Anne
You end up on your own, just like me. My name is Anne.
Having got rid of a pig of a husband there you are sitting in front of the tele on your own with a cup of tepid coffee. Not the best living in the world so you branch out and meet people at various activities; art, needle work, books and so on and there you meet other ladies who are perhaps lonely. You form a friendship outside the group and eventually you pair up to do outings. J had a husband, Peter, who was much older than her. He was not one for going out; not for any selfish reason but merely because he was not in good health and really preferred to stay in comfort at home. He was a nice chap and as a couple they got on well together. We, J and I, each had a need and each of us began to fulfil that need. J needed to get out to shows and the cinema. I needed her to ease my loneliness. Simple as a b c. That is until nature stirs the pot.
Needs
J was a well-built lady like myself. Full figured and with a pleasing smile; let me say she filled her clothes well and was always dressed beautifully. We matched pretty closely figure wise and presented a good couple. There was a problem.
Sex. I still had a sex drive. Not overpowering, I was no nymphomaniac but I did still think of sex. I could have gone out to one of my clubs and lured some unsuspecting man into bed but that held so many traps. One bastard is enough. You don’t want to shop on that shelf anymore. So the next best thing was a vibrator and the internet. I could pull up pictures of hard cocks fucking model like ladies from now to eternity. The perfect tits made me jealous and most of the men seemed to need a shot of Viagra. The whole thing was unreal. The girls with their tattoos and bad acting: over the top or looking at the camera for encouragement!
I got better at searching and found the ‘grannies’ slot. A bit better, at least I didn’t feel envious, no pert breast there and they seemed a bit more accomplished on the acting front. I rigged the tablet up so that I could lay back and rub myself while watching. Each sequence would start off fine with the man heading for her tits and then getting a blow job and then progressing to a good shag. Again I got bored. The sequences always had some snag that interrupted the action. A pair of knickers would catch on a stiletto heel and a great ballet of legs and arms would ensue while the chap began to flop, fed up with the waiting.
My next improvement was the pause button. Pick a pose and freeze it. No movement to distract just a nice pose with everything in the right place. The vibrator got going and I felt myself getting juicy. Gradually the screen picture merged into my imagined picture and then the orgasm began to thrill. I closed my eyes and let the imagination take over. I came. Oh! Yes!
The advantage of being in a house on your own is that you can shout ‘Oh Yes!’ to your hearts content. I shouted Oh yes as I came, on Jay!
I opened my eyes and there on the screen the still picture had the ‘granny’ laid back with her legs apart taking the big cock into her juicy quim. My mental picture had been Jay laid back and me being the man and fucking her lovely round thigh.
I lay still. The screen went to the sleep position and the bedroom was dim and quiet. My vagina was slowly recovering from its imagined fuck and the vibrator must have run out of battery as it lay in my slit. I had just fucked my friend. My imagination had seen her naked. I had never ever even seen her in her underwear let alone starkers with her tits on view. I lay back with the remembered image. Had I kissed her? In reality we cheek kissed; mwah mwah most of the time. She had once pecked at my lips but I think that was when we both aimed for the same cheek. What would it be like to kiss her properly? I had never considered making love to a woman, never in my entire life. What would it be like? I imagined putting my tongue in her mouth. Feeling her yield. Feeling her tongue against mine, kissing her face, her neck. What would her nipples be like? I imagined them hard in my mouth. Would she respond to my sucking? What was her cunt like? Like my own? I moved my fingers into myself and realised I was still juicy, still aroused. I said her name and wanked off again.
The following weeks were a turmoil. One does not leap onto a friend and ravish them unless one wants to lose a friend. One also watches ones behaviour. No crafty gropes. One does not kiss lips nor touch breasts. One behaves and goes home in the evening and wanks oneself to sleep. That, however, brought another problem to the fore; I began to get hungrier to seduce my friend. I found myself figuring out ways of being closer together. I began to have little fantasies.
Why was there no dancing club in our area? I have seen these things on tele. Nearly always a lack of men so women end up dancing with women. I would take the male lead and we would dance cheek to cheek – bosom to bosom as Joyce Grenfell would have had it, like a stately galleon we’d sail across the floor. Then we would kid each other and say that if this were a normal dance could I take you home afterwards, ‘you know for a bit of a snog’. And Jay would join in the game and we would go home and kiss while we were still in the car. I would put my tongue in her mouth and she would slid her hand up the inside of my thigh… At this point I would climax and drift off to sleep.
What about choosing clothes in Debenhams? Nice tops, ‘come into the changing room and let me know what you think’ she would say and I would obediently follow and get horny as she took off her blouse and revealed her lovely full black bra. Maybe she should try the top without her bra… another dream, another orgasm.
Christmas
Christmas came and J and Peter - her husband, invited me over to join them for Christmas lunch at a big country club. There must have been well over three hundred people there and the place was alive with happy faces beneath Christmas hats. Crackers being pulled and plates piled high with turkey and pork and roast potatoes. A piano played in the background, just loud enough to be heard but not too loud to spoil the conversation. It was brilliant. Then came the mistletoe. Waiters emerged with long sticks from which hung bunches of mistletoe. They were directed by the diners to hover the bunch over the ***********ed lady thus letting the choosing male plant his kiss. It got out of hand sometimes with jolly men lining up for particular ladies, who, I must say, seemed to enjoy it. Gang kiss! The mistletoe hovered over me and Peter duly planted his kiss. It hovered over J and Peter kissed her. Then I took the waiters hand and hovered the pole over J. Peter looked puzzled but I got up and, bending over J who was still seated, I planted my kiss. No I did not push my tongue unto her eager mouth. I let the kiss linger, my lips slightly parted a la Bridget Bardot.
Time stood still. The noise of the room became a gentle wash of sound like little waves on the seashore. J lay her head back and let the kiss remain on her lips. Then I lifted my head and touched her lips with my finger as if sealing a secret.
The party continued its noisy way. No one seemed to have noticed anything odd. The mistletoe waiter – I had already christened him cupid – continued on his way. Peter and J pulled a cracker.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t masturbate that night. I just lay there wondering. Had I gone too far? Would a distance develop between Jay and I, with us eventually losing touch? Boxing day dawned and I made a cup of tea. The day was mine, no excuse for not thinking the situation, the whole situation, through. What questions should I ask?
Question one. Was I a lesbian? The answer seemed to be that I was not. I had enjoyed men all my life and they had enjoyed me. The wicked husband had been some catch to begin with. We fucked until we were exhausted. We had games. On Saturday evening we would go along to the club. I had to leave my underclothes off. What with no support and his request that I wear a sexy dress the evening was quite a juggling act. At any and every opportunity he would touch me, feeling my vulva beneath the silky dress or squeezing my tits to make the nipples stand out, firm and enticing. Eventually, when he started to get more controlling, he invited his mates to do the same. It became a ritual. I would head off for the loo and the appropriate mate would stop me to talk in the corridor and wonder if he could have a little kiss. I would have to pout while he put his hand up my skirt and cupped my bush. Some risked a finger; one guy wanted a blow job! I eventually got my own back when he had to help a mate over something, leaving me at the club. I passed the word to three or four of them to meet me in the snooker room and guard the door. I then let them fuck me to their hearts content, the shag was allowed providing it remained a secret. As I was on good terms with these men’s wives their lips remained sealed. So I liked cock… but I also wanted to make love to Jay. I needed to experiment.
Sarah
Finding a lesbian is not easy. I went on line and found some lesbian groups. I sent a picture, as honest and non-provocative as I could manage and got a load of replies. I think every lesbian in the world wanted to sleep with me. I added the criteria that I wanted to find out if I was a lesbian. This began to narrow the field. I discarded the boastful, ‘you will be after you’ve been to bed with me’, and the timid, ‘I don’t know either lets meet and try it’.
A middle one sent a picture and asked why I wanted to know. She offered to listen to what I had to say. Her name was Sarah. We arranged to meet for lunch, which seemed a safe sort of thing to do.
Sarah was lovely. Slightly shorter than me with a lovely bobbed bell of a hair style. Smiling eyes – mischievous maybe – and a full, well rounded figure. Maybe I should describe her as a man would, sexy and fun. Maybe not.
I told her all about J and the feelings I had for her. She pointed out that if you loved someone you loved someone… end of. After some discussion I told her that what I wanted to know was the answer to the question; was I a lesbian.
‘Do you fancy me?’ she asked.
Her question caught me off guard. Did I fancy her? We had only just met face to face and I knew nothing about her. She saw my confusion and continued, ‘I don’t mean do you fancy me for a lifetimes partnership. I mean do you wonder what it would be like to be naked next to me kissing my lips, feeling my body. Do you think I could be a lovely quick shag, a one night stand?’
My lustful side caused a stir in my tummy. My lustful side said yes that would be nice. Before I could answer she told me not worry about offending her, the meeting was merely to discover whether I had lesbian tendencies. This new angle – lesbian tendencies – introduced a new thought. Not a lesbian but and woman with lesbian tendencies.
Do you fancy me? I asked, ‘on those terms?’
‘Very much.’ She said. ‘Shall we have some more wine?’
So there I was getting randy on lunchtime white wine. Having my lustful ego urged on by this sexy lady. She leaned over and whispered that she wanted me to fuck her, even if it was just once. We agreed my house and spent the afternoon together. She was lovely. I kissed her and then lifted her jersey off. Her pink bra was filled with her gorgeous tits and I sucked them off while her hands felt mine. She told me that I was dominant.
‘You lead the way. French kiss and tit cupping until I am crazy to feel your cunt. You like me talking as well. Like me talking about sex in a dirty way, cunt, tits, bum. No fancy stuff. Finger my clit you lovely woman then I want to lick your juicy cunt until you start coming.’
I must have come about a hundred times that afternoon. I must have licked every inch of her body. In the end we reached the conclusion that a fuck was a fuck and love was the icing on the cake. She made me promise to persevere with J but, should I ever be in need of a soft, warm fuck her legs would be open and ready any time.
So I was bisexual. This was heady stuff. I had just had my first woman. I felt a great freedom. I could go to some gay bar and choose a nice looking bird, just like a bloke. Take her home and fuck her rotten… and probably catch something nasty. I had to remember that I was not a whore. I had to focus on something more genuine, something worthwhile. I had to have Jay.
New Year
My New Year resolution was simple… you guessed it; Have Jay. We continued as before. No mention was made of the Christmas kiss. A good sign or a bad sign? I couldn’t tell. I had no idea what to do. Sometimes I thought it might be good to split the load; love Jay and fuck Sarah. At one point I did ring Sarah and she came over for tea and sex. As I looked at her spread out on my bed I thought it might be a good idea to keep Jay as a friend. Sarah lay with her legs apart. She stroked her quim as she watched me undressing. She saw me as a sex object and I behaved accordingly, boosting my tits up before I took my bra off. Putting my hand down the front of my knickers and fingering myself. She watched and wanked like the men in my snooker gang bang had watched, keeping their cocks stiff until it was their turn. I bent down and licked her lovely cunt.
‘Do you ever have a man? I asked her.
‘Sometimes. Paul.’
‘Paul; young old, gay straight.?
‘Yes’.
She laughed. ‘He is young and bi. We get together for some of the exotic stuff.’
‘Exotic?’
‘Yes, you could try some if you like.’
‘Threesome?’
‘Threesome’.
‘Tell me’.
‘Paul is twenty something and lithe. He has a perfect body and, the icing on the cake, a lovely penis. Goldilocks.’
‘Goldilocks?’
‘Not too big, not too small but juuuust right.’ We both laughed. ‘And he can fuck for ever. Never seems to get tired, never seems to lose that perfect hard on. You’d love him. You could watch him fuck me; big cock right the way in and me pulling his bum to get more and more. Then I could watch while you sucked him off…’
‘You lovely dirty bitch…’ I climbed astride her face. She Frenched my cunt until I came.
From such heady pleasures I felt I should withdraw. I was gradually becoming a sex maniac and that role would not play well with Jay. I had to keep my head and tread carefully with Jay. We went to the pictures.
Special effects
When you are young horror movies are just that, horrible. They make you cover your eyes and want to hide under the seat. As you get older so the horror decreases and you go to see ‘serious’ films, which generally turn out to be boring. A good science fiction is worthwhile and we both wanted to see Red Sky which had a really good write up. Computer generated images have made the scope really wide. Unfortunately the sound man still wants to get his penny’s worth and nearly deafens you in the attempt. A massive explosion is fine as you know it is coming. It’s the little surprises that get you. Sure enough a little alien exploded and J grabbed my hand. We sat there like scared children holding hands. Reassuring for J, a big turn on for me. Just holding her hand.
We stayed like that for the rest of the film, kneading, squeezing. Exploring each other’s fingers. When the end came we stood up and got our coats on and found our bags.
‘Thank you for holding my hand,’ Jay said, ‘silly really, a grown woman frightened in the pictures.’
I reached out and took her hand and held it, looking into her lovely eyes.
‘I enjoyed our Christmas kiss’, she said, ‘could I have another one? Please’. I leaned forward and kissed her lips. She pressed closer and pulled me further in. I opened my lips just little and felt her response. She opened her lips for me and I pushed my tongue gently into her warm mouth. We stood like that for a long time. The cinema had emptied and the staff were clearing the rubbish left by the audience. They worked round us seeming not to notice two older women snogging passionately, for that is what we were doing.
Finally we pulled away and began walking toward the foyer.
‘I need a cup of coffee,’ Jay said and led the way to the cafeteria. We sat with two latte’s between us. J spoke first. ‘I haven’t upset you have I?’
‘I was worried that I had maybe upset you,’ I replied. ‘I thought maybe the Christmas kiss was a little too far, a little too brazen. You haven’t upset me. I have wanted to kiss you for ages but felt too shy. Upset me? You’ve made me so happy.’ I stopped. It was early days yet. If I came on too strong it could frighten her off. I cooled down.
‘Maybe we should cease to be friends…’
‘No…’ I felt that I had blown it. ‘No…’
She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Listen. Maybe we should cease to be friends and become lovers. Lovers. I want to kiss you again, I want to be your lover and you my love. We must have drunk the coffees but I have no recollection of that happening.
Lovers
We started slowly. It was almost like being an adolescent again. No mention was made of sex just as no mention had been made in my first dates. Mostly boys made me laugh – secret for men, make a woman laugh and she’s getting her knickers down before you know it. We opened up and smiled. We kissed on the lips, no, not always a tongues job but once, after a particularly naughty joke, she squeezed my left breast.
‘See, they are real,’ I said cheekily
‘I was hoping so,’ she giggled and I touched her breast for the first time, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘I think you will find them ripe,’ she said then cupped her own breasts, ‘try these for size…’ I was about to when the lift stopped and the ‘doors open’ announcement sounded. We pulled our coats closed. J smiled, ‘best to save that until they are on display,’ she said casually as we pushed past the people waiting to get in. My heart flipped.
Sex
That was the beginning or our sex life. Neither had any idea how to proceed nor had we mentioned anything in our past history. I rang Sarah.
‘Start talking about your past sexual experiences, you’ll soon find what path to follow. Basically you’ll find you start talking about the sort of thing you like. You like pushing your hand up my skirt. Not too many people would consider that to be greatly erotic but I know that you get breathless as you get near the top of my thigh. You forget to breath.’
She was right. Just talking about it and I was beginning to feel the softness of her thigh. ‘You are so clever’ I said.
‘And so randy,’ she laughed, ‘get off the phone and go fuck your sweet lover.’
Jay and I went to church. Not to pray I hasten to add but just to talk. Most places in town were too public. There was always someone eager to join the conversation and tell you about the bargain they had just bought. The big church in the centre of the city was always open. Nobody interrupted and the place was never too full. Sitting in a quiet corner we could talk freely. I asked about her sex life, she knew a bit about me, talking about a crap husband is part of the bonding between women. Funny that, good husbands are just that. Good husbands. Fine, nothing to report. Jay still had a husband, Peter, a good husband but older than her. Their sex life had faded.
‘He was fine in the beginning; younger wife, eager for sex and all that but although good in bed he was never experimental. Not exactly wham bam thankyou ma’am but near enough as to make no difference’
‘Were you ever unfaithful?’ I asked.
‘Twice.’
My ears pricked up (excuse the pun). She had been unfaithful. ‘Well?’ I raised my eyebrows.
‘Once with a guy in the office. He was so sexy I couldn’t resist. We would drive out into the forest lunch times and have it in the car. He was brilliant.’
‘Inventive?’
‘I was the inventive one. He used to drive fast and I would get his prick out and play with it; like a second gear lever. By the time we had parked up he was nearly there. I would get out and lean against a tree, no knickers for this outing and he would take me hard. I loved it. I would suck him off sometimes – time of the month – and take his shot between my tits.’ I could feel the word ‘tits’ drifting about the church. I was still waiting for our first screw.
She asked about me. I hesitated. She asked what the matter was.
‘Well… the problem is it was pretty naughty. You could end up thinking I was a slut…?
‘With a bit of luck,’ she laughed.
I told her about the snooker room.
‘A gang bang!’
‘Shush!, you can’t say gang bang in church.’
She smiled. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
I wondered what to say. The idea of a group of hungry men waiting to sate that hunger with your body was exciting. The stiff, fresh penis nosing its way into your quim is lovely. Hot, hard, hungry and going like a steam train. Some reaching a climax and then being replaced by the next hard cock. Hands fondling your tits. Balls that you can cup while his cock throbs in your mouth. On the other side of the coin, it is distracting. Laying on your back you are really in charge. Who will be next, should you suck Jim’s cock or Harry’s?
‘Yes and no,’ I answered and told her the reasons. Then I remembered.
‘Twice, you said’?
‘We, the guy from the office and me, went off for an evening session. A brief bit of spare time and we headed off into our usual spot for a fuck in the car. Half way through another car arrived and we had to stop fucking and pretend to be tourists sitting looking at the trees. Me knickerless and him with his handkerchief over his hard on. Nothing happened for a while and then the guy got out of the other car and began to shine a light into his car. Then we realised that there was a blonde in the back seat and the guy in the passenger seat was reaching over and playing with the blonde’s tits.’
‘Dogging?’
‘You’ve got it. Two and two made four and we realised that the light was a video camera. They looked over at us but didn’t seem that interested and Sam, the guy from the office, became quite interested. Particularly when the blonde got out, bent over and started sucking the camera man while the passenger took her from behind. I reached over and had a feel of Sam’s cock. He was obviously enjoying the spectacle. That was when my dark side surfaced. I wanted to be fucked and have an audience. I got out of the car, walked round, bent over and signalled Sam to fuck me doggy style. If he hesitated I never noticed. He was up me so fast. His hands were under my suspender belt, reaching round and feeling my belly. He was so randy; almost tripping over himself in his eagerness. I had to stop him. My dark side did not want him to shoot his bolt too soon. I stood up and looked over at the other car. The camera man gave the camera to the friend; they too had stopped with the blonde now facing me. He came over and introduced himself. “John. My wife would like to change places. No sweat, if the answer in no that’s just fine.”
That is when my dark side took the reins once more. Who would I get?
“Your choice, Me, Derek or Sonja if you like or all three.”
‘All three!?’
‘Shush! We’re in church.
‘I looked at Sam. He looked at me and my dark self chose the camera man. “But I want Sonja after Sam has finished. I’m Jay by the way.”
‘The cameraman nodded and reached out for me. He was a good looking man, taller than Sam and he smelled lovely. He had a really big cock. Without even thinking I took him in my mouth. His balls were big and soft and his cock responded. He fucked me and then Sam and Derek came over. I wandered over to Sonja. She was beautiful. Full breasted, wide mouth. I pushed her down on the back seat and went down on her. Her cunt was wet and tasted of Sam. As I licked her so I felt Derek’s cock push its way up my vagina. Sam put his cock into Sonja’s mouth… They all took turns at fucking me. Sonja made me cum as a thank you for her own female induced orgasm. We never met again but Sam and I had many a good shag on the strength of it.’
‘Jesus Christ!’ I said.
‘Shush… OK, but say it softer.
And so we had confessed; shown our credentials. The fact that she had admitted to having had a woman soothed me no end. The fact that we had both been gangbanged – the term sounds too harsh, shared maybe? Although that makes us sound like a dessert course. The fact that a number of men had fancied us at the same moment in time and that we had offered them relief? Gangbanged. Both of us choosing it, both of us enjoying it. How my eyes had opened. I now saw Jay in a different light.
The afternoon
We both agreed on skirts. We both agreed on buttons for a top or dress I chose a dress with buttons down the front. We both agreed on high heels and stockings; tights were a nuisance I had discovered on the porn sites. They do not come off easily, nor elegantly. Stockings. I had to buy some it was so long since I had worn them.
Dark lipstick, high heels, stockings and suspenders and the briefest pair of knickers I had ever worn. A right tart for my hungry friend. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror. I looked good. Black bra and suspenders, black stockings and high heels. I lifted the skirt of my dress and stood, legs apart. The doorbell rang.
Jay looked lovely. She wore a flowered dress, low cut to show her cleavage. Her shoes were proper stiletto’s, the heels the highest I had ever seen. She had tied her hair back into a short pony tail held by a bow. Her lipstick was pink, her eyeshadow pale blue. We kissed and fumbled up the hall and into the lounge. She felt so soft beneath the light dress. All my careful plans were in tatters. I wanted to kiss and lick and fuck and be undressed and showing off and… Jan stopped me.
‘Let me be the ringmaster,’ she said. She took command of my house. ‘Sit down over there. I’m going to let you ogle me. No touching until I say so.’
I sat down in my favourite arm chair, opposite the settee.
‘Sprawl back,’ she ordered. I sprawled as louchely as I could. ‘Legs apart, you are ogling me.’ I undid the bottom buttons of my dress, letting it fall open, parting my knees as no woman ever does unless she wants to show her knickers in public. She stood up and began to move about the room, slowly as if it were the first time she had seen it; a buying a house sort of look. I then realised that she kept touching herself. She turned to face my and began to pull her frock up, as if she were looking in a mirror. I was the mirror. She gathered the material of her dress and bunched it into a ball, pushing it against her vulva. She untangled the ball giving me a glimpse of her pale blue panties. She pushed her hand down the front of her briefs and began to feel herself. I reached into my dress and did the same. She pushed the briefs down and began to ease them over her wide hips, all the time letting the skirt hide and then reveal her lovely mound. She stepped out of them and pulled the frock right up to take it off. No bra. I pushed my finger into my own vagina. Her tits were smaller than mine but still full and presenting taut nipples. I would have sucked them but the rule was no touching until she said. She came right up to me, her legs apart, her quim was so near.
‘Kiss.’
I pushed my mouth into her soft furry bush, felt her heat through the curls, felt the top of her slit guarding her clitoris. Smelled her perfume mixed with her woman smell. She clenched her bum pushing the slit against my lips. I put my tongue out and tasted the sweet salt of her juice. I pushed my finger into my own juicy cunt.
‘Take me up stairs’ she whispered. ‘I want you to fuck me.’ I led her up to my bedroom. She sat on the end of the bed, naked except for the pale stockings. ‘If you were a man I would get your cock out and suck it hard. Strip for me, be my man, dominate me.’
I took my briefs off, gathering the dress much as she had done. I imagined myself a man, my cock big and throbbing as I stood in front of this randy naked lady. I reached and hauled the dress off. My black bra pushing my tits forward. She started to rub herself, running her hands over her body, into her quim, over her soft belly, up to feel her tits. She leaned forward and cupped my cunt, slipping her long finger into the hot, juicy cave. I urged forward working on her hand.
‘What a lovely big clit you have,’
‘All the better to fuck you with,’ I said quoting the big bad wolf.
‘Show me your tits.’ She ordered. I slipped off my bra letting my own tits spill over the cups. She lay back and pushed herself up the bed. I climbed on top of her, pushing my thigh hard against her mound. She pushed her thigh hard between my lets and I started to work. I kissed her neck then pushed my tongue into her mouth. She sucked it as she would have sucked a hot hard cock. I found her tits and sampled their softness. I went up on my elbows and she found my full, soft heavy breasts. I began to pant. Now I was finally fucking Jay, really fucking her with all the energy and love I could muster.
A man’s cock is devised to deliver sperm into the female. He fucks to stimulate the orgasm which, in his case, causes the ejaculation. Once that has been done his job is over. The vagina now starts its own program; it sucks. It ripples to urge the cum up into the female. It does that blindly and with practice it can be persuaded to continue doing it as the woman wishes. This is why women are fine with group sex; they can kid or they can continue. The men rapidly get soft and droopy. A side effect of this vagina action is that an orgasm can be continued for a long time. With practice a very long time. I came and then continued to cum while Jay writhed beneath me. I could feel the ripples of pleasure shaking her body. I slid down and began to lick her lovely hot quim. More ripples of pleasure. I moved beside her and she began to push her tongue into my quim. I came and came again. We licked each other. I sucked her tits, she sucked mine. We did a sixty-nine. We scissored – Sarah had taught me that - pushing her lovely quim against my hungry one. We finally lay back, exhausted.
‘You are a lovely fuck, Anne.’
‘That’s because I am fucking the most beautiful woman in the world. I want to fuck you for ever.
Play time
Over the next few weeks we began to know each other even better. We confessed our previously unstated love. I discovered that when I went home and wanked off so Jay had done the same. The centre of attention now moved to my house and we built up a wardrobe of outfits that we could play with. Jay apologised one day in not looking her best. ‘Load of rubbish,’ I said. You’d look fine in a black sack. She went downstairs to the kitchen promising to bring a cup of tea up. I heard her moving around and lay back on the bed. She came back up, wearing a black plastic rubbish bag. She had cut a hole in the bottom for her head neck and arms and now pranced around the room looking very sixties. Naked underneath we soon discovered that the thin plastic made feeling each other very exotic; almost forbidden. We cut another sack and slid round on each other. I played with her tits, hot beneath the black cover, like a child feeling a Christmas present. She wanked me off, the plastic shushing to the movement of her hand.
Finally
Peter died at the end of the year. Jay was devastated, she had lost the kindest man she ever knew. I did not see much of Jay during this time. She stayed at home most of the time. As spring approached so she got back to normal. We had a few meals but, oddly, we never had sex in her house. She explained that the space belonged to Peter and her as a married couple. Summer came and we had sex in my house. More gentle than before as if in respect. Finally we got talking. Finally we sold both houses and moved to Italy where we could see paintings of Venus by Botticelli, Venus with a veil bunched up and pressed against her vulva. We married in Florence a year later.
