Ingrid And I Continued 
by Lady Luck



After spending the weekend making love with Ingrid, I was on a high. It had
been exhilirating and I was floating on air for days. I had never felt this
way before. Certainly no man had ever made me feel this good, this satisfied
and this fulfilled sexually. Men just like to jump on you, crawl all over you
and then get their leg over and fuck you without due consideration, after
which they roll off, belch, scratch their balls, pick their toes and fart
their arses off. They disgust me but did I hate men or was it just that every
man I've encountered has turned out to be a complete arsehole? I just could
not find the answer.

All I knew was that, after Ingrid, I never wanted another man again. Making
love with Ingrid had been so perfect, so sensual, so warm, so passionate yet
tender and so real, and when I came it was so natural, not forced or faked and
no man was slobbering all over me. I didn't see it as making love to another
woman, rather just making love to Ingrid, a fantastically beautiful and tender
lover, who just happened to be a woman like myself.

So what now? As I thought so long and hard about Ingrid, I put my hand inside
my panties and I was moist. I wanted her again. I thought about how she had
punched out those two arseholes so magnificently during our run and knew that
she was the one for me. Fuck men. Fuck them forever. Ingrid had given those
two exactly what they deserved and I felt that I had found my soul mate at
last.

I resolved to stay with Ingrid, to be with her and share my body with her. I
longed to run my hands all over her again and have her do the same to me. I
was alive with thoughts of Ingrid.

I drove down to Harlow the next day to surprise her. My heart was thumping and
I was aching for her. I couldn't wait for us to be together.

As I approached her house it seemed eerily quiet. It was a Sunday morning, but
nevertheless I reasoned that there should some signs of life. I walked up to
the door and rang her bell but there was no answer. I rang again but there was
still no response and so I peered through the window. There was no furniture.
The house was empty.

I went next door and rang the doorbell and asked an elderly lady what had
happened to the beautiful woman with the long blonde hair who lived next door.
"Oh she moved out during the week," I heard her say, "she left no forwarding
address as far as I know."

I was numb with shock; I felt empty inside and I had a horrible feeling in the
pit of my stomach. My mind was spinning. What had happened? Why hadn't Ingrid
said anything to me? What did I do now? My sexuality had been put to the test
and now I was lost, confused and alone.

Will I find Ingrid? Are our pussies destined to meet again?

Lady Luck