down, to explore the intensely pleasurable new feelings that God was letting me experience now.

And I had another revelation now, too. It was no accident that I was named Felicia, the name I had hated all through childhood. Now I knew that my name was actually a great and honorable name after all, and that my having this name was His way of letting me know just what my Divine Calling in life was to be. Felicia the Fellatrix.

As I thought about all of this and admired the magazine photos, my left hand lifted my blouse to feel the intense pleasure coursing through my big, hard nipples, even as my right hand moved my white cotton panties even further to one side, to explore the tingling I was so enjoying down there now. God is indeed kind, God is indeed so very loving!

"Oh, thank you, God!" I cried out in great joy. "Thank you for rewarding me, your humble servant, in such a truly wonderful, exciting, and pleasurable way!"

Brittany chose that precise moment to return from the library. From across the room, she called out, "I just came back to check on you. When I left, you were in tears. Are you OK, now, Fel--". When Brittany finally looked at me, she stopped dead in her tracks, in mid sentence. There I was on the couch, not ten feet from her, with my blouse up, my left hand cupping my breasts and massaging my hard nipples, while my skirt was hiked up, my panties pushed aside, and two fingers exploring inside myself, as I cried out my thanks to God for the divine pleasures that He was letting me enjoy now.

Embarrased, I quickly covered up and rose from the couch.

"Don't stop on my account," Brittany laughed. "Looks like you were really having fun."

"God truly is all loving," I smiled, "to let those of us devoted to Him, to experience such joy and rapture inside our own bodies."

"Well, girlfriend. God has especially belessed you, then. With such a beautiful body."

I tried not to sound vain. I know how God hates vanity. But Brittany's compliment warmed my heart so. "Oh, Brittany!" I gushed. "Do you really think I'm beautiful!"

"Oh, yes!" Brittany grinned. "He sure outdid Himself, when He created you, Felicia!"

I don't know what came over me now. I turned around, lifted my skirt, and teasingly lowered my white cotton panties just a little. "What about my ass, Brittany?" I giggled. "Is even my ass beautiful?"

"Its spectacular, Felicia!" Brittany hungrily licked her lips. "Oh, you are so sexy, that mix of little girl pig-tails with a very adult body. Yes, you are one of God's best works!"

I put my finger to my mouth like a child sucking her fingers. "Here's the innocent little girl in me," I smiled, "the devoted little servant of God. And here's the adult part of me," I giggled, pulling my panties down halfway to my knees, showing Brittany my entire naked ass now.

As Brittany admired my bare ass, and as I peered over my soulder in a mixture of little girl and sexual woman, I once more found myself wondering what Brittany herself would look like naked.

I told Brittany how much I had enjoyed the photos of the fellatrix. "I want to do that," I told her. "How do I get started?"

"Well..." Brittany thought about it. "You could start by practicing on something else."

"Like what?"

"Well..." Brittany slowly pondered again. "You already have one finger in your mouth. How about sucking on two or three fingers, to equal the width of a good, hard man? If you can suck on several fingers at once, I guess that's a good first practice step toward your goal of becoming a skilled fellatrix."

I sucked two fingers into my mouth, and giggled, "Like this?" I was surprised how good it felt to wrap my lips around something long, hard, and cylindrical. There was something comfortable and familiar in sucking my fingers like I had when I was a little girl. And yet something new and thrilling, in placing a sexual layer over the act of sucking my own figers now. "Would a man feel this good in my mouth?" I grinned.

"Better!" Brittany assured me. "Believe me, Felicia, a man tastes much, much better than your fingers!" Then she paused. "Or so I've been told, anyway."

I just looked at her in disbelief. "OK," Brittany laughed. "You've got me. I admit it, I've sucked a lot of cocks. And Lord forgive me, but I do so love to suck cock!"

"Oh, Brittany!" I moaned softly. "Picturing your lips wrapped around a man, like the girl was doing in your magazine, has me all wet and tingly between my legs."

"Oooh!" Brittany squealed in delight. "I'd love to see that, Felicia!"

Somehow, I found the courage now to slowly pry my ass cheeks apart with my fingers, and to let Brittany see the glistening moisture between my legs. To see all of my long, narrow, juicy slit revealed to her eyes now.

"Oh, Felicia!" she swooned. "I wish I could just walk right up to you and kiss it! It is that beautiful.

Brittany's kind and sexy words made me feel so good about myself, and so blessed by God to have such a beautiful and sexually-desirable body. I placed my finger right on my quivering, pulsating nether lips, and I felt them getting wetter and wetter by the second.

When Brittany told me how beautiful the bare essence of my womanhood looks, I got so excited that I simply had to slide a finger inside myself, just to calm my quivering and ever-increasing arousal.

When Brittany walked closer and closer up behind me, I realized that her own excitement was growing, too. When she was standing right behind me, she slowly, playfully, slid my white cotton panties down past my knees, over my legs, and down around my ankles. I stepped out of my panties, and my foot kicked my panties up and backward toward Brittany. She caught my panties with both hands, held them up to her face, and inhaled deeply. "Oh, Felicia," she softly moaned. "You smell wonderful! The scent of your pussy is so very...intoxicating!"

"You say the sweetest things, Brittany! You make my pussy positively tingle, the way you compliment it--and me--so!"

"I'm afraid I interrupted your studies when I walked in," Brittany smiled at me now. "I don't want to be the cause of you faliing to meet your dream, of being a great little fellatrix."

"Why don't you study the magazine with me, so we can both be great little fellatrixes...fellatri?"

"If it's all the same to you," Brittany smiled. "I'd rather just stand here and watch you learn. And maybe coach you on the finer points that my magazine maybe doesn't cover.

"Suit yourself," I shrugged, siting back on the couch again, and picking up the magazine where I left off. Only this time, when my skirt rode up, there were no panties to get in the way of my exploring fingers...thanks to the loving way that Brittany had removed my panties from me!

Next page. The man in the magazine was slowly sliding his massive manhood between the woman's legs. Most of it was still outside of her, and looking even harder, and even more beautiful, than before.

Then the next page. Judging by his size in previous photos, I would say about half of him was already in her. She was smiling so happily. "Does that feel as good as it looks?" I wondered aloud. I was getting so wet between my legs now, looking at the man and woman making love, and wondering how that feels.

Somehow, I didn't feel the least bit embarrassed to let Brittany watch me slip first one and then two fingers inside myself. I was just too wet and too aroused to care if Brittany saw. If a man was as big and thick as my two fingers, if he could open me open so wide, fill me so ful, and make me feel so good, well then, I knew that I would just have to go find me a man to make love with...and SOON! As such thoughts raced through my brain, I grew ever more aroused, and I gave Brittany ever more of a show. If anything, having Brittany watch me pleasure myself, rather than embarrassing me, was actually turning me on even more now!

And then I experienced something I had never felt before. My nether lips contracted very tightly around my two exploring fingers. My entire body trembled, from head to toe. I began to moan very loudly. And then I screamed in a great rapture, as the most intense joy washed over me, and I felt like God Himself was giving me a foretaste of what the rapture of Heaven must be like!

"Congratulations!" Brittany smiled so lovingly down at me. "You've just experienced your first orgasm!"

"Do you think God created orgasms?" I asked Brittany.

"I don't know, I suppose so," Brittany shrugged. "The nuns say He is all knowing, all powerful, and the Creator of everything. So yes, I suppose God must have created orgasms, too."

Well, then," I gigled, "Not to blaspheme or anything, but I think that orgasms are the greatest thing that He ever created!

"Do you think," Brittany asked quite seriously, with a studious look on her face, "That when God hurls us headlong into orgasm like that, He is showing us just how very much He loves us?"

"I was just thinking the same thing!" I laughed.

"I didn't think this when I first met you," Brittany smiled, approaching me and shedding her clothes along the way, "with your little-girl pigtails and pious air. But you and I are a lot alike. Soulmates, even. And it would be a true shame, a genuine sin in the eyes of God, if God threw together two such true soulmates like you and I, and we did not honor God by making love with each other." With that, she slowly and gently unbuttoned my shirt, until she could see all of my 42D chest. "Oh, Felicia," she cooed. "God has truly, TRULY belssed you, girl!" Knowing how she likes my mix of little girl and sexy woman, I childishly but suggestively began sucking on my finger, as Brittany continued to sweetly, lovingly, but passionately undress me now.

I let my blouse sexily slip off my shoulders, as Brittany leaned in and hungrily planted a kiss deep inside my cleavage, the sides of my big, round breasts rubbing against her ears.

I slipped out of my blouse entirely now, and I slid it under my breasts, accentuating and emphasizing my achingly-hard right nipple.

"Suck my nipple?" I pleaded sweetly and innocently. As Brittany's lips closed around my nipple, my request turned into a demand. "Oh, YES! SUCK my big, hard nipple!" I moaned.

Brittany and I had great fun all afternoon. But as great as making love with her was, I still wanted to do all the things I had seen in Brittany's magazine. Wrap my lips--the ones on my mouth and the ones between my legs--tightly around a long, thick, hard man.

We both looked at the photos of naked men and women in her magazine again, and this time our fingers explored each other, until we both shook, squirmed, and moaned our way into orgasms.

I worried that Brittany would feel insulted when I told her that much as I love her and enjoy her, I still wanted and needed men. But she just smiled. "I fully understand! I, too, love to play with men." I asked her if she could help me find a man who is a gentle and wonderful lover. She said she thought she could help me with that, and she repeated that she was not at all insulted by my request, and how she fully understood my bisexuality, since she was bisexual, too.

"I hope we can both find good men to love us," I worried. "I mean, they say a good man is hard to find."

"Yes, but a hard man is good to find!" she laughed, as we kissed each other one last time.

1