Loading...I suppose you need a bit of background on me first, to set the scene as it were. My name is Sarah Matthews having married (can you believe it) Matthew Matthews some 10 years ago. To this day I can’t believe anyone could give their son a name like that, but his parents – who are perfectly nice and sensible – didn’t seem to think it was odd.
Maybe it’s me that’s odd. My maiden name is Clarke, so when I’m relating experiences that happened before I met Matt you might find me or others referring to me as Sarah Clarke.
I was born and brought up in Northumberland – a windswept county in the North East of England at a time when lots of new housing estates were being built in villages and everyone with middle class pretensions would buy a newly built home on an development and move out of Newcastle or its suburbs in order to prove they were on their way up in life. It made for a lot of interesting times – people thrown together from different backgrounds and that. Anyway, I’m rambling and Matt is always telling me off for that so I better get on with it.
Today – in August 2008 – I’m 48, happily married, and have 2 smashing grown up sons from a previous long term relationship before I met Matt and two inherited stepdaughters in their late teens that came with hubby. I have a little part time job helping out in a friend’s shop selling clothes to students and the like, and I’m generally considered the doting wife and mother.
I suppose I’d be described as matronly now – but back when I was a teenager I was slim and had a lot of attention from the boys. I didn’t like the peasant look that was fashionable at the time; instead I preferred shorter skirts and tighter tops which might have explained some of the interest. A throwback to the 1960’s my mum would say. I’m 5’5″ tall and then I weighed a trim 110lbs or so and had quite perky 32b boobs. I wore my ash blonde hair quite long and like a lot of us then my look was a bit of a “Farrah Fawcett Do” with gallons of hairspray and the trademark flick backs.
Nowadays, and after 2 kids, I’m bigger all over and I’m ashamed to say I’m now 155lbs and wear a 38c bra. Unfortunately I haven’t become 5’11” since 1978 so I’m overweight for my height. The events I’m going to tell you about here have shaped the rest of my life. Yes – I have secrets – many of them – but it’s time some were shared.
My husband has no knowledge of these secrets and I’m counting on him being truthful when he tells me he doesn’t have time to read things on the internet. If he is telling then truth then he should remain blissfully ignorant. I toyed with the idea of using a pseudonym and changing the locations to make it impossible for anyone to guess who I am, but I didn’t like writing like that so I’m taking a risk and being open. Time will tell if I get caught out or not.
I’m starting my series of “confessions” with my first real sexual awakening – so I’m going back 30 years to my dim and distant past – when I was 18 and doing A levels in my last year in the sixth form at the local Grammar School . This all happened before I met David (my long term partner and father to my boys) in my last year at University. I’m not intending to make my stories here a strict chronological diary – I’m happy to jump forward and back in time as the mood demands – but to start off it seems right to begin at the beginning.
This is basically a true story but I’ve changed the names of the other participants (not mine) as I know for a fact that at least two of the people involved are still alive and well (or at least they were in July 2008) and I don’t want to cause any fuss for anyone. This story deals with what happened one Friday evening in December 1978.
My best friend at that time was called Karen Dodson. We’d been friends since we were 8 and went to the same schools until we opted for different universities in 1979. Karen’s mum and dad lived in one of the new developments in a small village next to the River Tyne and I’d always got on well with them. Her mum is Frances and her dad is Alec. Alec was always friendly – but never overly friendly if that’s what you’re wondering – and a nice man. He worked hard all week and then went off to the golf course at weekends. Frances could be quite overbearing at times so we always used to understand why he escaped to the golf course at every opportunity.
Frances was a typical “wannabe” middle class wife (not sure the word “wannabe” was used back then but it’s quite an appropriate way to describe her) and she was from a working class area just outside of Newcastle. She’d worked hard (or at least had made Alec work hard) to obtain the middle class veneer of material trappings and was totally immersed in the “what would the neighbours say” mentality. She was always very concerned with how she looked – watching what she ate, going to keep fit class twice a week and with hair that was so black it could only have come from a bottle. I last saw her at the beginning of 2008 and she still had jet black hair even at the age of 75 so there’s no doubt it was chemically assisted even then. Frances was always immaculately made up and you never saw her with a hair out of place. She was slightly taller than me – probably 5’6″ or so and keeping the weight off nicely. I’d say that then she was probably about 120lbs with boobs smaller than mine – an A cup.
I knew she wore padded bras as we’d had a discussion about them previously when I was complaining I wanted bigger boobs and she told me her secret. I never saw her in jeans – always skirts and a nice blouse even at home. I liked her though – she was a pain sometimes about tidiness and that, but she was kind too and always chatted to me like I was an equal when I was there. I think it’s fair to say we were all a little scared of her even if we did make jokes behind her back about her obsession with appearances.
Two houses along from Frances and Alec there was an older married couple, Bill and June Sanders. I say older – Frances would have been 45 then and June and Bill were early 50’s so not much between them, but a hell of an age difference between them and me. Bill and June had not been able to have kids and so they treated Karen and her younger sister Julie as their own, and spoiled them rotten with gifts on birthdays etc. June was an elegant slim blonde who had the money to spend on the best clothes and makeup – she was always smart and looked very sophisticated. I think Frances was a little in awe of her and we laughed over how little time it used to take for Frances to buy something for her house if June had just acquired the same thing for hers. June was taller than Frances – probably 5’8″ and with bigger boobs. She must have been a 34c.
Frances had a wide circle of friends – one of whom I knew quite well having gone out with her son Gerry for a while a few months previously. It was a typical early romance – I wanted someone to cherish me and eventually propose to me and he wanted sex. We broke up when I stuck to my guns about my definition of romance compared to his. Gerry’s mum – well step-mum actually – was Vicky Price and was younger than Frances by about 10 years, so then she would have been 35. She was married to Bob Price who was quite good looking I always thought, probably better looking than Gerry in fact.
Vicky was a very attractive brunette with full lips and sexy green eyes, all framed by soft shoulder length curls. She was slightly overweight with big breasts and was definitely what you would call voluptuous. Carrying a few extra pounds suited her and she dressed to show off her assets. She was usually to be seen in tight tops and little skirts and lots of glossy lipstick. She was about my height at 5’4″ and must have weighed 140lbs most of which seemed to have congregated in her boobs and bum. She was 38d and definitely didn’t need a padded bra! From the way the lads our age talked about her when Gerry wasn’t around it was clear she had many admirers. If we’d had the expression back then she would have definitely been a “MILF”.
On the night this all happened I needed to get some books back that Karen had borrowed for an A level project – only problem was that Karen had gone out to a house party with her new boyfriend several miles away and wasn’t expected back until Saturday morning as they were staying over. I decided to phone her home anyway hoping that if someone was in I could drop by and pick them up. I’d only passed my driving test a month before (at the third attempt) so I was taking every opportunity to borrow dad’s car, and even though it was only a 10 minute drive I wanted the practice. Frances answered the phone and we chatted for a while as I explained what the problem was.
She said that of course I could come over and added that she was annoyed Karen hadn’t given them back to me yet. She was the sort of woman who always let you know when she was annoyed about something (and lots of things seemed to annoy her) which may help explain why we’d always been a little scared of her.
She went on to explain that Alec was at a golf dinner and wouldn’t be back until after 11pm and that Julie had gone to visit her Grandma for the weekend. She then said she was having some friends over for drinks and mentioned June and Vicky. I asked how Vicky was – I hadn’t seen her since Gerry and I had split up and I had always enjoyed chatting to her when I visited Gerry. I’d even popped by a few times when he was at the football with his Dad for a cup of coffee and a chat.
Frances asked me why I wasn’t going to the party with Karen and I explained how I intended to go but the boy I was supposed to go with had dumped me the day before and I didn’t want to run into him there. She was very sympathetic (even though I really wasn’t that bothered – he was a real idiot as I recall and I’d only been out with him a few times). She then told me her and the “girls” (“girls”? more like “old ladies” I thought to myself) were going to have a few drinks and a laugh as they had the house to themselves for once. She then said I was more than welcome to join them if I felt like it.
I hesitated, because I immediately thought that a night sitting around drinking crappy wine while Frances and June complained about the price of bread , how kids today had no manners and how much Christmas was going to cost sounded like my worst nightmare. Then I remembered Vicky was going, that she was always good fun, and that the only alternative was to spend a Friday night alone in my room having just been dumped. So the polite refusal I was formulating was quickly replaced by a “Yes – thanks, that’s really kind. I’ll be there about 7pm then”
I had a quick think and decided that for a few drinks with the perfectly dressed Frances and her friends I should make an effort with my clothes. I ditched the original jeans and sweatshirt I’d thrown on when I got home and put on a denim mini skirt, zip up knee length black leather boots and black tights (yes I know – but they were all the rage then). I chose a red polyester blouse that I thought looked very chic and put that on over a black bra. I told my dad I wanted the car but when I told him I was going to have some wine at Karen’s he refused to let me borrow it and he ended up giving me a lift.
I managed to persuade him to give me some money for a taxi home and I worked out I’d done pretty well on the deal as he gave me way too much. I was planning on keeping the change so I could buy the new live Donna Summer LP I’d been after. For my younger readers this is how we old folk got our music back then – the LP existed way before the invention of the CD.
I waved my dad off, walked to the front door and rang the bell. Frances answered it and invited me in. She looked very different to normal, and, I had to admit to myself, quite nice. Instead of her usual skirt and blouse she was wearing a kaftan. It was black and came down to just below her knees and was really quite sheer. I remember the delicate gold motif that edged the V-neck and also noticed that it was quite low cut and quite unlike the clothes she normally wore. What wasn’t different was her hair and makeup – as always not a particle out of place. I stole a quick look down and saw she had on a pair of black mule slippers trimmed in black fur – with her toenails painted a deep burgundy to match her fingernails and I remember thinking I liked that look.
I was first one to arrive so she got me a drink and we sat chatting about this and that. I explained that I had wanted to drive over but dad said no and that I would get a taxi home later. I was babbling a bit as I was a little nervous to be honest and felt a little out of place. She said that if she’d known I wasn’t driving she would have called Vicky to pick me up on the way as she passed right by my road.
About 5 minutes later the door opened (in that part of the world neighbours just popped in without knocking if they were expected) and June came in. I didn’t quite understand why but she was wearing a kaftan too. Hers was a yellow one with bold brown splodges of pattern in a light cotton material, the same length and low cut like Frances’. She looked amazing in it and I noticed that she too was in “casual” mode with regards footwear – her mules were in a leopard print though and to me they looked quite exotic. Her nails were a bright scarlet and matched her lipstick.
We chatted a bit more about the cold weather and the like and then the door opened again and in bowled Vicky. She was in her normal going out gear: a leather mini skirt; knee length leather boots like mine and a black halter top which was so low cut you could see the tops of her bra cups. I noticed she’d gone for a red bra tonight. I’d been at her house with Gerry a few times on a Friday night when she was getting ready for a night out and this was like her uniform. I thought to myself that at least she was being her usual self and I started to feel less like I had wandered into an up-market hippy convention.
Vicky seemed pleased to see me and I actually got a hug from her. Frances explained I’d been let down and that I was joining them for a drink.
Vicky gave me a slightly concerned look and said “Are you sure Fran”
Frances just said “Yes, it’ll be fine, don’t worry we can always get her a taxi if we need to”.
I didn’t know what they were talking about so I just kept quiet. Frances got up and locked the front door and put the security chain on, which at the time struck me as unusual given how we usually just walked in but it wasn’t my house so I dismissed the thought. After she locked the door she looked over at me and said
“Sarah if you want a taxi at any time just let me know and I’ll call Derek”
Derek was a man in the village who ran a little mini cab firm so I knew I’d be OK for a taxi at short notice if I wanted to go home. I nodded OK but almost immediately got one of many surprises that evening.
Vicky got her cigarettes out and offered one to June. In those days smoking in other people’s houses was just normal and almost expected; you didn’t ask permission, you just lit up even if the house owner was a non smoker. I knew June smoked but when she said to Frances “Here you are Fran” and handed her a pack of Benson & Hedges I was actually a bit shocked. I had no idea Frances smoked and said so. She just laughed and winked at me and said “When it’s just us girls I sometimes let my hair down”.
Then Frances shocked me even more by saying as she lit her cigarette “Go on Sarah take one – I know you’d like one too”
I tried to protest that I didn’t smoke (even though I did) and she just said “Come on don’t be boring- I won’t tell your Mum”.
She came over to me and lit another cigarette in her mouth and then reached out and actually put it between my lips. She looked right in my eyes as she did it and I suddenly felt a bolt of electricity flow between us. I couldn’t understand it, but it felt to me like it was a sexual feeling.
I had no idea where it came from and I was totally confused. I had never considered another female sexually at that time, not even when we’d had our girlie sleepovers and there were lots of semi naked girls in the same room as me. I wasn’t naive about it – I just liked boys and had never paid any attention on the odd occasion that I’d seen a couple of girls kissing at a party. So that bolt of electricity really was out of the blue.
I was taken aback at what I’d just felt and I rationalised it was just the shock of her offering me a cigarette that I was feeling rather than anything else. Plus the fact that it was straight laced Frances – Karen’s mum – made it even more unlikely that it was a sexually charged sensation so I mentally shrugged my shoulders and focussed back on the chat, trying to join in when I could.
The wine I was drinking was starting to relax me and being able to smoke with adults and not worrying about getting caught by my dad was a bit of a buzz. After a while I realised that they were talking and laughing and including me in their conversation and I was starting to feel like I was slowly becoming part of their group. I liked the feeling – a “mature” sort of feeling if you know what I mean, not being treated as “daughter’s friend”, but more like an equal participant in the conversations.
After a couple of refills I was aware that the alcohol was loosening tongues and there was a lot more giggling than before. We’d stopped talking about the new boutique that had just opened up in Hexham and I realised that Frances was now talking about a woman in the local pub. She was saying that she had gone to pick Alec up from the pub a couple of nights ago after a darts match and she’d been introduced to Susan – a new member of the female darts team.
This wasn’t the bit that got my attention – it was what she said next:
“I tell you she has the biggest tits I’ve seen for a long time – even bigger than you Vick…”
Vicky laughed and said “Well we know how much you like big tits Fran”
I thought I must have been hearing things and that even if I had heard right that Karen’s mum would be aghast at that and make a fuss. Instead all that happened was that Frances laughed and June said “You can say that again!”
Frances suddenly looked over at me. Again I felt a strange sensation as her eyes met mine and this time I knew it wasn’t from being offered a cigarette. She smiled and said to me
“Sarah it’s up to you. I can call Derek and get a taxi for you now so you can go home and study or you can stay here, relax and enjoy yourself. But I should warn you that we talk about all sorts in here and we may shock you so I’ll understand if you want to go now”
I remember feeling a little like I was a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car; as I looked up they were all watching me intently. I reckoned that the sensible thing to do would be to finish my drink and then go and leave them to their evening, so I decided I’d ask her to call Derek and arrange a taxi for me. Or I thought that was what I’d decided.
The actual words that came out were “I’m fine. I’m enjoying myself and I’d love to stay and hear more. Can I have another drink and a cigarette please?”
I remember that I was blushing as I said it – both from the implication that I wanted to hear more about Susan and from my boldness in asking for a drink and a cigarette.
Frances just said “I was hoping you’d say that” and suddenly I felt the whole mood relax even more.
Vicky got up, refilled our drinks and then came and sat beside me on the smaller couch in the room so that she and I were together and June and Frances were together on the other couch. She lit a cigarette for us both and just whispered right in my ear “Just relax, we all need to let our hair down now and again”
And then – more loudly “So come on Fran – tell us all about sexy Susan”
The next few minutes were a revelation as I listened to my best friend’s mum telling her friends (and me) how she couldn’t keep her eyes off Susan’s “big tits” in the pub and how they had been talking for ages in the crowded bar while she waited for Alec to finish his match. Frances giggled when she told us how she had bumped her own “tiny tits” against Sue’s a few times when someone pushed past them or when they were trying to talk over the noise and leaned closer. One of the things she said almost made me choke on my drink when she exclaimed at one point “When she got pushed into me by that drunken idiot who lives at number 11 her fucking nipples were so hard they nearly put a hole in my tits”
I didn’t know what part of that sentence shocked me more; hearing Frances say “fucking” or hearing her describe another woman’s nipples in that way.
I was aware of Vicky saying something like “You lucky cow Fran, when are you going to get her round then” accompanied by much laughter from June, and – to my astonishment – Frances too.
Out of nowhere a voice that can’t have been mine, but sounded just like mine, so it must have been mine was saying “Wow she does sound a sexy Susan”
Vicky snuggled up closer to me and whispered again – “She does sound sexy doesn’t she with those big tits and nipples of hers” and I actually felt her (or maybe me?) shiver. I was starting to lose my ability to think straight which was probably why I nodded and agreed with her instead of wondering why she was rubbing my bare arm with her hand. Maybe I was just getting drunk I thought…
However I knew for a fact I hadn’t had too much to drink, but I was starting to feel a little light headed and it was a delicious, naughty feeling and I was suddenly very aware that I wasn’t drunk at all: I was feeling aroused. It was a totally different feeling from any I had experienced before when fumbling with boys and I noticed my breathing was shallow and quick and that my heart was racing. I was enjoying being so aware of my body that I stopped hearing what was being said for a moment or two. I suddenly became aware of more talking and decided I didn’t want to miss any of the chat so I got a grip and tried to concentrate.
I tuned in to Vicky who was the one talking at the time and I just heard the end of what she was saying “….well I’m glad to see that you both stuck to part one of the bet – now how about part two…”
I looked across at June who was saying “I never make a bet I’m not prepared to lose and pay up on…”
I gave Vicky a puzzled look and she laughed and explained that last week they had been arguing about who starred in a particular TV series – she had said Patrick McGoohan and the other two had said David McCallum so they had a bet. Part one of the wager was that whoever was wrong had to wear a kaftan instead of their normal outfits.
I was feeling a bit bolder now and said “so what was part two…”
Before Vicky could answer June spoke up and said “Part two was that we weren’t to wear underwear” and she giggled and looked straight at me. I was hit by another bolt of sexual electricity and this time it came from June not Karen’s mum. God – what was wrong with me? Before I had a chance to rationalise this latest sensation Vicky called out “There’s only one way to know for sure” and they all laughed.
She said to me “Watch this”. Then, to Frances and June, “Come on ladies, you know the drill; proof time”.
Vicky poured us both a fresh drink, lit another cigarette and, without asking, lit one for me. I took it from her, noticing my fingers shaking a little as I did so.
Almost like they were in synch Frances and June stood up and faced us. With a smirk June lifted her kaftan and slowly raised it up beyond her waist. I just gasped and Vicki clapped her hands. June was shaved smooth – and I couldn’t help but stare. I hadn’t seen an adult woman with a shaved vagina before and I was mesmerised. My reverie was broken by Vicky’s voice. “Come on Fran your turn”.
I remember thinking “No way, absolutely no way is Karen’s mum going to show us her pussy. She’ll have panties on or she’ll just refuse”. I’d just convinced myself that the game, or whatever it was, would be over and we’d be back to talking about the latest shop to open in the village when Frances did the same as June and lifted her kaftan up beyond her waist.
I was stunned and I could feel the heat on my face as I blushed deep scarlet. She was shaved bare too and as her pussy came into view the heat started to spread from my face and I could feel my nipples hardening and my pussy starting to leak juices. I was in a complete daze and thought at any minute Karen’s mum would lose her temper and tell as to go home and I’d be damned for all eternity for looking at her pussy.
Instead of the expected tirade from Frances I heard Vicky’s voice again, softer now. “Come on now ladies – that was only half a show. The bet was no underwear at all, not just losing the panties”.
When I heard that I nearly choked on the lungful of smoke I’d just inhaled (I was smoking now mainly to give my hands something to do and to stop them visibly shaking). Vicky leaned close and whispered “Watch this Sarah”.
I nodded without looking at her and concentrated on the women in front of us. As we watched, both Frances and June lifted their kaftans over their heads and threw them on the floor.
At this point I am sure that I must have gasped out loud or screamed or something because Vicky got very close to me and whispered “It’s OK it’s OK – just watch” I nodded again and realised my breathing was ragged and my pussy was demanding some attention. I tried to press down on it with the side of my hand but was too scared to openly rub it.
I didn’t know what to do next as they just stood there with smiles on their faces looking back at us. I glanced quickly at Frances’ body and noticed how her breasts looked so small but so sexy with jutting brown nipples that looked quite aroused. She was in good shape really but she still had a few visible folds of fat on her tummy and hips which I found curiously exciting. I noticed she had a purple bruise on one thigh and I thought “I must ask her how she did that”. I never did.
Then my eyes were drawn to June. She was much bigger in the hips than Frances and I just thought “Wow she looks slimmer in clothes – how clever of her”. I was just checking out her breasts, which were much bigger than Frances’s and sagged a little. Then there was movement. June had started to caress and touch her breasts. She was holding them in her hands, squeezing them and massaging them; from time to time I watched her scraping her fingernails across her nipples. Seeing her red painted nails sweeping up and over her nipples sent another jolt of electricity straight to my pussy and I was sure that I was going to have a huge wet patch when I checked my skirt.
Once again it was Vicky’s broad northern accent that brought me back to the here and now.
“That’s it June, play with those fucking tits”.
I didn’t know where to turn to or what to do. To hear my ex’s mum talk like that to another woman while my best friends mum was naked next to her nearly sent me into meltdown. Vicky moved her face so it was next to mine and whispered right into my ear, her breath teasing me and her lips brushing against my ear sending shots of lust all the way down to between my legs. And what did she whisper?
“Watch these two go at it Sarah – they really are a couple of sluts”
I know it sounds silly now, but at that instant I had no idea what she meant. For a moment I actually thought she meant they were going to fight or shout at each other or something, but before I could get my thought processes to work Frances moved behind June and ran her hands up the front of June’s body. Because her nails were polished in burgundy and June’s were scarlet I could tell whose fingers were pulling at June’s nipples and squeezing her breasts hard – and it was Frances’ hands that were doing the teasing and squeezing. My eyes were wide and my nipples were actually starting to hurt they were so hard. Frances had started to kiss and lick the sweep of June’s neck and left shoulder. June was making mewing noises as she covered Frances’ hands with her own and I was becoming seriously overheated watching this.
As exciting as it was to watch this, it was only when they moved from where the were standing and sat down onto the couch opposite that I suddenly understood what Vicky had meant by “go at it”.
They sat next to each other and after a quick look across to me and Vicky they started to kiss. But this wasn’t any of that sweet romantic lovey-dovey kissing that you see in some movies. From the moment their lips touched this was almost primeval; hard and animalistic. I had no idea back then that kissing could be that aggressive or that passionate. They had their hands in each other’s hair and they were pulling each other in tight as they seemed to be almost fighting to see who would be in the best position to stick a tongue more deeply in the other’s mouth, heads moving and pushing as they kissed.
I was spellbound – and was getting more and more worked up watching them. At one point they pulled away from each other briefly and I had one of the biggest sexual jolts of the evening so far when I saw their faces. Both women were smeared in each other’s lipstick and saliva and considering how perfect their makeup normally was, this sight was just such an erotic contrast for me and I loved it. To this day I hate it if I’m watching lesbian pornography and the women wipe the lipstick from each other’s faces after a kiss.
After what seemed like an eternity of watching them “go at it” (but was probably only a few minutes) I felt a touch on my cheek and Vicky was looking at me, her eyes bright. “That’s fucking hot isn’t it” she said.
I looked into her eyes and nodded. The finger on my cheek trailed down my face and without even thinking I opened my mouth so she could slip her finger between my lips. After a moment or two or using her finger to explore my mouth she moved her face closer to me and then used her finger to guide her tongue to my mouth.
To this day I don’t know that anything has compared to the way my stomach lurched and my pussy gushed when her lips touched mine and the finger in my mouth was replaced by her tongue. I knew I wanted more and if anything it was me that became the aggressor – meek little me, who didn’t want to have sex until she was married and thought that girls who had sex before marriage must have been sluts. We kissed and kissed and I was becoming even more aroused. Almost simultaneously we both became aware of different noises coming from the other couch and we broke the kiss and looked back to Frances and June
June was lying back and pulling her breasts up and out by her nipples and making a noise like an engine; small “swoosh swoosh” noises. The reason she was doing this was that Karen’s mum was kneeling between her legs and had two fingers in her pussy; ramming them in and out of her pussy so fast it was almost a blur. Frances was saying things I would never have imagined in a million years, things like “pull your tits up so I can see those nipples” and “you love me fucking your cunt don’t you, you dirty bitch”. The more she swore at June the more excited I got.
Vicky turned to me and we started kissing again. I think seeing Frances fucking June like that must have increased our arousal levels significantly because as well as kissing we were now urgently touching and groping. I moaned into her mouth as her hands went to my breasts and then I was aware that was now giving as good as I got. I was a full part of this little scene and I had a sudden realisation that I was allowed to let loose. My hands went to Vicky’s breasts and I started to squeeze them through her top and bra. There seemed to be a direct line from my hands to my pussy and as I felt her nipple harden under my hand I swear I had a mini orgasm and squeezed her breast hard. Vicky broke the kiss and grunted something that sounded like “so Sarah wants my big tits does she” and she lifted a breast straight out of her bra and top – just scooped it out. The next thing I knew she had her other hand on my head and was pushing my head down as she lifted her tit up and as I opened my mouth it was suddenly filled with a big fat nipple.
God the feeling of it in my mouth was fantastic and I sucked and nipped and nibbled it. Every time Vicky moaned in pleasure I renewed my sucking with even more vigour until eventually she pulled me away and said “not so hard, love – just suck me don’t chew it off – leave that for June”. I apologised and moved to her other breast, being more careful now with my teeth. I was so turned on that without prompting I slid one of my hands up Vicky’s thigh and up her skirt.
Her voice was sounding much more breathless now and she said: “Yes that’s it fuck me with your fingers now”. Hearing her say that helped me overcome any last vestiges of residual shyness and I immediately felt how wet she was – even through her knickers and tights. I think we both realised at the same time that tights are a bit of an obstacle to passion, so we stood up so we could undress.
We tried to undress each other but kept getting in each other’s way with the haste of passion, so after a couple of bumped heads Vicky laughed and said “You get your kit off and I’ll do mine then it’ll be quicker”.
As I was trying to persuade my shaky fingers to work on buttons that seemed welded together I looked over again at Frances and June. Frances was now holding June’s pussy wide open with her thumbs and was licking her in long sweeping motion from the bottom of her pussy to where her clitoris was. June had one of her nipples in her fingertips and looked to me like she was trying to squash it flat she was using so much pressure on it. I decided that I would like to do that to her at some point but once again I was distracted by Vicky who was now naked in front of me.
I was naked now too and we moved together – still standing. As we’re the same height we just leaned in and kissed again and I was thrilled how her big heavy tits pushed into my smaller ones as her hands roamed over my buttocks.
I was definitely getting in the swing now and I broke the kiss and said these exact words to her
“I thought you wanted me to fuck your cunt with my fingers”.
She just stood back a bit, looked me right in the eye and opened her legs slightly. I was about to get my first experience of putting my fingers inside another woman. I bent down slightly so I could get more leverage with my hand. As I did Vicky turned my head a little so she could stuff her tit into my mouth again as I fingered her. I had a passing thought that she was shaved too and that I was the only one with hair down there- but I dismissed that thought and concentrated on wanting to please her.
Her labia were large – and in her excitement they were so engorged they seemed to suck my fingers in and fold over me.
Almost instinctively I had two fingers in her and curled them up a little as my thumb found her clitoris. I started to make a beckoning motion with them as I used my arm to create the in and out motion. I was sure I could feel her pussy pulsating to match my rhythm. Suddenly she was groaning and shaking and I had a hard job keeping my balance as her orgasm built. She suddenly pulled me up by my hair and kissed me as hard as I’d seen June and Frances kissing earlier as she gave two or three huge shudders and climaxed on my hand. “Wow” I thought. “I did that to her”
After a few moments her shaking subsided and she kissed me gently and said “I don’t believe for one minute that this is your first time with another woman Sarah Clarke. I wish you’d have told me when you were seeing our Gerry – we’d have had a lot more fun when he was at football”. I told her that it really was my first time but before I could say anymore she stopped me and said “In that case I’ve been selfish, come on – your turn”.
She took me by the hand and led me to the couch where June and Frances were sitting next to each other. In all the excitement I hadn’t noticed that Frances must have made June cum at the same time as Vicky, as they were now just kissing gently and stroking each others hair as lovers do after sex. I saw that Frances was lazily rubbing her self with no real urgency so I guessed she must have found a way to get herself off when she was licking June and that they had probably cum together.
Seeing them like that made me acutely aware that apart from an involuntary mini orgasm earlier when I’d been playing with Vicky’s breasts I hadn’t had a proper orgasm and I now wanted it to be my turn.
Vicky seemed to read my mind and told them to move. They each shuffled to the side a bit so there was a gap between them and I sat down with Frances on my right and June on my left. Vicky pulled me forward so my bum was on the end of the couch and then I felt hands tugging my legs apart – Frances and June were going to help her. I could feel the juices running down from my pussy I was so excited, and I remember I tried to say to Frances “Sorry I think I’m leaking on your furniture” but she stopped me from finishing the sentence by leaning over and kissing me.
“Fuck fuck fuck” was all I could think – my best friends Mum was kissing me. And I was kissing her back and it felt fantastic. I suddenly felt warm breath on my thighs and hair tickling me as Vicky moved into position. Every sense I possessed was heightened – touch, taste, smell – everything.
I realised I could taste the difference between Frances’ mouth and Vicky’s and suddenly knew the different taste was probably June’s cunt juice on Frances’ lips. The idea was so sexy it made me groan. I groaned again when I felt Vicky’s fingers tugging at my matted pubic hair as she slowly parted my pussy lips and licked me. I was so aroused I started humping my pussy at her almost immediately and kissed Frances harder. I was aware of June stroking the underside of my left breast and then I felt the warmth of her mouth as she moved her head so she could suckle my nipple.
At the same moment she started sucking my nipple I felt Vicky’s tongue go inside me gently. I would have cried out in pleasure if Frances didn’t have her tongue down my throat, but I wanted more from Vicky, she was being very gentle – timid almost- and I felt rampant. I felt a finger go a little way inside me and I responded by putting my hand behind Frances’ head just like I’d seen June do earlier so I could mash our mouths even closer together. I had my other hand on the top of June’s head so that she was glued to my tit – she seemed to be Ok with this as she was giving my nipple a complete going over and I loved it.
I heard Vicky saying something “…either she’s done a lot of horse riding or she’s not the good girl she says she is…” and I realised why she had been going gently earlier while exploring with her fingers.
I felt her mouth move to my clitoris and simultaneously she pushed her finger deep inside me and started a rhythmic sawing motion. I was getting so close now and I just wanted to cum. Every nerve ending in my body was sending messages to my brain and I was thrashing around in excitement.
Vicky pushed another finger in me – and that change of sensation was enough to tip me over the edge and my world became a blur of coloured lights popping off in my head and sounds colliding with each other as I had the first real mind blowing orgasm of my life.
Time seemed to stand still as the lights kept firing off in my head and then it was over and I slumped back on the couch feeling like I was on another world.
I can’t remember how long I was out of it to be honest, but I got my senses back after a while to see Vicky still on the floor between my legs smiling up at me. “Was that good Sarah” she asked. I couldn’t make my mouth and tongue work enough to form words so I gave her my answer by leaning down to kiss her gently and with intensity. June and Frances were still either side of me and as I sat back up June turned me to her and kissed me – and I felt the heat rising once again…
I lost track of time after that as I experienced orgasm after orgasm as they all took turns to lick me and finger me and play with my boobs. I even tasted a woman for the first time – and the fact that it was Frances made the sensations even more incredible. I loved the stickiness, the musky smell, the way in which I could feel her pussy all around my tongue. But best of all I loved what my tongue did to her – making her orgasm under me and feeling the wetness of her juices on my face and mouth. I seemed to be quite good at this as both she and June had many orgasms whilst I was between their legs. I won’t list all the things that went on, but I will mention the one image that I have never forgotten from that night and never will. At one point I looked up from between June’s legs to see Frances on her back on a coffee table whilst Vicky was sitting on her face and bouncing – literally bouncing – off Frances’ face and tongue as her orgasm forced her juices to spray all over Frances face.
Eventually we seemed to run out of steam and I think I even dozed off a little after one climax. When I came to I realised that Frances and June must have got up from the couch as they weren’t to be seen. Vicky got up from the floor and I hoped she was going to join me on the couch for another session – I was still keen to continue exploring despite the fact that my pussy was hurting a little and my mouth felt swollen from all the kissing.
To my disappointment however she went back to the pile of clothes on the floor and started dressing. She must have seen the look on my face because she giggled and said “It’s 10:30 love – we need to get sorted out. The men have no idea we have this sort of fun when we meet up” The shock of realising what this would look like if Alec strolled in hit me, and I was on my feet in no time trying to pull my clothes back on in case he was early. I now knew why Frances had locked the door earlier.
At last I was dressed and even though I knew I looked a mess I reckoned I could pass a casual inspection without Mr Dodson guessing I’d spent a long time that night between his wife’s legs. Vicky was dressed too but I suddenly wondered if I’d fallen asleep from too much alcohol and just had a raunchy dream – in walked Frances and June perfectly made up and dressed in their kaftans like nothing had happened. I didn’t actually pinch myself but I came close.
But Frances just said “Come on Sarah – get some lipstick on, brush your hair and then help me tidy up, he’ll be back soon” and as she said it she patted my bum. I smiled and started to tidy myself up so I could help her with putting the room back together.
We got done just in time and we were sitting chatting about Coronation Street or some other rubbish on TV when Alec came in. He said hello to everyone and did a double take when he saw me and said “What are you doing here young Sarah – I thought you’d be out getting off your face with our Karen tonight”. I blushed and was going to reply to him when Frances butted in: “She decided a night in with the girls would be more fun” which made us all laugh.
Poor Alec just looked bemused and walked into the kitchen to make coffee for us. As soon as we’d had the coffee that was our cue to get up and leave and Vicky said she would drop me home.
That made me happy on two counts: firstly, I knew that there was a deserted parking area before you got to my road and I had a fair idea we might spend a few minutes there saying “Goodbye”, and secondly I knew that I now had enough money for two LP’s from the taxi money dad gave me!
And for anyone still interested – Vicky and I did do quite a lot of saying goodbye in her car that night and I got home well after midnight…