(continued from Part 4)The mutual touching that Teresa and I engaged in had progressed throughout middle school to full blown sex. Teresa's appetite knew no bounds. And she always demanded full control by deciding when and where we'd do it, and when it would finish.
I saw Teresa as someone who wanted me and could never get enough of me. That made me feel fulfilled. Teresa gave me the attention I never received from my mother. Wherever we went, even at school, she always looked out for me. I felt protected and secure.
I used to think that Teresa loved me. But I would later find out that really wasn't the case. She liked me, she desired me, and always thought of me, but I don't think she really ever loved me. I used to love her, deeply. Through having sex, I felt such a deep bond with her, like if she was my other half.
Over the years, her taste for sex progressed to where she needed something more intense, more unique, more perverse. She found a great deal of power in just making me orgasm. She learned how to play me like a musical instrument. She knew how to touch me, rub me, in various ways to evoke different responses. She liked to experiment with toys, with orgasm denial, and then just keep me horny on edge all day long and not bring me to cum until my anxiety was so great, she wanted to hear me flat out cry and beg.
She liked to make me orgasm in public and watch me try to maintain my composure, remain still or quiet. It might be in the movie theater, in the school swimming pool, a store dressing room, even at a restaurant.
When we entered high school, Teresa met some new friends who were lesbians. This group hung out with each other during lunch hour and hung out after school at various places. Teresa of course brought me into the group, and she quickly took charge of that group being its most magnetic personality.
I didn't really feel at all comfortable hanging out in this group. I didn't really see myself as a lesbian; I just saw myself as a girl who somehow found a mother-like figure in another girl my age. It's not like I had any kind of attraction to girls, it was just Teresa.
It came to end a couple months into our freshman year, when Teresa invited one of the girls in the group, Frances, to her house after school. I was there too. Frances had already known that Teresa and her mom were nudists. Teresa took off her clothes and laid on the bed, and told me take my clothes off too, which I then did and laid down on the bed too.
"Take off your clothes too Frances" Teresa said with an authoritative tone. Frances paused, but then started taking her clothes off. When she was nude, Teresa held her hand out and Frances took hold of it. Teresa pulled her over by the bed, and she started stroking her pussy. Frances let out a gasp of air and closed her eyes.
I watched but I didn't really care to, and I didn't really want to be involved in this. Teresa pulled Frances on to the bed, and continued rubbing her clit. Frances opened her eyes and looked at with a smile. She used her index finger and motioned for me to come closer to her. I didn't want to however. I got off the bed and picked up my clothes and left Teresa's bedroom. I put on my clothes and left her house. I didn't talk to her anymore, or see her anymore.
By that time Teresa was so sex crazed and power hungry that I no longer felt her wanting me the way she had used to. She had access to so much more sex now. And I was resisting her attempts to push public orgasm to greater limits that she was becoming frustrated with me.
But through Teresa I learned to love being a nudist. Sex with her had mostly been fulfilling though often scary with her need to do things in public. Up until then I never saw myself as a lesbian, but I found that after Teresa it was the company of other girls that I still wanted most.
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