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On The Journey Home

Category: Lesbian Sex
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I suppose I couldn’t really claim to be the innocent party that night, because subconsciously I knew exactly what I was doing even if I just let things happen.

I was on my way home after being away on business and I’d pulled into one of those late night places that serve lukewarm coffee and burgers that seem to be made of a cross between carpet and cardboard.

At the time I wasn’t sure why I’d stopped because I only had another thirty or forty miles to go, but I figured later that it was because I just didn’t want to face going home.

The reason for that was that I was pretty certain my husband was cheating on me, and so I’d told him I’d be away for a couple of days longer than I actually expected to be, with the intention of catching him in the act when I got home unexpectedly early. But in reality I was scared of the truth, petrified that I was right and he’d be in our matrimonial bed with another woman, and so I was putting off the inevitable confrontation. Yeah, I know, cowardly isn’t it? You’d think that a thirty-four year old business woman who was used to facing down highflying men in their own boardroom would be able to cope with a cheating spouse in her own bedroom wouldn’t you, but that’s the way it was. And so there I sat, head down, a soulful look on my face, gazing into my muddy coffee and wondering what to do next.

‘Are you all right?’

The voice brought me out of my gloomy reverie and back into the real world with a bump. I looked up and gazed around, startled.

‘Are you okay?’ The voice repeated.

It came from the next table across, where a smart blonde woman in a blue summer dress was staring across at me and looking very concerned.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I assured her. ‘Just miles away in thought.’

‘You looked worried to death.’

‘A few things on my mind, that’s all.’

She slid across and came to sit opposite me, still wearing a mother hen look. She was a few years older than me and probably for that reason her action seemed to show genuine concern rather than nosiness.

‘Anything I can do?’ She said. ‘I’m good at listening if nothing else.’

‘Just marital problems.’ I told her, glad of someone to talk to, but not wanting to go into too many details. ‘Being married isn’t always easy.’

‘Sometimes I’m glad I’m single,’ She told me with a smile, raising a ring-free finger to show me.

‘Sometimes I wish I was.’

She seemed to understand that it would be a good time to change the subject. ‘I’m Celia, by the way. What brings you this way anyway?’

‘Barbara, or Babs when I’m not working.’ I introduced myself. ‘I’ve been away on business, now I’m on my way home and don’t really want to be.’

‘Oh dear, things must be really bad if this place is preferable.’ She swept a hand around to indicate our shabby surroundings. ‘But then I suppose any place is better then somewhere you don’t want to be.’

Her perceptive remark had me nodding in agreement and I was soon able to relax a little. Before long we were chatting about life in general and nothing in particular and I found that I enjoyed her company, so much so that the time slipped past without my noticing. Or maybe I was noticing it but my mind was pretending not to. In any case it wasn’t until the waitress came over to say that they were closing that I was made properly aware of how late it was.

‘Damn.’ I said, looking out and watching raindrops glittering in the streetlights and bouncing from the asphalt surface of the road. ‘I hate night driving in the rain.’

‘Far to go?’ She asked.

‘Further than I’d like in this weather.’ I prevaricated without understanding why.

‘So why not stay over somewhere and drive on tomorrow.’

‘Good idea, except that it’s too late to book in anywhere now.’

‘Yes, perhaps it is.’ She nodded thoughtfully before her face abruptly brightened. ‘But you can stay at mine if you like, I’m only just up the road and I have a spare room.’

I still couldn’t face the possibility of finding my husband with his mistress and so the unlikelihood of such an invitation didn’t hit me then. ‘Thank you, I’d like that. If you’re sure.’

Her place was indeed just up the road, only a couple of hundred yards from where we had met, and at the time it never occurred to me to wonder why she was sitting in a cafe when she lived so close. It was quite a small two bedroom house, with a small front yard and neat little porch that was just big enough for us both to shelter in while she fiddled for the key.

‘Come in, I’ll make some coffee.’

She ushered me through into a compact but very warm and comfortable lounge whilst she disappeared into the kitchen. But it wasn’t coffee she was carrying when she came back, but a brandy bottle and two glasses. I must admit that I’m not a big drinker, alcohol quickly goes to my head, but it would have seemed rude to refuse and anyway brandy was a welcome alternative to the coffee I’d endured earlier.

We carried on chatting while working our way through a couple of glasses of brandy each, and this time we did talk a little about our personal lives. Celia had never been married, and so her question about why I didn’t simply retaliate in kind just sounded a little naïve more than anything. I had been tempted, by a sales rep the night before for one, and I told her so, but I’d never seriously considered it. “I would” she informed me, and I believed her.

Eventually it became late and I began to yawn, and so she excused herself while she went to get my room ready. I was feeling a lot better by then, relaxed, contented and quite mellow, and perhaps that is why I didn’t react when she came back with a strange look on her face.

‘I’ve got a problem, Babs.’ She began. ‘I’d forgotten I’d got decorators coming in, and the spare bedroom has been stripped ready for them. There’s no way you can sleep there.’

My hand flew to my mouth with sudden panic. ‘But I can’t drive after drinking all that brandy.’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my mistake, I should have remembered. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep down here on the sofa.’

‘But I can’t kick you out of your own bed.’

‘Yes you can. It’s my fault, I invited you and I gave you the brandy.’

I still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea; it was too much of an imposition on a comparative stranger.

‘No I can’t.’ A sudden thought went through my head. ‘Is it a double bed? Because if it is we can both sleep together, if you can stand sharing that is?’

‘Well yes, we can, but are you sure you’d want to?’ She asked doubtfully.

Normally, of course, I’d not have dreamed of sharing a bed with a strange woman, but brandy and necessity said otherwise.

‘Of course I’d want to, I’m just grateful for a bed for the night.’

It was also brandy that banished any coyness as we both got ready. I kept my panties on under my nightshirt because removing them seemed a step too far, but otherwise I had no qualms about undressing in front of Celia, or she in front of me. In fact she made no attempt to hide the fact that she shaved her pubes when she stepped out of her briefs before pulling on her pyjamas. It must be said that she had a fabulous body for someone probably in her early forties, her large breasts were still firm and her stomach was as flat as a pancake. My own rounded belly and slightly pendulous breasts could take lessons.

We climbed into bed together, Celia leaned out to switch off the bedside light and then we said our goodnights and settled down for sleep.

I’m not sure how long it was, but I’d reached that hazy plateau somewhere between waking and sleeping when I felt a soft touch against my back. At first I took it to be an accidental touch from a hand stretched out in sleep, but then I felt it move, lightly caressing my back, gently but deliberately stroking me through the thin cotton of my nightshirt. There was nothing else, just the soft touch of her hand wandering over my back.

I suppose I should have reacted, made it indignantly clear that I wasn’t that sort of woman, that I wasn’t gay or even bisexual, but it felt nice, warm and friendly, and so instead I pretended sleep and just let it continue. The surprise of it was that I wasn’t surprised. I think that somewhere at the back of my mind was the knowledge that all along Celia had been making a play for me, that all her actions had simply been a ploy to get me into her bed where she could seduce me. I’d been denying the obvious, but now I couldn’t deny it anymore. The next surprise was that I didn’t mind. My husband was getting his pleasure elsewhere so what the hell, why shouldn’t I? In any case, if it became too much to handle I could just as easily pretend to wake up and then stop her.

But just at that moment I had no intention of stopping her for a while, it was far too nice, a silent expression of warmth as her hand moved slowly and softly across my back, roaming further as she gained in confidence, touching my shoulders and then moving down to the base of my spine, to the first curve of my bottom, before making the journey back up. I just lay there and enjoyed it, struggling to control my breathing, trying not to let her know I was awake. I was beginning to get turned on whether I wanted to or not.

I wondered how long she would keep going for, wondered if she would simply stop or if she would take things further, and I wondered how I would respond if she did. I was pretty sure that she would, because I could hear arousal in her breathing, and so I was fighting a silent battle with myself, wanting it to simply carry on as it was, but only too aware that it couldn’t. But would I let her take it further? Did I want her to take it further? I didn’t know for sure one way or the other, part of me was screaming yes, but another, less adventurous part, was yelling an equally loud no, but meanwhile I just enjoyed her wandering hand.

She began to include my arm in her caresses, fondling my shoulder and then running down almost as far my wrist, her fingers moving over the short sleeve onto my skin, touching so lightly it was raising goose bumps. God, but it felt so good.

And then it felt even better. Her fingertips, moving back along my arm, touched my breast as they went past. I’m sure it was inadvertent, but that brief contact sent a jolt of pleasure through me and I couldn’t prevent a tiny murmur of pleasure escaping my lips. The time for pretence was past, and my mind had been made up for me. Celia knew I was awake now, and more significantly, she knew I was enjoying her touch. I rolled onto my back, automatically glancing sideways into the dark at where I knew she would be.

‘Okay?’ She whispered as if she knew I’d looked at her. I nodded my affirmative, then realised she wouldn’t be able to see me.

‘Yes.’ The word came out as a quiet croak. ‘I’m fine.’ I stared at the invisible ceiling, nervous but excited.

I sensed a smile and her hand began to touch me again, this time running softly over my front, stroking my arms, my stomach, my neck and my breasts, always moving, never remaining in any one place, sending thrill after thrill coursing through me. The whole thing was bothering me; I shouldn’t be liking it this much.

I wanted her to touch my breasts, to concentrate on them instead of wandering all around me, and so I deliberately let out a little pleasure sound each time her fingertips skated over them, involuntarily giving an extra loud one when she caught my nipple as she passed. She didn’t stop moving, but now her fingers paused as they reached my breasts, cupping them and squeezing a little before passing on. It was the first overtly sexual move and we both knew it, and I deliberately moaned with pleasure to encourage her.

I was sure she must have already known that I was turned on, my nipples were like bullets and my breath was getting louder to my own ears, but she still didn’t push things, she just carried on touching me with that one hand, stroking and caressing me, letting me feel comfortable with what she was doing. I knew that she would move on when she figured that she and I were both ready and until then she continued massaging my breasts, making me feel wonderful without stretching my limits too quickly.

After a while she shuffled a little closer, close enough that I could feel her breath on my face, and her hand began to wander further, reaching down over my stomach and nearly, so nearly reaching my pubic mound. I wanted to be touched more intimately, I can’t deny it. Even through my nightshirt and my panties I knew that her touch would be wonderful. I parted my legs, not a lot but enough to send the right message. Her fingers tiptoeing across my stomach felt my legs move and she responded as I had hoped, exploring further, her hand going down and down until her palm cupped my mound and I gasped with pleasure.

She moved closer still, so that I could feel her next to me, softly trapping my arm against my side. I pulled it out of the way, threading it around behind her head to rest on her shoulder in the gentle semblance of an embrace, letting her move right up against me, making me conscious of the softness of her breasts even through our clothing. I could feel her breath on my cheek and I knew our faces were only an inch or two apart, and I couldn’t help myself. I turned my face towards her, feeling her lips brush against my cheek as I turned. She backed away, but I followed, finding her lips, letting my own open mouth rest against hers, not actively kissing her but just becoming accustomed to the contact.

She moaned softly into my mouth, a sound full of both need and contentment, the first pleasure sound I had heard from her, and at the same time she pressed her hand more firmly against me, pushing down over my pubic mound so that she could rub her palm over my pussy.

That did it for me, I surrendered. She would do whatever she wanted and I would want whatever she did. My tongue sought hers and our lips moulded together as I pulled her to me, my legs opening further, telling her of my capitulation. She tugged at the hem of my nightshirt, reaching under it to press her hand against the crotch of my panties, rubbing my pussy as we kissed, making me hotter and making me want her even more. I was feeling randier than I had done for years and the beginnings of an orgasm were already building. I didn’t mind coming so quickly because I was already sure in my own mind that Celia would make me keep coming until I was totally spent. I wondered suddenly if I would be able to do the same for her.

That thought had an amazing effect on me, multiplying my arousal and bringing me closer to orgasm simply because with it I had acknowledged that wanted to touch her, to give her pleasure, to make her come as strongly as I was on the verge of doing. I pulled my mouth free, wrapped both arms around her and held her close, hugging her fiercely as my climax drew nearer.

‘Harder.’ I gasped ‘I’m coming.’

My hips started to rotate of their own free will; I really was going to come.

‘Come then,’ She whispered back, rubbing me through ever more forcefully through the thin material of my panties. ‘I want you to.’

I wanted to come for her, I needed to come for her, I did come for her. My orgasm was like an explosion inside me, shock waves rushing out from my pussy and surging all the way through me, making me arch my back and grab onto Celia as hard as I could. My pelvis jerked and twitched as I thrust myself at her hand, and all the time I gasped and called out incoherently. Though short, it was the strongest climax I think I have ever had and when it subsided I lay back onto the bed, gasping for breath and with my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. Celia’s hand was still between my legs, but now it lay motionless as if to comfort my throbbing pussy.

‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’ The voice came from the dark, carrying with it a sort of triumphant giggle. Her smile would now be a grin, though I couldn’t see it.

‘Can you switch the light on please? Just the bedside one.’ I needed to see her face, to see if she was truly pleased with what she had done, or just gloating over another conquest.

‘Yes, sure.’ She sounded curious, but I heard her moving up to reach for the light switch.

‘I’m a lights on sort of person.’ I explained, breathlessly telling a partial truth as the warm yellow glow of the little bedside light spread over us.

‘Me too.’ She was kneeling on the bed gazing down at me, and the expression on her face seemed to contain genuine warmth. I smiled at her, happy now.

For a moment or two we just smiled at each other, sexy thoughts running through our heads, and then she began to unbutton her pyjama top.

‘Good idea.’ I told her, and scrambled to my knees, reaching for the hem of my nightshirt at the same time.

‘You look good.’ She announced as I dropped my nightshirt over the edge of the bed. I looked back at her, dressed now only in her pyjama bottoms, and thought how wonderfully sexy she looked too. I’d not looked at her in that way when we got into bed, but now I wondered why not.

‘I’m not on my own.’ I replied, taking in her youthfully feminine figure, unable to ignore her full breasts with long dark nipples so erect and inviting.

Again we just stared at each other for a few moments and then her hand came out towards me, her fingertips surprisingly hesitant as they stroked my breasts. I closed my eyes, soaking up the sensation of Celia’s fingers just lightly going from one breast to the other, hardly touching with anything more than gentle fingernails skating over my skin. It was a delightfully erotic feeling, made even more so by my still being hot and shaky from my orgasm, and it was almost too beautiful to bear.

‘Oh Celia.’

I opened my eyes and moved towards her, still on my knees, until we were up against each other, her hard nipples pressed very softly onto the soft skin of my breasts. Unable now to easily move her hand between us, she suddenly wrapped both arms around me and pulled me close, squeezing her bullet nipples into my flesh, making me gasp softly, partially from the embrace and partially from the absolutely wonderful feeling of being in another woman’s arms. My arms went around her too as if of their own volition, and we hugged, cheek to cheek, body to body, both naked to the waist and enjoying the feeling of skin on skin, and for me the novel sensation of soft female skin under my hand, so different from a man’s.

It was inevitable that we would kiss again, and we did, gently at first, then with increasing passion until we were forcing our mouths together, tongues probing, fencing, licking and tasting, moaning and murmuring, and ultimately gasping for breath. Her fingers around my back were biting fiercely into my flesh, hurting me, but pleasurably so because the discomfort told me how strongly Celia wanted me, as I did her. Soon her grip loosened a little, although we continued to kiss just as eagerly, and one hand began a cautious journey down my back. I knew where it was headed and my heart pounded faster in response.

She did not go straight for her target, instead she ran her hand down onto my bottom, stroking and fondling my buttocks through the cotton of my panties, making me groan with pleasure and anticipation. It seemed forever that she gently circled, and caressed me, although it cannot have been ore than a couple of minutes before she pulled her hand back onto my spine, leaving me in a frustrated panic for a split second before I realised what she intended.

Her fingertips found their way under the waistband of my panties, wriggling their way around to the front and then down until they were brushing through my pubic hair, seeking my slit. I wanted to be touched, played with, anything so I spread my legs wider to encourage her, trying not to lower myself out of her reach by doing so.

‘I can see what you want.’ She chuckled sexily into my ear. ‘But shall we get rid of these first?’ She twanged at the elastic of my panties.

I had my thumbs under my waistband and was pushing them down before she had chance to say anything else. She chuckled again as she watched me sit back and pull them over my feet and then kneel again in front of her, this time completely naked. She must have thought me eager, but I didn’t care.


I wasn’t sure if her exclamation was at my action or at the result, but it made me feel good anyway.

‘I’d better do the same, hadn’t I?’ She looked down at the pyjama bottoms she still wore, and then grinned at my excited nodding.

She slid from the bed, sitting on the edge as she pulled them off, kicking them away almost theatrically before standing in the light from the bedside lamp with her arms open, deliberately showing herself to me.

‘There you are, now we’re equal.’ She declared with a smile.

‘Celia, you are beautiful.’ I told her, staring openly at her body and meaning every word. Her smile broadened.

‘Now, where were we?’ She asked as she climbed back onto the bed.

We seemed to instinctively know what to do, Celia sat back on her haunches and I knelt straddling her thighs and facing her, very conscious that my legs were wide and my pussy was delightfully available.

She reached up and wrapped one arm around my neck, pulling my head down into a kiss while at the same time she reached between my legs with her free hand. I felt her fingers glide easily over my pubes, unconstrained by clothing, and cup my pussy. In the middle of a kiss I gasped into her mouth at the sudden pleasure of her contact and felt her lips curl in a smile at my reaction. Tonight was the first time any woman had ever touched me so intimately, and to feel her hand on my naked pussy took my breath away. Nobody could have prepared me for how good it felt.

At first she didn’t move, and I knelt quietly with her hand over my slit and her lips on mine, with my arms around her back, clinging to her and pulling her tight. Then, as her tongue pushed its way into my mouth again, I felt her hand press against me, pushing up, more and more firmly so that she was spreading my labia until they parted and without moving her fingers found my wetness, two fingertips right at my entrance and the heel of her hand pressed firmly against my clit. I froze; knowing what was coming and waiting for it.

I have been fingered many times before, of course I have, but always by a man and recently only by my husband, and this was different. It wasn’t just simply a finger inserted into me and thrust in and out. For one thing Celia immediately used two fingers, sliding them in slowly, going deep but then bending them into a kind of hook that rubbed against the roof of my passage as she moved them inside of me. I pulled my mouth away and threw my head back, clinging to her and moaning, my hips pushing forward towards her, inviting her to penetrate me more deeply. God, it was good.

It was about to get better. I’m not sure what she did but it felt as if she was twisting her fingers inside me, withdrawing them until they were nearly out and then plunging them back, all the time wriggling them around. I could feel my fingers clutching at her, my muscles taut. I still had my head thrown back, with little gasps coming from my throat and my eyes closed, and so it was without warning that I felt her mouth clamp around my nipple, sucking at it, lapping at it with her tongue, and then tugging at it with sharp little teeth. I felt that glorious fire ignite again inside my pussy, pressure and heat building as quickly as it had done before.

‘I’m coming.’ I gasped ecstatically. ‘I’m coming again.’

‘Then do it, let it happen.’ She replied, releasing my breast just long enough to speak.

It was good to have her go-ahead, to know that she was intentionally bringing me to climax, but it wouldn’t have made any difference. There was no way on earth that I was going to be able to hold back. The sensation built and built until suddenly, like a dam bursting, it was released to race though my body unconstrained, wave after wave again, through my torso, down each limb, right along to my fingers and toes, each making my body tense in delight, only to relax again until the next wave struck. All the time she plunged her two fingers into me, rubbing my clit with her palm and doing everything to give me pleasure.

Eventually it ran its course, each succeeding wave diminishing until in the end I was just shuddering with aftershocks. Panting, gasping and trembling, I more or less collapsed over Celia, slumping onto her, my head on her shoulder, my arms draped around her shoulders and kind of sitting, open-legged, on her thighs.

‘Oh God, Celia.’ I panted. ‘That was amazing.’

‘Good.’ She told me simply, stroking my hair with one hand.

Soon I opened my eyes and pulled back, still breathing heavily but wanting to look at her, to thank her properly for what she had just done. I was just in time to see her putting her other hand to her mouth. It was the hand that had just been between my legs. She was licking my wetness from her fingers, savouring me, and, judging by the wistful look on her face, enjoying the taste. She blushed and smiled bashfully as I watched, but that didn’t stop her from sucking her fingers until all trace of me had gone.

I couldn’t help but think how wonderful it was to see her enjoying my juices, and wondering if I would enjoy hers as much, and then all of a sudden I realised that I had been made to orgasm twice without Celia having taken any pleasure at all for herself. The urge, the need, suddenly came over me to return the favour, and more if I could. I had never pleasured a woman and I wasn’t sure how good I would be at it but, I told myself, I was pretty sure I going to find out.

I pulled back a little more, planting my knees together and motioning to her to part her own, so that we reversed our positions and she was now kneeling over my legs with hers wide apart. She looked down at me with her arms draped over my shoulders, planted a kiss on my forehead and then closed her eyes in an obvious hint for me to begin.

I stifled a giggle at her lack of subtlety, but I was determined to take it slowly, to learn as I went, to try what I thought she would enjoy and see what her reaction was like. For a moment or two I knelt there, just looking at her, staring at a naked woman in a way I’d never done before, taking in the sight of her very beautiful body and wondering how to begin.

Eventually, with my heart beating like a drum and my breathing now coming in tight little gasps, I reached out one hand and began to lightly circle her abdomen, feeling her skin flutter under my gentle touch. Slowly I let my circles widen until I was stroking the underside of her breasts and the very top of her pubic mound, letting myself become accustomed to such erotic contact with another woman. All the time Celia just knelt over me, her hands on my shoulders, her head tipped slightly back, just as mine had been, and her only reactions were the little pleasure noises from deep in her throat.

Feeling more confident now I let my hand stray downwards, at first just cupping her mound with my fingertips touching the top of her pussy, but then as Celia pushed forward in encouragement, I reached further between her legs, my palm over her pussy and my fingers probing for her vagina and feeling the wetness around her entrance. I paused there, looking up into her face, ostensibly seeking her final permission, but really I was just getting myself together ready to do something I’d never expected to do.

‘Yes.’ She told me. ‘Please, yes.’

There was no going back, in fact there was no wanting to go back and my fingers slid forward, two sinking easily into her slippery hole and the others curling up along her slit, bending me slightly towards her.

It felt so strange – nice, but strange. I’d only ever fingered myself up until then, and there was no way I could go that far into my own passage because I couldn’t reach myself at that angle, and besides, doing it to someone else meant that I felt the entire sensation through my fingers without the awareness of my vagina getting in the way. It made for a strangely wonderful feeling because her passage, warm and wet, kind of pulsed and wrapped around my exploring fingers. I pushed into her as deep as I could, wriggling around, trying to take in the novel feeling of her vagina rhythmically opening and closing on me. My eyes were still staring up into hers, but now with a look of slack jawed wonder on my face.

‘My god, you’re good.’ She told me in a hoarse whisper as I began to thrust in and out of her. I don’t know how true what she said was, but it made me smile with pride. My first time touching a woman and I’m told I’m good. Now I had the confidence to do anything.

For a little while I carried on thrusting into her, but soon it became awkward with me bending forward to reach far enough and look up at the same time, and I wanted to carry on looking at her face because of the expressions of pleasure and delight that kept flitting across it. I gently pulled away, letting my wet fingertips slide up her slit as I straightened a little until I reached her clit.

Her clit was bigger than mine, a little nub like a miniature penis, engorged and hard, that stuck out from under its hood inviting my attention. My two fingers stroked very, very softly across its tip, just barely touching but making her jerk with the intensity of the sensations it generated. I looked at her, grinning to see her eyes close and her mouth open into a wide smile of enjoyment. I stroked her again, making her jerk this time too, and give a little groan of pleasure. Her eyes stayed closed, but her hips began to shudder every time my fingers passed over her clit. I pressed a little more firmly, rubbing her properly, and now her hands gripped my shoulders and she gasped, fingertips digging into my skin each time she jolted with arousal.

I glanced down, looking at her breasts as I played with her, tempted to suck on her gorgeously enlarged nipples. There were so many things I suddenly wanted to do to her, but most importantly I wanted to make her come and so I contained my impatience and continued to rub her clit.

I’m glad that I did, because it didn’t take long. Soon her hips were swaying back and forth in front of me, encouraging me to rub her harder and faster in time with their movements, her head went back, her mouth stayed open and the ever louder pleasure noises she made told me that she was close to her climax. I watched her face with growing pleasure and excitement of my own, amazed and thrilled at my success, waiting for the moment when she would actually reach her orgasm.

‘Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Yyyeeeessssssss.’

The words were an ever more rapid chant, until the final one came as a long drawn out wail at the same time as she pushed her pussy hard against my hand, the sudden explosive power of her orgasm making her hips thrust at me uncontrollably. Then her fingers dug into my flesh and her head suddenly swung forward for her to bury her face in my neck, kissing and biting my skin as ecstasy flooded her body.

Soon it was over and she slumped back, red faced and sweating, her legs trembling and her chest heaving, still kneeling over my thighs but resting her weight back on her haunches and now holding onto my shoulders for genuine support as I had done with her.

‘You really are good.’ She gasped, confirming her earlier remark. ‘God, I hope there’s more to come.’

It was an unexpected wish, but it made me smile and it made me determined to make it true. There would be more to come, I knew exactly what I wanted to do next, even though I could hardly believe my own longing.

‘There is.’ I told her. ‘Lie down.’

I stood away from the bed while she arranged herself towards the top of the bed, flat on her back with her knees raised and legs wide apart. I don’t know if she had guessed what I was going to do, but that was exactly how I wanted her.

Moving around to the foot of the bed I clambered back on to kneel between her feet, looking straight at her shining wet pussy with my heart hammering at the thought of what I intended. I’d never dreamed of going down on another woman, but here I was, just about to do it and looking forward to it. My hands were on her knees to hold her legs open while I gazed hungrily at her pussy, contemplating what I wanted to do to it as well as simply enjoying the sight of the shiny wet slit that waited for me. A quick glance up found her gazing back with an expression of lustful anticipation on her face. She wanted it as much as I did. No time to reflect, this was my first time and I didn’t want to chicken out.

My feet and ankles overhung the end of the bed when I stretched out between her legs but I didn’t care, I was too enthralled by the musky scent of her sex. I’d not noticed it before, but as my face came near to her it was the gorgeous smell of her arousal that got me going most. I wriggled a little nearer, staring longingly at the smooth folds of her labia and her shiny pink entrance, hesitating but impatient all at the same time. I moved closer still, slotting my arms under her raised thighs so that I could grip her hips, and then put out the tip of my tongue until I just made contact. She moaned softly and placed her hands on top of mine, pressing them against her. Now I wanted to taste her properly.

My tongue ran along the inside of her labia, up one side of her slit and down the other, making her flinch and gasp as its tip skated across her clit. I did it again, pressing my tongue onto her a little more firmly, tasting her juices on the flat of my tongue before I found her entrance and pushed the tip inside. It was a new and wonderful experience because she tasted as good as she smelled. Now all hesitation was gone. I licked her and kissed her, nuzzling my face into her wet pussy and pushing my tongue deep inside her, holding onto her hips and pulling her close to get as far in as I could.

Very soon her hips began to rise and fall gently and her hands began to clasp mine just a little harder, and her moans became louder to let me know that I was doing it right. I thrust my tongue right into her, licking around the walls inside her entrance until my tongue began to ache, and then pulled it out to run it the length of her pussy until I reached her clit.

At first I just ran to the tip of my tongue around the tip of her button, but I soon got carried away and licked her hard, making her jerk and gasp from the sensations. I smiled to myself, and then, taking advantage of its size, I covered my teeth with my lips and took the little button between them, gently biting and nibbling her until her behaviour and sounds told me she was soon going to come.

This time she didn’t tell me she was coming, she didn’t need to because her reactions made it only too clear. Her movements became more intense and more erratic as she got closer to orgasm, her hips bucking and her fingertips gripping onto my hands almost painfully. The moans had now given way to gasps and groans, guttural sounds from the back of her throat that got louder and more insistent as her climax got closer. Then, just as her climax became inevitable, she let go of my hands and twisted her fingers into my hair, pulling me down onto into her, pushing herself up into my face at the same time. I couldn’t move even if I’d wanted to now, and anyway the discomfort of her pulling at my hair only made my delight in her climax even stronger, because it told me how much pleasure she was getting from it.

When she did come it was so powerful it was like an earthquake had struck. She called out loudly, her pelvis jerked and shuddered, her fingers tore at my hair and her legs came up to wrap around my head and shoulders, pinning me to her pussy. I never knew anyone could come that strongly. I tried to keep hold of her clit, but it was impossible and in her frustration she just rubbed herself hard against my mouth, covering my face with her juices and making me gasp for breath. Even when it began to fade she held me against her to make sure she got the last possible moment of pleasure, and in doing so, made sure that I did too.

Slowly her hold on my head slackened, her hands lost their grip and her legs dropped away as she lay shuddering and panting, and I was finally able to take a proper breath for the first time since she had grabbed my hair. Not that I had minded, but now I could look up at her face and smile at the look of worn out delight it carried. She saw me looking up and gave me a washed-out smile.

‘Sorry. That must have been rough on you.’ She gasped out, before suddenly giggling. ‘Your whole face is wet. I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’ I told her, gazing up and still smiling. ‘I’m not.’

‘You are something else, you are.’ She looked down affectionately. ‘Thank you.’

I shook my head and opened my mouth to counter that, but she raised a silencing finger. ‘No, don’t. I mean it.’

For a few seconds we just gazed at each other, she looking down over her heaving chest and me from my position still lying between her legs.

‘Will you kiss me?’ She asked.

‘My face is wet.’ I reminded her, hoping she wouldn’t mind.

‘I know.’ She held out her arms to me.

I scrambled up, threading myself between her legs until she pulled me close to lie on top of her, feeling her breasts rising and falling against mine as she regained her breath. I wondered if she really wanted me to kiss her, covered in her own juices and still short of breath, but she opened her mouth in a clear invitation that I couldn’t refuse.

Our first kiss was short, just a soft meeting of mouths that I pulled away from when I thought she needed to breathe. We looked at each other and then did it again, this time lasting a little longer before I ended it.

‘Kiss me properly.’ She demanded, frustrated.

I hesitated, still not sure, but she pulled my head down, raising her own to meet me. This time she wrapped her arms around me and refused to let me move, her mouth pressed hard against mine and her tongue probing between my lips, and this time it was she who broke away, gasping for breath again but grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

‘That’s better. You taste good.’ She told me breathlessly, and then broke into giggles. ‘Or maybe I taste good, I’m not sure which.’

I was sure. She did taste good. I had been introduced to lesbian love, and I was amazed how much I liked the experience. Maybe it had been there all the while, and I had been a closet bisexual. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. What I did know was that I was as horny as hell still.

I was lying on top of her, taking most of my weight on my elbows like a man would, simply to let her get her breath back. But I was so aware of my skin on hers, my body resting on her body and feeling wonderful, and I couldn’t resist squirming around to get the most intimate feel I could get, rubbing myself on her, feeling her nipples hard under the soft fleshy tissue of my breasts, my own nipples, engorged and sensitive, pressing gently into hers. I could even feel her mound on the top of my thigh and I couldn’t help but press my leg onto her. She gasped and moaned and pushed back, her hands clasped around me and moving continuously, massaging my back, stroking my neck and digging into me when she gasped with a particular pleasure. It was as if we were wrestling in a strange and beautiful way, looking longingly into each others lust filled eyes and almost trying to merge our bodies as we writhed as one. We kissed again and again, longer and more passionately as her breathing returned to normal, our mouths welded together, tongues pushing and probing, tasting and licking.

Suddenly I was aware that my leg had somehow pushed itself completely between hers with no conscious effort by me, and that hers too was now between mine, her knee raised and her thigh pressed onto my pussy. It already felt nice, but then she began to thrust up, deliberately rubbing her pussy on my leg, and it felt wonderful. I responded, moving my hips too, so that our legs and pussies rubbed together in concert.

It was exquisite, both of us still embracing and kissing each other while at the same time giving and receiving the much more erotic pleasure. I knew what she must be feeling because I could feel it too, the wetness of her pussy, the soft enlargement of her spread open labia, the hard little nub of her clit, all pressed against my leg just as mine pressed against hers and all spreading her juices along the length of my thigh. We writhed and squirmed together, moaning softly, each of us gripping harder onto each other’s shoulders. Then, deep in my pelvis, I felt that wonderful sensation, the first sign of another orgasm.

‘I think I can come again.’ I tore my mouth free and gasped into her ear.

She nodded, a look of concentration on her face. ‘Me too.’

We stopped kissing and just lay in a tight embrace, holding on closely, cheek to cheek, breathing heavily into each other’s ears, my bottom rising and falling in counterpoint to her thrusting thigh as we rubbed ourselves to climax on each other’s leg.

Soon I began to make little gasps of pleasure as my orgasm came closer, and my thrusts became harder and more forceful, my fingertips digging into her shoulders as I tried to keep her firm. I hoped that we might come together.

‘Are you close?’ I gasped.

‘Nearly.’ She replied excitedly. ‘But don’t hold back.’

I couldn’t hold back, I really couldn’t, even if I was to be disappointed that we couldn’t come together. I could feel myself right on the brink, at the point where my fingers and toes began to curl and that gorgeous heat started to spread out from my pussy. I pushed against her leg, pressing myself harder and harder onto her, feeling my clit chafing on her thigh. It was going to happen, there was nothing I could do and I didn’t want to anyway.

It happened for me a few seconds before it happened for her, rippling through me like a kind of tidal wave, spreading out from the centre until every little bit of me was overloaded with sensations. I ground my pussy hard into her leg, my teeth clenched and my eyes squeezed shut. Then while I was still at my peak, Celia came too, making an animalistic sound in her throat she suddenly grabbed me hard, crushed her pussy on my thigh and squirmed her body against mine, grasping me with fingers turned to talons and pulling me into her. For what seemed like forever we pushed and wriggled against each other, gasping and grunting into each other’s ears, our mouths kissing and nibbling at each other’s necks, totally gripped by our orgasms.

I’m not sure whose climax subsided first. It was as if it ended for both of us and then another wave of sensations would flood through one or the other of us and we would cling on for dear life once again, and even when these aftershocks seemed to have ended we weren’t really sure it was over and we lay in each others arms panting and gasping, just waiting to see if there were any more. Finally things did subside and we kissed tenderly, passion spent and with pure affection now uppermost we expressed our feelings with a soft and gentle meeting our lips, hands now softly stroking instead of digging in, tongues just quietly exploring instead of invading. For me, although I was new to lesbian love, it seemed somehow so right that I didn’t even think about who I was kissing so lovingly until afterwards, and even then it didn’t worry me in the slightest.

I don’t know if the bisexual leaning had always been there and it had taken Celia to bring it out, and I’m inclined to think it was or why would I have let myself be persuaded so easily. But maybe I did it as revenge because I believed, and later found to be true, that my husband was cheating on me, and not with just one woman. He and I soon went our separate ways and I now see Celia regularly. We have spoken of living together, but I’m not quite ready for that, although who knows what the future may bring. One thing I do know. That journey home changed my life for the better.

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