Mourning Becomes Samantha Part 2 By Captain Midnight
Suggested by The Oresteia
by Aeschylus; title inspired by Mourning Becomes Electra
by Eugene O’Neill
Keywords: lesbian, threesome, group, fff, MILF, mother figure, first time lesbian, kissing, oral sex, teenager, love play, licking vagina Woman meets girls, woman falls in love with girls, what next?
This is a three-part novel of imagination, as much a character study as anything else. The general structure is from a trilogy of three separate but related plays, the only surviving trilogy in Greek tragedy.
All characters are based on people I know, with names changed. The events are based on stories
as they were related to me (my emphasis). The interpretations and language stylings are mine. All mine.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
sponsor has informed me that now that I have a fan base, I should pander -- beg your pardon, cater -- to them. Once I recovered from the shock of realizing I actually do have a fan base, I asked the
sponsor how I should cater to them. The response was that I should open each segment of this story with a “teaser,” setting the stage for the story. Although I suspect this is a most convenient way for the
sponsor to break into the action with a half dozen more spot advertisements, it does work rather well to give you a few excerpts from Part I to set the stage here.
Samantha was a fairly typical little girl on her way to becoming a young woman. That was when the disaster hit.
Both parents were killed in an automobile accident. Her only living relative was an uncle. She had to go live with him.
That in itself would not have been so bad, except for one thing. The uncle had married. The aunt quickly prevailed on the uncle to send Samantha to an all-girls’ boarding school.
It was a classic case of arrested development. Samantha had never really had feelings for anybody, had never fallen in love or ever in like, and had no clue of how to deal with feelings of love and sexual feelings.
Susan and Samantha were in the same grade and shared some of the same classes. This gave Susan ample opportunity to observe Samantha, struggling to understand. It also gave Susan a real empathy toward her classmate. When junior year rolled around, Susan and Samantha were assigned a two-bed room together and Susan had much more opportunity to observe her new friend. Samantha was horribly shy and never even undressed in front of another person. Susan, who had had some lesbian relationships at the school, fell in love with the woman she felt was hidden in the frightened girl’s body.
One stormy night as Samantha struggled with a panic attack, Susan climbed in bed with her and hugged her. That turned into kissing and fondling. Samantha was too petrified to respond, but Susan was not discouraged. She continued to make love to Samantha and Samantha began to return the love.
When the girls reached senior year, they became a full couple. After graduating, they decided to take jobs and live together in a Miami Beach-type resort town. Susan’s parents disapproved of homosexuality in any form and refused to acknowledge Samantha.
A few weeks into 2012, Samantha joined Lush and began posting on topic boards about her life. Jean, a longtime bi-curious Lush member and a woman who had lost her parents a few years earlier, warmed to Samantha and began to chat with her. Within a few weeks they were close friends and had gone so far as to exchange E-mail addresses; soon after that they exchanged phone numbers. Within six weeks of Samantha joining Lush, she had invited Jean to visit her and Susan.
Susan’s response was the equivalent of: “Are you freakin’ NUTS?”
There were good reasons for this, of course. Jean could easily be a predator, someone who might be setting the girls up for sexual assault or much worse. Susan gradually convinced herself otherwise after talking with Jean over the phone in person, but she still asked her neighbors in the apartment building where they lived to keep a close eye out for the police.
There was another reason for Susan to not be particularly hot for Jean. Put into the simplest terms, Jean was ANCIENT. She was born during the baby boom years (albeit the last year of them), had been married for 27 years, had a son seven years older than Susan and Samantha, and even had a granddaughter. How hot could a woman her age be?
Ah, the innocence of youth.
Jean had not exactly come into Samantha’s life on a turnip truck. She had spent her years rather wisely, in fact. Being married, staying married for that long, AND having her husband’s full consent to go and make love to a woman says quite a bit about her.
Perhaps it was the camera that did it. Jean had a group of photographs taken by her husband Michael, which show her either dressed up; dressed coolly for the summer; undressed, actually baring herself in her full glory; exploring the inside of her womanhood; and (in a memorable set) in the very act of intercourse with him. She can’t always see his face. When she does, though, it just glows with her love for him. She’s not just hot for him, she looks upon him as her best friend, her partner, her protector when need be, her caregiver when need be, and the most loving man on the planet. The looks make a good one-third of her years melt away, even in the photos where he is behind her and giving her a good sample of his sexual prowess. The only bad one he took of her was when she was caught unawares puffing on a cigarette.
Michael, like too many males, had aged several decades beyond his physical peak in sexual desire. Unlike too many males, he had made up for it with his mind. He knew Jean’s body as well as any man could know a woman, and knew what senses to arouse in her. He also had endurance, and could use his hard-on to massage her from clitoris to cervix and every square millimeter of love tunnel between, bringing her to a mile-high mesa of pleasure where she peaked every few minutes and went back into enjoyment mode, for what seemed like forever before he went off inside her.
Now this is not a hetero sex story -- that will come about later. But there was one factor which would become extremely important in Jean’s relationship with her friends.
Jean had been an army wife her entire adult life. Michael had advanced in the ranks and was highly regarded as an international specialist. So, in 2002, he got the call -- to serve in Afghanistan. 2002. Afghanistan. Not much more to say, is there?
He was gone until February 2003. During this time, their house was burglarized and Jean, who didn’t fear much, was terrified by possible stalkers. Not only for her safety but for his as well. She was, perhaps for the first time, afraid of being a war widow with a son (Jack) who was still a couple of years from being grown and leaving for his own paths. The fear for herself subsided. The fear for Michael continued. Night after night, Jean went through a process once dubbed “dreaming true,” visualizing Michael home safely and her lavishing love on him. With some judicious purchases of toys and some creative ways size the bedding, she imagined making love to him virtually every night. She remembered all the things he had learned for himself and from her, all the things she had learned from him and on her own, and just made love to the man as if he was there.
Thus far, there has been no correlation between human psychology and female fertility. But when he came home, the real man himself, she made love to him like she had starved for him. He, being a man, reacted accordingly. Within a few weeks she took a pregnancy test and up came the plus sign. She was astonished, he was astonished, but after that they were proud. Little Ella was born that November. Jean cherished her newborn -- and got her birth control medication adjusted.
In March 2004, Michael was called up again.
The circumstances were different this time. He was asked to help keep order in a new country, about the shape (and size) of a carrot. The region had been a colonial “overseas province” for roughly four centuries, although the number of people from The Mother Country who actually lived there could be counted in an hour. The Mother Country, which had gone from absolute monarchy to police-state republic without much time for reflection, hung on to the overseas provinces as a matter of pride. Finally the police state gave up the ghost and the overseas provinces became independent -- except for this one. Not that the new government was determined to cling to their most distant possession of all; they actually wanted to let it go on its own. The problem was that the distant land had a very large and very powerful neighbor which was, and remained, a police state.
Sure enough, the big country gulped down the little country without taking a moment to chew on it. The United Nations, led by the former colonial master, complained, but the big country was taking whatever it could grab and was in no mood to listen. Only after the big country’s own police state had sunk into its own muck did the big country listen. The little country became a country at last -- but since its independence transition had died on the vine, it had to learn to be a country all over again. Thus Michael was called in to help.
Jean did not take this with particular joy. Yes, it was a less dangerous posting than Afghanistan. Small comfort. Now that she had an infant daughter, her fears of losing her husband redoubled. Indeed, within a few years Jean would lose her own parents -- to illness, after long and productive lives -- but that did very little to ease the hurt.
Michael, upon returning, made it clear to his superiors that this would be his last overseas assignment. Since he was retirement-eligible, he stayed on for a while as an interpersonal communications specialist until he could open his own business. He made a good success of it, and was able to buy a very large home in a particularly pleasant area, where he and Jean and baby Ella settled down.
Thus, when Jean and Samantha began to talk, Jean had an achingly accurate picture of what Samantha had gone through in life. Their relationship started out as one woman wishing she could make love to another woman to see what it felt like. It wound up with Jean’s caretaker and caregiver instincts coming in full bore.
So far, so good. But what about Susan? She had been the caretaker and the caregiver for Samantha for quite a while now, it would take a really good reason for her to want to give that up. She was as much in love with Samantha as any person had been. Samantha was a wonderful bedmate, one who loved the new things Susan tried. At the same time Samantha and Susan were equals outside bed, each being half of a couple. A third party wouldn’t work -- would it?
A lot can happen in a little time. Jean usually called on Saturday mornings when all three of them were free. Sometimes, Samantha was at work on an early shift and Susan took the call. She and Jean started to hit it off and Susan at least didn’t think older women looked all that bad, not after seeing some of the aforementioned pictures of Jean. They also had some real things in common in their beliefs and feelings.
A few times, Jean was busy. She had let Michael know about what she wanted. He was usually busy himself at his store so he couldn’t make the calls. But their son Jack made a habit of coming over on Saturday mornings to go play tennis with Mom or golf with Dad or just hang around. He knew about Mom’s desires and had no problems with them. The family had been open about love and sex and the similarities (and differences) between them.
Furthermore, Jack and Susan actually liked
each other. Jack may have been Susan’s first real guy friend in her whole life. I don’t know how they liked each other, but she trusted what he said about his mother and eased her mind a lot.
Things moved quickly. Jean had set up a long trip over Easter, the time of rebirth and renewal. Michael, her husband, had given her his blessing -- incredibly brave of him considering what might happen (specifically that she might fall in love with the girls and out of love with her), but based on knowledge of her and love for her.
Jean was going to drive the entire distance, a 10-hour drive. She had agreed with the girls that they would meet and go out to dinner at a nice restaurant, her treat. Then they would return to the apartment for the night and see what happened.
Ten hours in an automobile, no matter how well the ventilation system works, is still 10 hours. Jean had brought plenty of changes of clothes, but she felt like she had run a marathon and believed she looked it. She asked for, and got, permission to take a nice relaxing shower before dressing for dinner.
That’s when Samantha took the initiative for the first time.
Samantha walked into the bathroom and gazed upon the woman who wanted to make love with her. Jean was busy soaping herself down, shampooing her hair, doing all she could to look like the lady she was.
Samantha took a sponge, put soap on it, and washed Jean’s back.
It was a small but utterly touching gesture, and Jean felt it. When Samantha left and Jean went to get dressed, Susan looked at Samantha and gave silent approval.
The dinner went fine. But the return was awkward. Jean sat alone on a couch or a chair while Susan and Samantha sat together. They talked a lot, picking up on topics they had discussed before. But Jean simply would not make a move.
Susan did it. She stood, took Samantha and Jean by the hand and led them into the girls’ bedroom. There Susan and Samantha undressed each other and encouraged Jean to undress. She did, then lay down at the foot of the bed while Susan and Samantha made sweet love. I believe she fingered her womanhood, entranced by the sight.
And that’s when Samantha took the initiative for the second time.
She disengaged herself from Susan, crawled over to Jean, gently removed Jean’s hand and began kissing where the hand had been. The kisses turned into licks. Then the licks turned into all-out cunnilingus.
Jean had been expecting a lot, but not what she actually got. Samantha’s tongue, lips and even her nose were kissing and caressing every sweet spot Jean had. Susan, not to be left out, moved over and began sweetly kissing Jean up top.
Jean went over like she hadn’t gone over in who knows how long, and that’s something considering how wonderful Michael had been all these years. She went from bi-curious to all-out bisexual in less time than it takes to tell it. The women made love until they fell asleep together. The next day, Susan quietly told her neighbors to discontinue the neighborhood watch.
Over the eight days Jean had allotted for the visit, the three women made love in every way they could think of. Since Susan and Samantha still had their work shifts, Jean filled her spare time by seeing the sights. She had been to that part of the country before (with 4-month-old Ella in tow), but not exactly as a tourist; more like a woman who wanted to get away from her worries about Michael for a while. When she wasn’t sightseeing or with the girls, she was on the phone to Michael.
Jean was convinced that she now had two friends for life. She impressed this upon Michael and Jack, when she phoned home. Jean knew the girls hadn’t had a real vacation since they met. So …
By the end of Jean’s stay, the girls loved her so much (and she loved them back) that they took to the idea of a vacation at Jean’s home like children take to an amusement park. In fact, an amusement park was not far off the mark for what Jean had planned. She knew Samantha’s birthday was coming up in June, so she planned around that. Samantha loved to ride horses, and Jean and Michael owned several of them. The girls had never been to mountain country, so Jean planned a camping expedition -- what’s more, to the highest mountains in the country, still snow-capped. A side trip to the big city to sample the cultural wonders. A trip to wine country. Whatever they liked.
Samantha’s birthday was two months away. Two months of planning things out. Two months more of getting to know one another as friends as well as lovers.
And time enough to do one more thing.
“Get on birth control,” Jean told the girls on her way out.
************************************************************************************* You needn't sit there staring.
I am not going to spoil the suspense with my closing narration.
I have you right where I want you -- to where you will willingly purchase the
sponsor’s products, no matter how impractical they may appear to you, in order to get him to bring this story back for its continuation.
In fact, the
sponsor is so intrigued by the idea of leaving you in suspense that he has proposed breaking the final segment of this story into two parts, to give it adequate time to tell this intriguing tale.
I suspect the
sponsor figures to serve you up a double helping of commercials for his product by taking advantage of the breaks in the story.
Nonetheless, since the stories will diversify and become most complex in Part 3, I have agreed to break them at a suitable moment.
We shall return after an interval with Part 3, Sections 1 and 2.
Until then … good night.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/novels/mourning-becomes-samantha-part-2.aspx">Mourning Becomes Samantha, Part 2</a>