Loading...I met Jesse at a mutual friend’s summer garden party. Moira was by some margin the poshest person I knew. As rich as god from family inheritances, she was married to a successful lawyer and was by some margin the social queen of the area where I lived.
The party was arranged to coincide with the last day of the British Open golf tournament; Moira and most of her friends were, naturally big into golf and stalwarts of the local club. It was a lovely warm, July Sunday so most there were dressed casually in shorts or thin, flowing skirts – the men looked good too.
“Chrissy, meet Jesse, Jesse Beck,” Moira said in her posh voice. “Jesse this is my good friend, Christine Hunt, or Chrissy as she prefer to be called.”
We pecked each other on the cheek and said our hellos as Moira wafted off to bond other people together.
We got on well. Jesse was easy to talk to; she smiled a lot, showed an interest in me and was open and friendly. I found her very easy to like. As it happens, I found her very easy to look at as well. Not putting too fine a point on it she was drop dead gorgeous.
She was about the same height as me, five feet five in stockinged feet, although I had not worn them for some time as I was no longer on the pull being in the ‘relationship’ with my actuary from Docklands and, therefore not a player any more, well at least not at the moment. She had lustrous, deep brown, chestnut I guess you could call it, hair that like I did, she wore down and in a fashion that some might say was a little too youthful for our advancing years. It tumbled onto her shoulders, with long, thick strands hanging down her back and some falling down her chest.
Also like me, she was dressed casually in a thin, sundress, which was perfectly suited for the occasion and the sunny weather. Hers was white with some pale blue flowery motives. It was tight above the waist, but was loose and flowed beneath her waist. It had thin spaghetti straps and was rather dangerously low cut for the obvious full breasts that it, just about, covered. Mine was more demure; being higher necked, but was tighter across my bum and round my hips.
As we chatted, sipped Pymms and ate the fashionable hog roast, we found several acquaintances other than Moira in common and learned that both of us were having golf lessons from the same dishy pro at the club we planned to join when we were good enough
“Now look darlings,” Moira boomed coming up behind us and grabbing our arms. “The two best looking and most gorgeous ladies here and you are chatting together and not mingling. It’s just good enough,” she went on almost dragging across the large lawn towards a small marquee where a jazz band was playing. Stopping outside and putting her arms round our shoulders she made me cringe with embarrassment when she announced to a group of eight or nine guys and a couple of women.
“Chrissy and Jesse are two of my dearest friends and both are single and available.”
Having made us feel rather silly, she buggered off to chat to the couple of hundred very close friends.
I did not stay much longer and escaped home to yet another evening of watching House of Cards on Netflix.
We met again, quite fortuitously at the golf club at a group lesson and then saw each other a couple of times each week at various lessons and club functions. We were becoming good friends and that was useful because making them is difficult when you are a divorced woman with a modicum of good looks and a figure to go with them.
“Why the fuck does it have to be the wives whose careers stop,” Jesse said one afternoon as we chatted over a bottle of white wine. “I’m sure I would have had a string of shops by now and we would have been living in Hampstead instead of bloody Muswell Hill if Rob had looked after the kids instead of working for Shell.”
Jesse owned a small cookery and equipment shop that she had built up when married to Rob and had kept as part of their settlement.
I had agreed, for in my time I had been quite a high flier in marketing and had been told that I would have soared up the industry ladder, but for having to take two career breaks as the children grew up and my husband’s job took over.
“This sounds awful,” Jesse said after taking a sip of wine. “Of course I love the kids to bits, but I sometimes wish I had never got married.”
I agreed. “But it seemed a good idea at the time didn’t it?
Sitting in the kitchen of the Jesse’ four bedroomed, nineteen eighties built, slum of the future house, we were silent for a while as we both contemplated the ‘what ifs’ involved if we had not married when we had.
At Moira’s suggestion, we had joined her tennis club. “We have a very active social side where you might meet someone and some of the young tennis guys are to die for. Interested in a toyboy?”
We had been to the tennis club’s, ladies, Thursday morning and I had given Jesse a lift home for her car was being serviced.
“Come in and have a drink,” she had suggested as we pulled up outside her house.
I was about to refuse for I had a stack of housework and ironing to get on with as both kids had been with their father for the weekend. However, something pushed me to accept and I did enjoy her company. Mentally saying ‘stuff the housework’, I accepted the invitation.
We were sitting opposite each other across a scrubbed pine table in her kitchen.
“As I get older and see those two scary numbers, five and nought looming I often wonder where my life has gone and where it’s going now,” Jesse said.
“I couldn’t agree more, I sometimes wish I could just run away and start again, but then of course there’s the kids so It’s impossible” I replied as she sipped her wine.
“I am beginning to think marriage is over-rated.”
“I’m convinced of that.”
“Just as men are.”
“What over-rated?”
“In many ways yes.”
“As partners perhaps?”
“Precisely, and as lovers too after a while.”
We both laughed.
“And certainly committing yourself to just one is.”
“Absolutely.”
“I often think,” I said, wondering just where the conversation was going, but enjoying the chat with her. “That it might have helped my marriage had I have been able to go with other men without guilt.”
“What and have sex with them?” She asked, looking me right in the eye as she filled our glasses.
“Not necessarily, just be with them, have them as friends. It would be good perhaps just to go on dates, talk, maybe flirt and if that leads to sex so be it.”
“We have some Danish friends and they are like that. It works for them,” Jesse said.
“Do they have an open marriage?”
“Yes sort of, for they both see other people, with the other’s approval.”
“Mmmm sounds interesting. It’s not the sex that appeals to me.”
“No, really?” Jesse said smiling.
“Well not by itself,” I smiled back.
“Didn’t you ever feel that you would like to try someone different, check out if the grass is greener?”
“Well yes of course, now and then,” I lied for it was a topic that had been continually on my mind, during the latter stages, say three years or so of my marriage.
“Whilst I loved Rob at the time, the idea that I might never kiss, be held or have sex with anyone else sort of frightened me at times.”
“Well you could have had an affair.”
“True, but that would be awful, the lying and the excuses, the feelings of guilt and remorse. I am not sure the pleasure would have been worth the pain.”
I smiled. “You seem to know a lot about it, did you?”
Averting her eyes mine, Jesse before saying quietly. “Well let’s say I dallied.”
“Well that’s a new way to me of describing it.”
We both laughed. “So did you?”
“What dallied?” I asked?
“Yes.
“Well I did have my moments, but more after the divorce when I had a rather mad period.”
“Yes I did too; at one time I thought I might fuck every man in North London.
“Well those I didn’t fuck,” I giggled.
Thursday’s became our day together. Totally coincidentally it was the day in the week when our respective exes had the children, sometimes just for the evening, but now and then overnight. We would play tennis and either, have lunch or drop by one of our homes and chat.
Slowly our discussions became more open and frank, more personal I guess and, I suppose more intimate. I felt able to tell her anything and we had far-reaching conversations.
“So do you date now?” I asked her a few Thursdays later.
We had stopped at her house after tennis and were later than usual so didn’t get there until around four
“No not really, I find it tiresome and quite a waste of time.”
“How?”
“Well it’s the sort of pretending that I am looking for a longer-term relationship with them that gets to me.”
“So fuck ’em and leave ’em,” I said in the easy conversational style we had developed.
“Well, although morally I have nothing against one-night stands, I am not sure they are really worth the effort.”
“I know what you mean.”
“But in any case Chris, you have your Docklands actuary to look after you don’t you?” She smiled using the terms I had about him.
“Well did, you mean?”
“Why have you dumped him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He gets on my fucking nerves.”
“How?”
“He thinks he’s god’s gift to sex and if he fucks me in every conceivable position then I will see him as god’s gift to me.”
“Most men seem to think that divorcees like us are simply gagging for it,” Jesse went on. I looked at her and we both giggled. “I mean with them.”
“Oh I see, yes you’re right.”
“Because of course we … er… um aren’t or are we? Oh fuck let’s have some more wine.”
“Hang on I have to drive.”
“You haven’t got the kids tonight have you?”
“No.”
“Well fuck the breathalyser and stay here.”
My initial reaction was to say no, but Jesse was persuasive and the prospect of a boozy, girly evening, something I was rarely able to do, had strong appeal.
“Don’t worry I will lend you some clean knickers,” she said laughing as I agreed, and replied.
“And I have to tell you young lady, I am not in the habit of fucking breathalysers.”
“Would you again?” I asked as I sipped my third glass of wine.
We had not had lunch at the club so I had not eaten since my corn flakes and toast at breakfast. The wine was getting to me and my head was starting to swim a little.
“What start dating? Again maybe, but you summed it up well, it’s so bloody messy and I am not sure I want a long-term man in my life.”
“Yeah I understand that, but what about er, um sex.”
“Anyway I am not necessarily after that.”
“So what are you after, a breathalyser?”
She laughed, “I don’t know really. Just to be held and kissed caressed that sort of stuff. Something different, whatever that may be.”
“What on dates?”
“Obviously that’s the Catch twenty two.”
“What is?”
“What I want and what I don’t want.”
I was beginning to lose the thread of the conversation and wondered whether it was Jesse or me that was a little drunk.
“And what are they?” I asked.
“I guess I am after intimacy, but with no strings,” Jesse said.
“So you want that, but not go on dates?”
“Exactly, it’s the playacting and pretending that pisses me off.”
“I see what you mean and I understand that.”
“Do you feel the same way?”
“I hadn’t thought it through, but now you describe your feelings, yes I associate with that. And yes I would like that.”
“It’s like no strings intimacy. I imagine sitting on a guy’s lap as we used to at parties when we were kids.”
“What snogging?
“Yes, of course that’s what we used to call it and of course being titted up in the dark.”
They both smiled at the memories.
Jesse went on almost as if talking to herself.
“Lying on a sofa or a bed kissing.”
“Yes or even just standing up cuddling and kissing.”
“But you don’t find men who just want that do you?”
“Not unless they are gay, they want to be in your knickers like a shot.”
“And then either, shag you and leave you or, have a messy affair.”
We both giggled as Jesse opened another bottle of wine.
“I’ll order some food shall I?” She asked adding. “Fancy Indian or Chinese?”
We settled on Chinese and Jesse ordered it.
“True. They always want too much don’t we?”
“Yes men are like that.”
“Not like us.”
“No women are different; with us it doesn’t have to end in full sex does it?”
“No,” Jesse said as our eyes met and something hit me. I had no idea what it was at first
Neither of us spoke for a while. I averted my gaze from Jesse, but looked up a couple of times and saw she was doing the same.
Almost in a whisper, she said as we both looked up at the same time. “Are you thinking the same as I am, Chrissy?”
My heart was pounding as I realised what had hit me a moment or two ago. Not losing eye contact for a moment, I replied.
“Yes Jesse, I think probably I am.”
We fell silent again and once more, we averted our gazes. Still looking down Jesse gulped and muttered. “Have you ever er, um…”
“Been with a woman?” I offered.
“Yes,” was the nearly silent and very husky reply.
“No, not really, have you?”
“Yes once years ago.”
“Was it good?”
“I hardly remember, it was in Ibiza and I was pretty drunk. You?”
“I only snogged and groped a couple of girls when I used to go clubbing.”
We looked up at the same time. Our eyes met and we slid our hands forward towards the other. We both looked at the extended fingers and the painted fingernails, which coincidentally were all pale pink. Neither of us moved for a few seconds and then our fingertips touched and remained like that until I lifted my hand and put it on top of hers. We held hands. None of this was planned or thought through. It was as if I was on some form of autopilot and someone else was directing my movements. Our eyes met again and we stared at each other. After what seemed an age Jesse whispered.
“Shall we then, would you like to?”
Hearing those few small words made my heart pound so loud that I was sure that Jesse would hear it.
“Yes, yes please,” I breathed, without even thinking about it.
“Oh fuck,” Jesse said as the doorbell rang. “It’s the food.”
She went and got it, brought the bags back into the kitchen and put them on the table. I got up and we stood across the table from each other staring into the other’s eyes. I was highly nervous, yet excited and Jesse seemed to be the same. I certainly did not, and it seemed as if Jesse did not either have any idea what to do.
I felt that the silence needed to be broken, but had no idea what to say. The enormity of what I was beginning to realise was happening hit me. I had no experience of such a situation and from what Jesse had said she hadn’t either. However, something, some power, some attraction was drawing us, pulling us towards each other and towards crossing a boundary that I had never thought I would traverse.
My throat was dry, my pulse was racing and my breathing was heavier as we continued staring wordlessly at each other.
For some inane reason I blurted out. “How much do I owe you?” Jesse frowned as though she did not get what I meant so I added. “The Chinese?”
“Fuck the Chinese,” she said rather hoarsely. “I’ll put it in the oven.”
We both giggled as she put her hand forward towards mine. I took it in mine.
I smiled and said. “Maybe I should sit on your lap.”
That made us both smile, which broke the ice a little and in turn helped me relax. That was until Jesse said far more calmly than I felt.
“Or of course we could lie on a bed.”
“What a good idea,” I mumbled moving round the table as she pulled my hand.
We walked up the stairs hand in hand with me behind her. On the landing, Jesse said quietly.
“We’ll use the main guest room if that’s ok.”
“Of course.”
She led me into the pretty standard, modern house rather cramped twelve feet by ten bedroom. It was decorated in light pastel colours, with matching furnishings and smelt and looked beautifully clean There was a double bed, fitted wardrobes and a dressing table and stool, that’s all.
“Let me just turn it down” Jesse said as she removed the throw and the brown and beige cushions and then rolled the bedspread down and placed that on the dressing table stool.
Standing just inside the open door, I watched her preparing the bed thinking. ‘Shit she’s getting the bed ready for us to have sex on.’ That gave me yet another jolt of sexual arousal and caused me to look more keenly at my friend. I smiled when I thought. ‘Am I checking her out and sizing her up?’
I was, I realised, looking at her in a way that I hadn’t before, even though I had seen her in short tennis skirts, skimpy outfits and nearly naked when she came out of the shower. Nothing then had registered with me. Now, I noticed the feminine roundness of her buttocks inside the thin tracksuit trousers, the swell of her breasts that I knew to be quite full and round having seen her in a dress without a bra. I recalled the length, and shapeliness of the tanned legs that I had seen so often at the tennis club. It struck me that I was looking at my friend in a sexual way, presumably, as men looked at both of them.
“There that’s done,” she said turning and straightening up as she looked at me. I wondered if she was now looking at me as I was her.
We stared at each for a few moments before I said very quietly. “Well?”
Jesse replied. “Well what?”
We both smiled nervously as we looked at each other in that different light to how we had before.
Reaching up with her left hand and pushing her hair back with a gesture that stretched the thin, silky tennis top tightly across her boobs, she raised her eyebrows.
I stammered. “I guess I mean what now? God I am nervous.”
“I am too, I never imagined I would be doing this,” she replied moving closer to me. Without seeming to think about it, we held hands.
“Nor did I, well not with you,” I replied.
“What you did with someone else then?”
“No, not really, well yes actually, it has crossed my mind,” I said knowing that I was probably sounding guilty.
“Mmmm that’s interesting as I have too,” Jesse replied gently pulling me towards the bed.
“Really,” I replied as we sat on the edge?
“Yes for some time now I have wondered what it would be like to er, um be intimate with another woman,” she said turning and looking at me before adding. “But more in a theoretical and intellectual way than anything else.”
“But you did before.”
“Yes, but I was pissed and it meant nothing.”
“And this does Jesse,” I sighed.
“Yes Chrissy, I think this does mean something, but I am not sure what, do you?” she went on placing her hand on my shoulder.
“No Jesse I don’t know either.”
“But now we might find out,” she whispered and then paused before adding so enticingly. “Let’s lay down”.
We scrambled into the middle of the bed with me on my back and Jesse on her side.
Nothing was said for a while then she murmured.
“So have you been thinking about this?”
“What being with another woman?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to be truthful I have, now and then.”
“For how long?” She asked running her fingers through my blonde hair?
“Oh I don’t know,” I replied enjoying the fingers on my scalp. “A few years I guess, on and off,” I went on reaching up and letting my fingers rub on her wrist.
“But you haven’t done anything about it?”
I turned my face towards her and replied smiling.
“Not until now, no I haven’t.”
“So you are now are you?” Jesse whispered as she ran her fingertips through my hair and onto my forehead.
“Yes, I do believe I am,” I replied stroking the back of her hand that was holding mine. Looking into her eyes, I ran my fingers up her arm pushing the sleeve of the tracksuit up a little way.
“As indeed I do too,” she replied letting her fingers run down my face, across my cheek, going near to, but not quite touching my lips, over my chin and onto my neck. That sent near shock waves of sensations through me.
“Have you thought about it much,” I asked?
“To be truthful I haven’t consciously thought about doing anything with a woman. I have just fantasised about what it would be like, but I do think about sex a great deal, do you?”
Our eyes remained locked as Jesse’s fingertips slid slowly further downwards. They slipped across my collarbones, over the flat, upper part of my chest and nearly to the start of the swell of my breasts. When they stopped a few inches from them, I was surprised to feel disappointed. My breasts felt so full and heavy and warm and tingling and my nipples were aching to be pinched. I realised with a big jolt, that I wanted Jesse to caress them
“Yes, I am afraid I do.”
“Why afraid?”
“Well my sex life has gone a bit tits up lately and I feel guilty.”
“Guilty? About what?”
I didn’t reply for a moment as she lifted my hand close to her mouth. She looked closely at it as if inspecting it or deciding what to do with it. After what seemed an age, but was probably no more than a few seconds, she looked into my eyes and then back to my hand. She brought it to her mouth very slowly, licked the palm and then softly kissed it.
“Oh about feeling so frustrated, wanting sex so much and simply thinking about it most of the time.”
We fell silent again. I continued holding her hand and stroking each finger in turn, she ran her fingertips across my chest going ever nearer to breasts.
“And what do you do about it Chris?” She asked softly.
“And that makes me feel guiltier.”
“What does?”
“How much I masturbate.”
“Well that’s ok I do too. The only problem is how lonely it is,” she said making us both giggle.
“We’re a right pair aren’t we,” I murmured?
“Yes I suppose we are, a real odd couple.”
“So who is Jack Lemmon and who is Tony Curtis?”
“Blimey you have a good memory, I would never have remembered they were in it.”
“I’m a bit of a movie buff.”
“You could have been in them.”
“What films?”
“Yes, you have the looks for it.”
“Do I?”
“Yes darling and…” Jesse said very seriously and pausing as she held my gaze eye before going on. “And the body.”
We held each other’s gaze as slowly Jesse’s fingers slid down my chest so that they rested on the lacy neckline of my tennis top.
“But then so do you,” I responded running my hand up her track suit covered arm and slipping my hand round her neck.
“Oh God.”
“Yes baby.”
“I am so nervous.”
“I am too.”
“Hold me, please cuddle me.”
Jesse lay flatter on the bed on her side. I turned onto my side so we faced each other. We looked into each other’s eyes and smiled.
“We need to relax.”
“I can’t, I am too excited, aren’t you?”
“Yes darling I am,” I whimpered as my friend wrapped her arms round my body and pulled me against hers. She cuddled me and I enjoyed the sensation of being squashed against her fuller, more rounded form. Neither of us spoke as we ‘tested the waters’ of the intimacy of holding another woman and having her body against our own.
Our faces were so close that I could see the eyeliner on Jesse’s eyelids and the tiny hairs on her face. I could smell her perfume and hairspray, could feel her hands on my shoulders and feel her body with my hand. We didn’t move for a few moments; it was as if we were both frozen, but then almost simultaneously we moved our hands down the other’s back. As we did, so we moved forward a tad and the fronts of our bodies touched; our legs, our tummies and most illustratively our breasts pressed together. We didn’t crush them together as a man would probably have insisted.
At first, it was more of a brushing of them against the other, but that was enough to make us more aware of the sheer intimacy of the present position and the potential sexual connotations that could result from it. As well as the sensations of our nipples and boobs touching so we both revelled in feeling the other’s hands exploring our backs. Both pairs of hands slowly slid downwards coincidentally, but meaningfully lingering on the other’s bra strap before coming to rest just above the other’s waist with our fingers gently pressing and rubbing the swell of flesh at the top of the other’s buttocks. We glanced at each other and relished the look of pleasure and excitement in the other’s eyes.
“Was this what you meant,” Jesse asked softly adding. “When you said about being held and cuddled?”
I smiled. “Yes it is and it is lovely isn’t it?”
“Mmmm” was all she said, closing her eyes and running her other hand up my bare arm and slipping it inside the short sleeve of the tennis top. Such a gesture would not usually be considered overtly sexual, even though the hand went as far up the sleeve as it could go right onto the curve of my shoulder that she cupped. To both of us, I think it was a hugely symbolic act. She had ‘invaded’ my clothing, she had fondled some of my flesh that was not on show and she was inching her way nearer and nearer to my breasts. I responded. Also with my eyes closed, I reached up and put my hand on her shoulder just where that meets her neck. As I enjoyed the feelings of her fingers inching along my shoulder and slipping under the strap of my bra, so my hand slid slowly along her shoulder in the other direction. As it did, it took the folds of her tracksuit top with it. That slid over her shoulder and started slithering down her slim, tanned arm. As I put my arm behind her to help the removal of the top, so her thin tennis top was pulled tightly across her chest framing and illustrating her full breasts. We fumbled the top off and lay back cuddling.
We were becoming more accustomed to being in such an intimate situation, to being in each other’s arms, to be caressing and holding each other. Mine, certainly, and I was pretty sure hers as well, confidence increased as we became used to the erotic nature of this female-to-female situation. And as that happened so we became more relaxed and more assured. Our embraces became bolder, the movements of our hands more adventurous and the use of our bodies became more suggestive. Jesse pushed her spectacular breasts forward and I gently pressed my lower body against hers. Then marvellously, wonderfully and so excitingly, our breasts merged and our tummies squashed together as we both experienced maybe for first time an almost head to toe embrace from another woman.
Jesse was a little more adventurous and directing than me. Gently pushing me by the shoulders, she eased me onto my back and she lay alongside me. Supporting her head with her hand, her elbow resting on the bed she whispered.
“This really is remarkable isn’t it?”
Running her fingers through my hair and ruffling it gently as we smiled at each other she slowly ran her fingertips across my forehead, along my plucked eyebrows, over the eyelids that I closed, across my cheeks and onto my lips. I was not wearing any without lippy or gloss. She ran her finger along my bottom lip that I parted slightly from the upper one. I closed my top lip down on the lower one gently trapping the fingertip. With our breasts still squashed together and our tummies touching, we looked into each other’s eyes as the finger was pushed slightly further between my lips. I lifted my hand and gripped the wrist as the finger slid even further between my lips until it rested against my teeth and rubbed against my gum. I softly rubbed, more caressed really her wrist before running my hand up her bare arm, replicating the earlier movements. It felt enormously erotic as my hand slid up the loose sleeve, over the round of the shoulder, onto the collarbone and under the bra strap that was bisecting that.
She removed her finger from between my lips and rubbed it gently over my chin and down onto my neck. I moved my hand from the sleeve of the tennis top and ran it down her back until it reached the elasticated waist of the pale grey tracksuit trousers. As it reached that, my heart started pounding even harder when my fingers found bare flesh for her top had slid out of the trousers. I rubbed my fingertips in little circles on the bare flesh just to the left of her spine. It registered with me that this was the first time that I had really touched a woman in a sexual way. It felt wonderful.
Although, in retrospect, it was a ‘done deal’ and both of us wanted to go further and experience bisexual lovemaking, it did not feel like that at the time. Continually, I had doubts. Funnily, I suppose, these were more concerned with her reactions to me than mine to her. I worried about what she would think as I made advances, how she would react if I touched her breasts, which I was now aching to do and whether she would stop me. I was now feeling fairly comfortable about Jesse and having some form of sex with her. I did not know what form that would take, but I was relaxed about going further, although, of course, I had no idea how far she wanted to go.
My confidence was boosted when there was no resistance and that made me feel bolder. I slid my hand up the smooth back taking the white top with it. As that was happening, her fingertips slid further down from my neck where they had been stroking me. I felt her fingers with the pale pink painted, square cut nails go past my Adams apple until again they reached the neckline of my low-cut top. This time, though, they did not stop.
Looking down I watched them slip inside it and stop close to the start of my breasts. Our eyes met again and we held the other’s gaze as Jesse’s fingers went even further. At the same time, my hand reached her bra strap that was stretched across the smooth, slender back. I fondled it as many men had mine and slid my fingers under it. It was a very evocative gesture and a moment that was made even more extreme when her hand went further into my top. They moved onto the swell of my breasts and stopped. We stared at each other. It was as if Jesse was asking my permission, or I suddenly thought, maybe she is having second thoughts. That made me panic for I did not want to stop. I wanted to thrust my breasts at her, grab hers and scream. ‘Fuck me Jesse, please fuck me and make me cum.’
I did not of course, but then there was no need to.
Naturally, neither of us was aware of the other’s limits or intentions as we both edged our hands slowly over parts of the other’s body. Hers on my chest, mine on her back. I slid my hand slowly up and down her spine. On the upwards sweep it went inside the bra strap and on the downwards one inside the waist of her tracky trouser and onto the slender waistband of her panties.
Our eyes were still locked in an intense gaze as I watched fascinated and with mounting excitement her face moving slowly, yet inexorably towards mine. I think at that moment, we both knew what was going to happen. It was what had to happen, what had to come next and it was what we both wanted to happen. I, and Jesse as well I expect, half felt that it was wrong, but also half felt that it was absolutely correct and right. Yes, we both wanted to kiss each other. Our lips brushed together and we closed our eyes.
“Yes?” Jesse breathed touching my lower lip with her tongue.
“Oh yes, yes,” I groaned.
And then we did kiss. It wasn’t a grinding, lips squirming, mouth wide open and tongue plunging kiss of sheer, raw passion as it would probably have been with a man. No, it was a kiss that was in keeping with what we were doing, sharing affection and intimacy not sex, well not yet that is. That was why we had come to the bedroom and that was why we were laying in each other’s arms on the bed. On the face of it that is. However, the longer we lay in each other’s arms and the longer we shared affection and intimacy so we both realised that those sentiments between two women could not be totally divorced from sex. It was emotionally and physically impossible and on top of that it was not something that either really wanted. We both knew, I am sure, that deeper down we did want sex and with each other; the affection and intimacy were simply the means to the end and the end was sex with each other.
Hence, inevitably, the kiss became sexual. It became the catalyst, the multiplier and the encouragement that altered the mood from just affection and intimacy to one that combined those emotions with now a strong sexual need. So as our lips met and caressed each other with me kissing her top lip then she kissing and sucking my bottom lip, our gestures and hand and body movements took on distinctly sexual connotations.
At last, her fingers slid up the swell of my breast and her hand cupped it. After what had seemed an age in build-up was culminated in a flick of an eyelid. The sensation as her palm brushed across my rock hard nipple and her fingers squeezed the soft flesh was sudden, acute and intense. I grunted and gripped her body.
“Ok?” she whispered taking my nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure.
“Oh yes, Jesse,” I sighed into her ear.
As if by remote control, my hand that had been running up and down her back and making erotic hints by toying with her bra strap and the top of the panties now slid unselfconsciously down inside the grey tracky trousers and onto the panty covered pert, yet beautifully rounded bum.
The kiss increased in intensity and passion, but not in vigour as it would with a man where by now he would have had his tongue half way down my throat. We licked and lapped at each other; our lips, our chins, our necks and the other’s tongue. We sucked on the lips and slithered our tongues together and round the welcoming gums and teeth. The ice of affection and intimacy was most certainly now broken and the last bastion of the fortress of sex was being broached.
As we continued the wonderful kiss, so Jesse’s caresses of my breast became more confident and my stroking of her bottom became more assured and enquiring.
“Ok?” I asked.
“Oh yes Chrissy yes,” she sighed.
My hand was now fully inside Jesse’s panties and I was cupping the cheek of her bottom. We kissed again as her hand continued caressing, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh of my breast.
What we had done together so far could be put down to a near innocent desire for more affection and tenderness. At a pinch, lying on a bed and cuddling another woman could be described as self-indulgent intimacy. Full kissing, squeezing a breast and fondling a bottom could not be explained away like that. Such actions and gestures were driven by just one motivation and we both knew that it was of a strongly sexual nature.
The sleeve on my top slid off my shoulder; accidentally or purposefully, I had no idea and did not care. It slid down my arm until it was around my elbow, until the front of the top was wrinkled, moved down a little and until my left breast in the flimsy bra, was exposed. Her hand was on my bra, her fingers just inside it. My nipples were horrendously swollen making large, very obvious indentations in the lacy cups. Seemingly, without hardly thinking Jesse slid her fingers inside my bra and right onto the rock hard nipple and big, round areola.
It was like an electric shock to me. My breasts and especially my nipples are very sensitive and whenever a new lover touches them, I get a huge surge of sexual arousal. It had rarely, if ever though been as immense as this. My body jerked, I grunted and sighed.
“Nice?” Jesse whispered catching the hardened nipple between her fingers and smiling at me.
I smiled back. “Yes Jesse it is nice.
We kissed again. We were both moaning and whimpering as the full realisation hit us at the same time that we were going beyond friends showing affection to each other and were becoming two women moving well past the limits of a heterosexual relationship. We were beginning to make love and yes, starting to have sex.
Although revelling in having my breasts and nipples loved, I wanted and needed more. I didn’t want to play just a passive part, I wanted full involvement. I wanted Jesse to do more to me and I wanted to return those favours to her
Both of my hands slid up the inside of her tennis shirt. Up the smooth back, past the bra strap and almost to the shoulders. They took the shirt with it. They bunched that round her shoulders at the back and just beneath her full boobs at the front as my fingers caressed the thin, elastic bra strap. Again, as if being directed by some other force so that I could not have stopped myself had I wanted, which I most certainly did not, I yanked the top over Jesse’s head and off.
“Oh my God, Jesse,” I moaned seeing her full, fleshy breasts almost tumbling out of the pale lemon bra that must have been a size too small for her. “They are gorgeous,” I went on as I looked at a female’s breasts with sexual admiration for the first time in my life.
“Sorry about the bra love, but I need a tight one when playing tennis and I hate those big ugly sports jobs,” she smiled.
“That’s alright, Jesse they look lovely in that.”
“Thanks Chrissy,” she replied easing mine out of their cups. “So are yours.”
“Mmmm,” I sighed. “We aren’t playing tennis now are we?”
“What?” she asked clearly not getting my drift.
“Playing tennis.”
“No, of course not.”
“Well,” I went on reaching round her and unclipping her bra strap. “You don’t really need a bra at all do you?”
She giggled. “You’re a dirty little bitch aren’t you?”
“Mmmm yes I can be can’t I?” I smiled back pulling the cups away from each mound.
“And very nice it is too,” she whispered as we both cupped the other’s breasts.
“Oh God,” Jesse sighed as, presumably she felt the pressure relieved on her boobs and realised the enormous step I, or we really had taken..
Jesse pulled my tennis shirt up at the front to bunch it round my neck so that she could get at my little tits. As she did, though, I think I surprised her by raising my arms above my head in a clear invitation to remove it completely. That thrilled me, as did seeing that she eagerly accepted the invitation by quickly pulling the shirt up and off my raised arms.
“Oh my God,” I sighed as for the first time I gazed lustfully at another woman’s breasts.
“Sit up darling,” Jesse whispered.
She fiddled the clasp undone on my bras and removed it. Both now topless, but wearing tracky trousers we suddenly became shy. We had come a long in such short time and we were both half wondering just how much further we could or should go?
“Oh they are beautiful,” I sighed feeling at ease as I cupped one of Jesse’s luscious breasts.
“So are yours,” she whispered back stroking her hand across my smaller pair. “Big ones can be a real pain.”
We sank back to lie on the bed in each other’s arms. We kissed for some time as the reality of what we were doing sunk in and fully registered with both of us. I, certainly and I suspect Jesse as well, suffered some doubts and trepidation at the apparent suddenness of us moving from being seemingly totally straight with our sexuality to at least having a bisexual inclination. And as each of us caressed the other’s breasts and back, so that inclination became stronger. So our desire and needs became more intense, our spirit of sexual adventure increased and our ambition for what we wanted from this coupling grew larger.
Both of us at different times, so it seemed and then simultaneously let our fingers slip inside the waistband of the other’s track trousers, firstly at the back and later at the front. We were now becoming bolder and more adventurous with our caresses.
I was on my back again with Jesse laying on her side looking at me. We were both caressing the other’s breasts, softly, gently and easily. There was no rush or urgency, our actions were not being led by a cock, but by the mind of another sensitive and sexually mature and aware woman. And that was so different for both of us who had been fucked by men probably getting on for four thousand times in our near thirty years of sexual adventures, but not by women.
Being with a woman was becoming more natural to both of us. We both seemed to relax. We were enjoying the languid lovemaking, the measured pace, the lack of a need to cum and cum quickly, but the knowledge, deep down for we had not admitted to how far we might go yet, that if we did cum it would not be the end of our lovemaking. Unbeknown to us, we were beginning to think bisexual bordering on the lesbian, well the lipstick variety at least. We were finding the softness, the lack of stubble and itchy hairs, the smoothness and the gentleness of making love to another woman so different and so wonderful. We were discovering new sensations, finding the touch of the other woman so light and her knowledge of precisely where to caress and stroke with just the right amount of pressure to apply so refreshing.
We were deeply in each other’s arms now. Our mouths were fused together with our lips and tongues probing, squirming and licking. Our breasts were permanently squashed together with her larger, fuller orbs engulfing and seemingly swallowing up my smaller, pert tits. As our bodies were touching from head to toe so, our hands investigated the other’s body. The head and hair, the shoulders and back, the chest and breasts and then further down, lower at the back, on the waist and then inside the waistbands. Inside the tracksuit trousers, on the panty covered bottoms, round the cheeks inside the flimsy garments and onto the squelchingly, erotic round softness of the other’s bottom.
We were sighing and moaning, grunting and groaning as sensation after new sensation washed over us and as more and more, we gave ourselves into the bisexuality of making love with another woman.
It was actually Jesse who made the big leap forward, although had she have not done so I think I would have. It was she who completely discarded her inhibitions. It was she who pushed the boundaries to the limit. Yes, it was my lovely friend who first slithered her fingers down from my waist, at the front and right onto my pubic mound. That made me grunt with surprise and sigh with pleasure. It also made my entire body shudder with the unexpectedly strong, but pleasingly welcome, sensations. I clung to her; I pressed my body more firmly against hers and thrust my mound against her investigating and pleasure giving fingers. Now, with no hesitation those fingers slid down slightly further searching for where we desperately wanted them to be. They found my clit and rubbed it. And they rubbed it with just the perfect amount of pressure.
“Oh fuck, oh yes, oh Jesse,” I moaned as my own hand involuntarily followed a similar route and found exactly the same place on her.
Grinding our breasts together and kissing occasionally, we rubbed and frisked each other’s clit with increasing intensity and passion. But it was frustratingly through the material of two layers of garments. We both knew that was unsatisfactory. Almost simultaneously, our hands left the other’s mound moved upwards, enquired momentarily at the waistband of the other’s trackies and then slipped inside. Journeying down the flatness of one stomach and the slight bulge of the other the two pairs of fingers slid into the other’s pubic thatch.
Again, as good as simultaneously, our fingers found the other’s wetness and slid along the soaked, velvety lips. We both shuddered and gave out low moans. Oddly, my first impression as I touched another woman’s vagina was how warm it was. Stroking each other, we looked into the other’s eyes and then kissed as we prepared ourselves for what was to happen next.
The trousers were not removed. The panties stayed on, but the waistband of them slid down our stomachs a little way due to the presence of the hands being inside them. I could hardly contain my excitement and the surges of enormous sexual pleasure from both what I was doing and what was being done to me. Tentatively, at first, but then with more confidence my finger slid inside the waiting hole just as Jesse’s entered mine. We rubbed each other in and around the inside of our pussies. I felt another finger then maybe three inside me and I did the same to her. That was even more thrilling.
It didn’t seem right or proper to undress fully, so we kept our panties and tracky trousers on. But that didn’t stop us getting what we both so desperately wanted from each other and that was to be finger fucked to an orgasm by our friend who was now our lover. And that is precisely what we did, we finger fucked each other to a spectacular mutual orgasm.
As we lay in each other’s arms, naked above our waists and with our trousers around our thighs we experienced many emotions and a wide range of thoughts. Although many of my emotions and much of my thinking was confused, there was one thing on which I was very clear. That was that I wanted to do it again and do it very soon.