Date: Mon, 20 Dec 2004 19:55:07 -0000 From: Carolyn and Leigh Subject: Rare Holiday My name is Leigh. I am 34 years old at the time of writing this. The story that follows is the story of how I met Carolyn, my partner of 7 years (so far!). Our names have been changed, but the places are real. If you have any comments (please, constructive comments only), please send them to carolynandleigh@dial.pipex.com I will start by telling a little about myself. My hair is shoulder length and naturally mousy brown. I highlight it heavily blonde and these days it is more of a twin-tone colour scheme that is trendy these days. I am a lesbian. I think I always have been. I was badly sexually abused by my uncle when I was 12 which I'm sure had a lot to do with it, but I like to think I would have ended up being gay even without that incident. I was quite fortunate in that my father heard what was going on, and never being a man of great subtlety, kicked his brother very hard in the testicles with the boots he was wearing at the time. I suspect that without his intervention my uncle would have raped me and abused me further. Anyway, I pretty much came out of the closet when I was about 14 years old. My parents have always been very supportive and I've never heard a bad word from them about it, other than wishing I would find someone nice and settle down... which I suppose is true of almost every child with parents. I work for a good company, have a very nice car, and earn good money. We do advertising and PR work, in particular representing theme and other amusement parks. I am senior enough that I manage a small team of account-managers, and I deal directly with some of our larger clients. I work hard, and putting in 60+ hour weeks is not unusual for me. It can be hard to get away on holiday, and that is where this story really starts. It was late October, and I had not had any sort of a break for several months. The contracting work was dying down a bit as the summer season was over and the parks tightened their belts to limp through the winter. I decided to take a couple of days leave and make a long weekend of it as the guest of one of our quieter and more secluded clients, an isolated holiday village positioned in the middle of expansive forestry an hour or so's drive away from Glasgow, Scotland. The place specialised in 'get away from it all' type of holidays and the complex consisted of a small 'village' which housed the offices, a small first-aid centre, a couple of shops, and a small hall for scheduled events and so on. The accommodation was maybe 30 or 35 cabins scattered through the forest at varying distances from the central village, with the appearance of being log-built to blend in with the landscape better. They were small, but modern, well-fitted, comfortable and secluded, and had everything a couple could need to spend some quality time alone together. I of course was going to spend some quality time alone with myself rather than with a partner. I had purposefully left my laptop at home so I would not be tempted to do any work while I was away. I have had a few partners over the years, but my dedication to work as well as travelling a lot tended to end relationships fairly quickly. I did not mind so much, I am an only child and I can get on quite well alone. On my first day I arrived in late morning, and it was already raining quite steadily. After exchanging pleasantries with the camp's owner who happened to be on site, I spent the day lazing in my cabin, soaking in more than one steaming hot bubble bath at different times of the day, reading a couple of the books I had brought with me. I only braved the outdoors to walk the three or four hundred yards to go to the well-stocked food store to get some supplies for the next couple of days. I had brought clothes suitable for the autumn chill of Scottish air but had not dressed for heavy rain. Fortunately some previous guest had left a large golf umbrella in the stand by the door and I made use of it. The second day (Saturday) that I was there, the sun rose bright into a clear sky. I decided to go for a long walk. The forest around the small camp was criss-crossed with bark-covered prepared paths, offering walks of varying lengths and hilliness. It had been some time since I had been able to get out into forest and I chose (perhaps foolishly) one of the longer, more difficult paths, of about 13 miles total. Expecting to be gone all day, I packed a small lunch to take with me. I have always loved the forest, especially in autumn, and this was fantastic. The previous day's rain had left the forest smelling wonderful, and the autumn colours of the occasional deciduous tree amidst the lush green pines was quite spectacular. As I strode on, map in hand, I noticed that I was seeing fewer and fewer people. Most of the couples there were happy to stroll slowly down one of the nearer flatter paths arm in arm with their partner and not too far from their beds. I nodded and smiled to each couple I passed, exchanging brief pleasantries with some. I have always been a people-watcher, and I occupied myself wondering at the story behind each of the couples - from the wide and bright eyes of the young couples still deep in lust to the more knowing eyes of the older couples who had been together for decades, wondering what had brought them to this secluded place now. I saw no other single people, and a smile passed over my face as I caught myself wondering what they were thinking about me... I walked for maybe 6 or 7 miles before I stopped for lunch. The path had just crested a tall hill, and the log on which I sat had a glorious view of the mountains and valleys around me, still shining in the early afternoon sun. It was a view that made me wish I had remembered to bring my camera, which was still sitting in the glove compartment of my car back in the camp. After a while I got up and stretched before my muscles started to seize up, and continued on. The path was not easy and I was short of breath many times. It was clearly less well maintained this far out, and sometimes the undergrowth had encroached on the path, making it very narrow in places. It was here that I first met her. I had not seen another person since about a mile out of the camp, and was gently toiling up a twisting path, worrying more about the rising winds and the ominous looking clouds that were about to obscure the sun than the path ahead of me. Suddenly, from around the bend ahead of me, a woman on a mountain bike appeared, going far to fast to stop in time. The bark treatment of the path must have muffled the sound of her wheels, and my own preoccupation with the weather had done the rest. She spotted me at the same time and shouted a warning, but it was too late. The path was narrow here. I tried to jump aside as she squeezed her brakes hard, locking the wheels and skidding towards me. I was off balance and too slow reacting, and took a glancing blow in the stomach from her handlebar that knocked the breath out of me, and I felt a sudden wash of pain from my right foot as her back wheel ran over the wide part of my walking boot and tried to twist it flat to the floor. I was very glad I had laced the strong hiking boots up properly past the ankle, or it would probably have been broken right there. As it was I merely ended up with a nasty strain. I heard a heavy thud, swearing, and then a crash as the bike came to a halt. The rider had been thrown from the bike, probably when the handlebar had hit me, and she had handed heavily on the path - the bike had bounced and rolled side on a couple of times before it wound up against a tree trunk with a solid thunk and stopped. We both lay there for a moment, trying to catch our breath. The rider was on her feet first, looking ruefully at a cut in her thigh which was already starting to bleed and which would need a few stitches. She limped over to me. "My god, are you OK? I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone else was on the path. I know I was going too fast... I'm so sorry." She looked so contrite and genuinely concerned, all my anger at being run into faded away as fast as it came. Besides, if I'd been paying attention, I would probably have heard her and been able to get out of the way. I tried to speak, but was still winded. "... ankle ..." was all I could gasp. She pointed to my right ankle which I was clearly favouring, raising a questioning eyebow, and I nodded. "Is it broken?" she asked. I shook my head. She started to carefully unlace my boot, pulling the laces all the way out so she could open it as widely as she could. I felt her fingers probing around, checking that the bone was sound. I hissed in pain a couple of times as she poked a sensitive spot, but there was no bright glare of agony that comes when a broken bone is touched. By this time I had gotten my breath back some. "I think it's just twisted." I said. She nodded. "It's going to swell badly." She was right, I could already feel my boot tightening. "It's going to hurt some, but we need to get that boot off now. If you leave it until we can get back to the cabins it will hurt a good deal more." I knew she was right, and bit my lip as she continued until the boot was unlaced completely. Supporting my ankle, she eased the boot off my foot. It did hurt, but I knew it was for the best. "Sorry." she gave me a little smile with just the corner of her mouth - in that one expression she managed to acknowledge the pain she had caused me and apologise for it too. She turned back to my foot and peeled down the sock. "Yup, that's swelling already. Hang on a moment." She rummaged in her small backpack and pulled out a cold spray. "We're going to need to get you back to the nurse in the camp and you can't walk on that. I can push you back on the bike. Let me get that ready so we can move you while the spray is working." "Thanks." I offered with sincerity. I had just realised it must be at least five miles back to camp, even if we went back the way she had come. I watched her as she went over to her bike to assess the damage and got my first good look at her without distractions. She was quite short and stocky but narrow waisted. She took off her helmet and ran a careless hand through her short bonde hair. Not really my type - I tended to go for the willowy dark look - but as she bent over to pull her bike free I could not help but admire a tight bottom that would always be shapely no matter how much she worked out, encased in her skin-tight riding shorts. The strong muscles in her legs were clearly visible as she held the front wheel between them to straighten out the handlebar. She spun the wheels to make sure they ran freely and then leaned it against a nearby tree before crouching by me again. She smiled at me again as she shook the can of spray and I saw she had pale blue eyes that all but sparkled in her round, honest face. She wore no make up and even though she wasn't pretty in a conventional way, I found her easy smile and unforced expressions beautiful beyond words. She sprayed the swelling ankle and after a moment's intense cold I felt the glorious release from the pain. She grabbed my hand and pulled me up onto my good foot. supporting me with an arm around my waist as I hopped to the bike. She held it steady and her shoulder provided something to lean on as I got on. "I think we will have to go back the long way." she said. "The trail gets pretty steep the way I was going. I don't know if I would be able to get both of us up the slope. It's up to you - your ankle will get jolted either way." "Whichever you think best. This is my first time on this trail." She nodded and scooped up her pack, hefting it to her shoulders. She gripped the handlebar with one hand and I felt her hand rest lightly on my bottom as she took a hold of the seat for a better hold to push from. "She turned towards me and said, "Hold on to me or the handlegrips if you need to. My name's Carolyn by the way, but call me Lynn." "Leigh." I said as she started to push the bike back down the trail. "And thanks so much for the help getting back." "Not a problem. Least I could do since I ran into you." "It was an accident. I should have been paying more attention." I put my arm around her shoulders to steady myself and I smelled the scent of her. There was a mixture of a pleasant perfume, deodorant and shampoo from her hair, all overlaid by the almost earthy scent of the sweat from her exercise. Perhaps it was just gratitude for her helping me and being so capable but I found myself starting to become attracted to her. I enjoyed the warmth of her hand resting behind my bottom, especially when she slipped her thumb between my bottom and the seat to get a better grip for the steeper sections. I loved feeling her so close as I held her shoulder with my arm. I tried to keep my grip light, but sometimes when my ankle was jolted badly I would gasp and involuntarily tighten my hand. She bore all this without complaint, as she pushed the bike and its helpless passenger back down the trail. We spoke companionably about many things on the way back. We found out that we actually lived quite close, all things considered, I lived about 40 miles away from her. She said she was up in the mountains to sort out a few things in her head, mainly because her father had died only a month before. I talked about my work, found out that she had really quite a poor job considering her obvious intelligence, but that it just about paid the bills and she was happy in it. She spoke about her relationships and I was not surprised to find out she was straight, and had had a string of relationships over the past 10 years with none lasting long enough to be called serious. When it was my turn to speak about partners, I managed to mutter something about not really having the time, and steered the conversation away. I liked this woman. I didn't want to scare her off by telling her I was gay too soon. I'm not ashamed of it, but I don't wear my sexuality like a badge that defines everything about me, and I've seen too many people fall at the altar of prejudice to be willing to risk it now. There would be enough time for that confession later. It was slow going. We must have been half way back when the rain finally broke, a mile or so past where I had stopped so many hours ago to have my lunch. The rain pattered down in big, wet drops, quickly getting heavier, and even more quickly soaking both of us to the skin. The clouds continued to gather as the light began to fade with autumn's early evenings, There was no thunder, and the wind had faded. there was hardly any sound except the sounds of the rain pattering into the forest around us, and Carolyn's breathing as she struggled on. I could see she was getting tired. She may have been physically fit and powerfully built but it was a long way back, and while I wasn't drastically overweight, I wasn't a stick-thin supermodel either. I was taller and probably had at least 30 pounds on her. I wished there was something I could do to help, but when I asked her to stop to see if I could put weight on my bad ankle, I almost fainted from the pain. My cabin was the closest of mine and hers - She had a cabin almost opposite to mine on the camp lay out and it was about three quarters of a mile further. The pain of my ankle had lessened, but as Carolyn helped me off the bike I realised that it was from the cold that was spreading up from my toes. As I fumbled the key for the door, my fingers had lost all sensation and I struggled with the suddenly tiny piece of metal, both of us shivering and teeth chattering. Finally I managed to get the key in the lock and open the door. We almost fell inside, Carolyn pushing the door closed behind us. "We have to warm up." she said, and I was shocked to see her now in decent light. Her lips were turning blue from cold - all she had been wearing was quite a light top and cycling shorts. She must have been freezing. I noticed then the cut on her leg which I had almost forgotten about - her whole leg below it had a red tint to it and her sports sock was stained red too - ovbiously it had bled considerably as she pushed me, the blood only being washed away by the rain. It had clotted now, but it must have bled for some time with the exercise. She must have been weak from loss of blood but still had grimly plodded on. "Bathroom." I said as I wrenched the wall thermostat around from a comfortable room temperature to as hot as it would go. I heard the oil-fired boiler clunk into life at this new demand as I staggered through to the bathroom. The room was almost as large as the whole rest of the cabin and the jacuzzi bath itself more like a hot tub, the ceiling and the whole of two walls made of glass, awash with the steady flow of rain. With shaking hands I pulled on the tap and punched the electronic control to set the temperature. After a moment the water began to steam. I was careful not to make the water too hot as I knew warming up would hurt. Already my hands and feet were starting to tingle, just from the warmth of the air. Realising what was to come later, I applied a generous amount of muscle-relaxing bath salts to the water, which swirled and mixed, making the water cloudy. Carolyn had pulled off her socks and training shoes and told me to sit on the edge of the bath so she could take off my remaining boot. Her hands were shaking and so unresponsive from the cold it seemed to take forever. By the time she was done, the tub was just over half full. She climbed in fully clothed and I wasted no time following her. We both moaned in pain as sensation and blood returned to our extremities. I let the bath fill up to three quarters and then pushed the buttons to make it hotter. Carolyn held her breath and immersed her head as well, making sure her ears and nose got the benefit of the heat as well. I followed suit. The initial rush over, we relaxed into the heat, letting it penetrate our cold flesh. Then suddenly she laughed and started to take off her cycling gear. Without embarassment she had quickly stripped down to nakedness as she lay back in the water. It seemed churlish not to follow, especially since I was wearing more, and I did the same. She could not know how uncomfortable it was for me. The tub was deep and had been built for two people to sit in, but the designers had intended the two to be more intimate than just-met strangers. our legs were intertwined as we huddled down to get the most form the water, and we must have only been an inch or two away from a very intimate contact! I had caught a glimpse of her breasts as she took off her top and sports bra, and I could a rush of excitement as the one thing about her that was what I had previously thought of as 'my type' were her boobs - they were small, she was almost flat-chested. Maybe an A cup at a push, with coral tips - a little pinkish orange areola and small, tight nipples. My own breasts were heavier and had a larger and darker areola and nipples that only became obvious when I got really excited. I could feel them starting to respond even now and made sure to hide them under the bath-salted water of the bathtub. If this were written purely for the sex, we would doubtless have been at it like rabbits within a minute or two. But, this is a true story, and I would have had to face the real life consequences of making a move on her, so a bath is all it was. She was first out, and I tried not to stare as she toweled herself off. She had a well-toned body, really a bit over muscular for her frame. Her muscles made it clear that she did weight training and she kept herself in trim. There can't have been an ounce of spare fat on her anywhere. It was a most wonderful torture to watch her entirely nude, even though she mostly kept her back turned to me with a subconscious coyness that made me smile, and I surreptitiously watched her as she searched a cupboard for one of the robes provided by the camp. Finding them and putting one on, she tossed one for me over a chair by the bath, picked up both our clothes and wrung them out before going into the living room and setting a fire in the grate. I heard her use the toilet, and that reminded me I had not been for hours and hours. Suddenly I had a burning need to get out, and called her back in. She helped me out of the bath, and at my insistence let me dry myself even though it meant I had to hop awkwardly and painfully as the movmement jolted my ankle. Rather that than have her touching and rubbing against my body. I put on my own gown and after using the toilet myself, followed her into the living room. A wood fire was burning strongly in the grate, and the room was already pleasantly warm. As I turned the thermostat back down, I could hear her singing to herself softly in the kitchen as she busied herself making some food. Our clothes were hanging on the fire guard, drying quickly in the heat. After we ate, a light salad of some kind, we chatted for a short while, but we were both drained and tired, and I offered her my sofa for the night which she accepted. Even though it was early still I had no trouble getting to sleep. We spent the Sunday in each others' company, getting to know each other and taking our wounds to see the camp nurse. We exchanged emails and phone numbers so we could meet up when we got home. Now that she knew me better, she was a bit more probing in her questions but I again steered around the lesbian issue. It was clear that she knew I was hiding something, but she didn't want to push too hard. She had to go on the Sunday afternoon, but I had another night booked and didn't leave until Monday morning. The swelling in my ankle died down overnight and although it was painful, I was able to drive. As I turned the car southwards again, my mind was turning over the possibilities of what I should do, and how it would turn out. In the next week, I was quite busy, but I made sure that I found the time to send her three or four teasing emails. Her responses were witty and funny and I found myself falling for her quite badly. The week after provided me with the opportunity. On the friday I was driving back south after an early meeting in Scotland (a different client than the camp I had stayed at) and my boss had said I didn't need to come back to the office as the week's work had already been done. I took the opportunity on Thursday night to call Carolyn from my hotel, and arranged to meet her just after she finished work. I was happy to hear there was no hesitation in her voice when she agreed, and my heart leaped that she might actually want to meet up with me again! The morning meeting seemed to last forever. As I was driving down the A1 from Edinburgh I found myself unconsciously pushing the car faster and faster and had to force myself to slow down so I would not risk being pulled over by the police. Even so, I arrived in Peterborough over two hours early. To try and take my mind off it I took the opportunity to go shopping in a different city centre than I usually did, which allowed me to kill the time quite happily. Soon, 5.30 rolled round, and when it did I was there waiting outside her office for her. She spotted my car straight away, and with a cheery wave and a joke with one of her colleagues, she had climbed in and had started to busily chat away. I was happy to listen as I pulled away and on her direction drove about a mile into the country to a pub which she said would be good to have a chat. It was my kind of place - it was an old style village pub, but big, roomy and open-plan. The bar was a square set in the centre of the room, staffed by maybe half a dozen bar staff. Carolyn explained that the place was frequented for after-work drinks, as well as business meals, by the companies in the nearby industrial estate that she herself worked in. I was famished after my long drive on no lunch, and offered to buy her a meal to keep me company while I ate. She agreed, and we spent a very pleasant couple of hours talking and chatting over the food. I had to force myself to stop staring at her - that smile of hers, the laughter in her voice and her eyes... By then it was about 8 in the evening and the pub was starting to fill up with a younger crowd on their way to their friday night excess in the city, and we were starting to need to raise our voices to speak. We were talking about our favourite films, of which we had only a few in common. She liked pretty much anything that made her laugh, while I tended to go more for the actioner type of film. One of her favourites was 'Tremors' which I had not even heard of that she said I might like because it was quite fast-paced. At this point the noise of the pub was getting quite intrusive and so I asked her if she wanted to move on elsewhere. She agreed and I took the bull by the horns and asked if we could go to her place so that we could watch the film. Feeble. But she actually agreed, after I convinced her that driving 20 miles in the opposite direction that I would need to go later didn't bother me. Heck I'd already driven 250 miles, another 20 wouldn't make the difference! We left the pub and I drove her back to her car and then followed the straining little VW back to her house. My mind was racing about the possibilities. My nose was full of her perfume, and all I could think about was how she creased the corner of her eye when she smiled. I wondered if she had guessed the truth about me yet. I resolved to tell her before the evening was out. I just had to. The half hour alone in the car had not dampened my ardour at all. If anything it had increased still further. We stopped at an off-license just before we got there to get a bottle of wine to share. She popped upstairs to change out of her work clothes, leaving me to have a little look around, and to pour a couple of glasses of wine. Her house had a clean, but lived in look - of someone who was too busy living their life to worry too much about keeping things tidy but who cared enough to run a duster over surfaces and vacuum the floor. I was half hoping she would reappear in something revealing and sexy, but this is real, not a fiction! She came back down wearing a T shirt and a looser (but slightly shorter) skirt, both of which had seen better days and had been clearly relegated to 'comfy wear'. I had noticed there were hardly any pictures around the house and used that as a bit of an ice breaker. She blushed a bit and said she'd never liked having her picture taken, not because she was insecure but because... well, she didn't really like it. We chatted a couple of minutes more before we moved into the living room to watch the film. She sat down in what was obviously her favourite spot - it was a short sofa, in between a two seater love seat and a full 3 seater. The seat she sat in had a table next to it with the TV guide, a couple of remotes, a light and the phone... all within easy reach. I settled myself down on the other end of the sofa. It was she who turned off the main light, saying she always preferred to watch films in the dark as it was less distracting and you could get into them better. I didn't mind, as it allowed me to steal looks at her face, which had progressed from my initial rather plain assessment to being stunningly attractive even in the unflattering light from the TV. I got up to go to the bathroom about 30 minutes in, and when I got back I was pleased that she had been considerate enough to pause the film for me while I was out. I have always thought that it's those little things that people do without thinking that set them aside, and Carolyn has never stopped doing them all the time I've known her. I sat myself down closer to her than I had been, and once she was absorbed in the film again I found I could hardly stop staring at her. I couldn't pretend any longer. I just had to tell her. "Carolyn?" I said tentatively. "Hmm?" she was still watching the film, only half paying attention to what I was saying. "It's important." she turned from the TV to look at me, an angle which threw most of her face into shadow so I had trouble reading her reactions. Damn. "I have to tell you something because it's not fair on you if I don't." I found myself squirming in my seat. This was always the worst part. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Carolyn, I'm very attracted to you. I've been a lesbian all my life." I stopped, and my heart sank into the depths of an abyss as I saw the usual response. She moved back slightly, and I saw her nostrils flare slightly in the flickering light. "If you want me to, I will leave right now. Just say the word and I will go..." She said nothing, studying me with a blank expression. "But..." Still nothing. I felt wretched. "But if you want to, if you think you can, I think we have something going on here." Still nothing. It was starting to worry me. I decided to up the ante and go for broke. I raised my left hand very obviously and hovered it for a second over her right knee so she would be under no illusions what I was about to do. Seeing no reaction, I gently lowered my hand onto the bare skin of her knee. There was no reaction, not even a flinch. I started to hope. I knew that when she had been younger she had done quite a bit of sexual experimenting in college - our conversations had touched on some of the funnier stories a couple of times, so I was hoping she would be open to this as well. I started to stroke her leg, gradually moving my hand higher up her thigh. She still made no move to stop me. We said nothing, the film was still playing but had faded into the background for both of us. I could hear her breathing start to shorten and quicken, and saw her knees relax slightly further apart. It was a subconscious movement but enough for me to notice. But I still didn't rush. I knew that if I did I could still jeopardise the whole thing. I kept on stroking her leg, higher and higher, I was pushing back her skirt and was past mid thigh, and there was no mistaking my intentions. She licked her lips and relaxed back into the sofa. I saw her hips begin moving in a slight pumping motion - this is common to pretty much every woman I have ever been intimate with - I think the movement is instinctive when women get turned on. Whatever, it was a good sign as she was obviously enjoying my touch. I could clearly see her nipples under her T shirt and I longed to see them in their pert little glory. Still stroking her leg, I could feel the heat between her legs, growing as her hip movement intensified. I leaned over to her and gently kissed her on the lips. Hesitantly she returned the kiss, at first reticent and unsure, but very quickly becoming very passionate as our tongues twisted and explored each other's mouths and lips. I started to move my hand up higher and I felt my fingers brush against the crotch of her underwear. I could feel that it was soaking wet through. I was amazed, I had never had that kind of reaction from relatively low-level stimulation before. Only a minute or two after I moved my hand from stroking her legs to rubbing her lips and the front panel of her panties, she stiffened and tensed, and with a low moan clutched my arm as tightly as her thighs were holding my hand still as she tipped over into an orgasm. I could feel her wetness leaking through the cloth of her knickers as she came. I waited for her to finish, and removed my hand, noticing as I put it back on her leg that my fingers left glistening moisture trails. I was smiling at her when she opened her eyes and she grinned back at me. "That was wonderful, thank you." she said, kissing me. "I must be blind, I never guessed you were a lesbian before, but you're right, we have hit it off so well I figured what the heck. I've never been so prudish that I'd turn down sex, and I have never had one on one sex with another woman. And you are pretty, willing, and experienced... and I like you a lot." Already, she had given me more than I could possibly have dreamed of. But then, she spoke those wonderful words. "Let's go to my bedroom. I want to experience this properly." This was beyond my wildest hopes. Not ten minutes before I had been agonising about telling her I was gay, and here she was inviting me to her bedroom! I wasn't about to say no, and almost too hastily got up. She finished her glass of wine with three big mouthfuls, liquid courage most likely, and then got up to lead me upstairs. In the light from the stairway I saw that the back of her skirt was showing a significant damp spot and I checked the back of my own skirt to see if I had gotten wet enough to show. I was very horny, but I've never gotten to that kind of stage of lubrication. Her bedroom was very cluttered - It looked like she pretty much lived in it. Later on I found out this was actually true - it was a habit she developed in her teenage and college years and never got around to breaking. She started to get undressed, but I stopped her. I wanted this to go well from the very start. I switched on her bedside light and turned out the main light, then hit the play button on her stereo system and turned the music low. I slipped around behind her and ran my hands around her waist, pulling her gently back into my body as I swayed with her to the music, stroking almost everywhere I could reach, stimulating as much of her skin as I could. She leaned back into me, clearly enjoying the gentle caress on her stomach, hips and legs. I avoided the obvious areas for now - I wanted to get her worked up properly. After a minute or two of this, I started to slide my hands under her T shirt, still stroking her stomach but gradually getting higher. I could feel the muscles under her skin tense and relax as we danced slowly. She held my hands with hers as I caressed her. I continued to move higher, and soon I could feel the slight swell of the bottom of her breasts. As I had thought, she wasn't wearing a bra, and as she leaned back into me her breasts were just two slightly soft mounds of loveliness on her chest. I don't think she even noticed as I ran my hands up her body, taking her T shirt with them over her head. We continued to dance front to back, with her now topless. I cupped both her breasts with my hands and used my fingertips to gently push and tease her nipples. They were already hard, but I could feel the skin around them get engorged as well as she got more excited. I started to roll them occasionally between finger and thumb, still stroking the rest of her torso. She leaned her head back onto my shoulder, her eyes closed, and I nuzzled into her neck, kissing and licking the skin, scraping it gently with my teeth. Still massaging her breast with one hand, I moved the other down her stomach and let my fingers slide under the elastic waistband of her cotton skirt. I was tempted, SO tempted to go under her panties as well but I stopped myself, somehow. I slid my other hand down and moved them out to her hips, where I pushed the elasticated waist of her skirt until it was clear of the flare of her hips, where it dropped to the floor at her feet. I placed my right hand over the front of her panties, feeling how wet they were, soaked all the way up to the waistband, and returned my attention to her breasts. I kneaded her crotch in the same rhythm as her nipples, my palm pressing on her clitoris, and I could feel her breathing quicken and her body start to tense at the stimulation. I backed away from her sensitive areas - the next time she came I wanted to see it, and taste it too. I was undressing her faster than I had planned to but I was too horny myself to stop. I crouched down behind her, my palms cupping the tight curves of her behind, before reaching up to the strip of cloth around her waist. I slowly pulled her panties down, her wetness making them stick to her pussy lips. Through her legs I caught a glimpse of her wet and matted pubic hair. I leaned forwards and kissed both of her bottom cheeks before I stood up behind her again. I badly wanted to reach around her body and rub her, feel her pussy as she orgasmed in my arms - but more I wanted her to want me when she first saw me naked... I am confident but the old fear still dogged at my heels! There less chance of her running in fear if she was highly aroused already... so I selfishly left her hanging on the edge. She almost whimpered as I stopped my caresses and pulled back away from her. "Lie on the bed, Carolyn, let me strip for you." She almost threw her lean body onto the bed, her legs tight, trying to contain her orgasm for her lover, her hand cupping her pussy as she watched me, her other hand stroking her nipple. I knew I would have to do this fast. Smiling seductively down at her, I unbuttoned my blouse and let it hang open, exposing my bra. I unzipped my skirt and with an unseemly haste, as I stepped out of my shoes, I pushed it down, along with my tights and panties - there is no sexy way to take off tights, unfortunately... I was going a lot faster than I wanted to but I could see her eyes starting to glaze and knew I didn't have much time. I unclipped my front-fastening bra, dropping it backwards off my shoulders with my blouse. Both of us now naked, I climbed onto the bed and into her arms. She ravished my mouth with a kiss that left me quite breathless, her tongue fierce as it jabbed between my lips. I was on my hands and knees over her, and I purposely let my breasts slide over hers, letting them stroke her rock hard nipples. I broke the kiss and moved my mouth to her nipple, sucking on it and teasing it with my teeth and tongue. I don't think I've ever known anyone with nipples as tight and hard as Carolyn's. It kept springing up pert and hard in my mouth. I left it for the ministrations of my fingers, and started to kiss my way down her stomach. "Wait." Carolyn gasped. "Get a towel... please... or the bed will be too wet to sleep in tonight." With a longing look at her pussy, I quicky climbed off the bed and hot-footed it to the en suite shower room, grabbing the first towel I saw and folding it over as I came back to the bed. I positioned it under her bottom, seeing that the sheets already needed to be changed. I positioned myself between her legs and gazed down at her furred pussy. It looked like she didn't trim it at all, but unless she wore high cut bikinis she didn't need to. Her pubic hair was a very light brown, formed into an almost perfect triangle above her vagina. There was very little hair on her lips even though her bush was quite dense above. I used both hands to gently open her slit. Her vagina opened in front of me, pulsing and swollen with her excited heartbeat, and a steady stream of her juices leaking out. I extended my tongue and gently stroked the tip of it over her opening, tasting her for the first time. She was musky, but it was very faint. I have been with a few women whose juices have smelled so strong it almost made your eyes water. But Lynn's were pleasant and if anything underpowered. I could have licked at her all day I think! I ran the tip of my tongue up her slit, probing at the top. I had a bit of a job finding her clitoris, I could barely feel it, a hard little bump nestled under an almost non-existent hood. She shuddered as my tongue touched it and I felt her tense up again in the start of another orgasm. Her hands pushed my head tighter into her sex and her legs were starting to squeeze the sides of my head. I quickly moved down to cover her pussy with my mouth, delving inside with my tongue as she came, and was shocked when a flood of her juices ejaculated into my mouth, so hard I could hardly swallow in time for another mouthful. No wonder she had warned me to get a towel - she was wetter than any other woman I had been with. I waited until she had recovered a little before licking up any stray juices, avoiding her sensitive clitoris so that she wouldn't get too turned on. Even so, When I was almost done I could see her starting to ooze again and wondered about Lynn's sexual stamina (I later found out that it was almost inexhaustible, much to our mutual pleasure!). I crawled up her body, and supporting myself on my elbows lay on top of her to kiss her softly on the mouth. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and hugged me as she kissed back. She had a relaxed, contented smile on her face and I felt very happy knowing I had helped to put it there. "You've just given me two of the best orgasms I've had for months." she smiled. "Will they all be that good?" "Every single one." I muttered back, kissing her again. "Can I try you now? I've never looked that closely to another woman's sex before. Tell me if I'm doing anything wrong." She smiled mischievously. I rolled off her, expecting her to move so that she was between my legs, but to my delight she waited until I was settled and then straddled my head with her knees, before dropping down in the classic 69 position. Once again I had a mouthful of her pussy, and I wasted no time in getting down to business! I poked at her clit with the tip of my tongue, rubbing against it with the rough surface. I could feel her fingers gently probing around my own pussy, presumably exploring before she got started. I was completely clean-shaven, and where her slit was very tidy, with none of her inner lips protruding at all, mine was more of the sticking out kind. I felt her part my lips and could feel the coolness on the sensitive wet flesh there as she breathed. Her finger brushed along the slit and found my rock hard clitoris, which must have seemed immense to her even though mine is only average size, since hers was so small. I had to grit my teeth and hold onto the sheets tightly to stop myself tipping over as I felt her lips engulf my clit and her tongue push it around as it was held between them. I realised I was starting to neglect my own duties, and turned my attention back to her pussy, hoping that this distraction would stop me orgasming too soon. Keeping one finger kneading her clit, I held open her slit with the other hand and started to lick her pussy as deeply as I could. Soon my tongue was aching and I replaced it with a couple of fingers. She was amazingly hot and tight inside, but my fingers slid in smoothly all the way up the knuckle. She moaned into my pussy as I started to work them in and out slowly, in time with the rubs against her clit. I bent my fingers so that they were pushing into her G spot every time I went into her and she started moaning and moving around much more violently than before. I suddenly felt her mouth clamping on my pussy and sucking the flesh into her mouth, her tongue jabbing and probing at the constricted entrance. Her hand started to fiercely rub against my clit and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold back much more. I increased the speed of my finger-fucking and clit rubbing as she increased the vigor of her own service. The last thing I felt just before my monstrous orgasm hit, was what felt like a bucketload of wetness pushing from her pussy and splashing onto my face. But then I was consumed by a huge orgasm, one that had been building inside me all day in anticipation. It was like worlds colliding in my groin. When my orgasm subsided, My face was soaked and my hair wet. Lynn was lying on top of me still, seemingly spent. I rolled her off me and turned around, lying beside her. She opened her eyes and kissed me, and I could taste myself on her lips. "You're amazing." I whispered. I wasn't kidding - I had not come that hard for years. When we had recovered, we had a shower together. She surprised me in the shower my grabbing me from behind and using her fingers on me in the same way she masturbated herself. Her light and skillful touch soon had me reaching for support as my legs went weak, which she provided by holding me close to her. We made love again in bed. I slept that night in her bed, and for most of saturday we never left it. And that was the start of our relationship. We have been going strong for 6 years now. Not to say we have not had some problems, but when we compare them to living without each other, those problems seem very small and get sorted out very fast. Lynn was so passionate, so caring, so understanding, I can't begin to understand how she had managed not to get attached until I met her. Sexually she classifies herself as a bisexual. Personally I think she is kidding herself - 10 years of a string of relationships with men, none of them lasting more than 3 months, and then I come along and we have 7 years comitted. I think she's been a lesbian all her life and just didn't see the signs. Leigh Anne C.