It was three weeks since Helen’s awakening - that’s what she called it to her self, rather solemnly. She just thought it was some sort of watershed; but if this were so, why had she not repeated the experience? Well, there was the fact that she had had a long miserable virus infection two days after her “good night”. And after that: well, she had felt a bit “off” - just recovery, she supposed. It was natural to feel a bit depressed after flu.
This morning, however, she woke up feeling her old cheerful self, happy and ready for anything. And
she was feeling horny. It was Saturday. Should she go back to that club and see if she could hook up with her two girlfriends? The idea got her hot, and she dealt with that in her usual way, remembering vividly what had happened that night.
another reason why she had felt down: her parents were at it again; hardly a day went by lately without a long, loud argument. She would be glad to be out of it in the evening. One thing she could say about them: they let her live her own life. If she wanted to stay out, they accepted that she had to grow up. Anyway, she seemed to be growing up a lot lately.
Predictably, that evening she went back to the club. Despite her age, Helen didn’t like crowded places. So, when she found the club absolutely packed , she thought of going home. But she had already paid, so she decided to see how it went. She got herself a drink and went searching for Abbie and Joan. She had promised to ring them, and felt a bit guilty, especially as she had neglected to give them her number. They were nowhere to be seen. Helen felt a bit flat and very disappointed. So much for the night of fun she had been planning.
On the other hand, here was a place full of luscious women; why not see what developed? She decided to get another drink and see if anyone tried to chat her up. She wasn’t very good at this kind of thing, and the place was so
packed; she ended up sitting at a table next to two young girls who were only interested in each other. The drink didn’t last long, and rather than go back to the bar and get shoved about trying to order, she felt it was best to give it up. Helen left the club around 9.30, feeling quite pissed off - and a bit lonely, too, for some reason.
“Hi,” said a voice behind her.
Helen looked round and saw a woman about forty propping up the wall outside the club, just under the sign with its single word title, “She.”
“Hi,” replied Helen, “do I know you?”
“I saw you chatting to Abbie and Joan a few weeks ago,” the woman replied.
Helen studied her in the light of the street lamp; she was very slim, with a pretty face and (presumably) dyed blond hair. No make-up, Helen noticed. 'I hope I look that good without “slap” when I’m her age,'
“Are they friends of yours?” was what she said.
“Not really, but they’re great fun, don’t you think so?”
When she said this, she looked straight into Helen’s eyes, somewhat mockingly, she thought. Helen could feel herself colouring a bit. The woman obviously knew what they’d been up to. Had Abbie and Joan told her what they’d done? Did people do that? She felt so naïve, and knew it wasn’t just a feeling.
“What’s your name ?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Sandra,” she said, still with that half-mocking lilt to her voice.
“I know,” Sandra replied, again with that slightly amused sound to her voice. She then asked her if she fancied going for a walk. Helen agreed, but she immediately went into a bit of a sulk. She had a tendency to do this from time to time, partly a result of her mild attacks of paranoia and low self-esteem; the good news was that she soon came out of it, especially if the other person was funny and could make her laugh.
Fortunately, Sandra had that quality, and soon had her chortling away like she was totally pissed (which she wasn’t). Suddenly Sandra, with her head turned away, said, “ Do you fancy coming back to my apartment? I live right over there.” She waved her hand vaguely towards some purpose-built high-rise luxury flats.
Helen’s old habit clicked in as she gave her usual knee-jerk reply, “Sure.”
In no time at all, they were inside the block and heading for the lift. Helen experienced a sudden feeling of unreality, and not a little fear. If this woman knew (as she probably did) all about her escapades that night, she would very likely be expecting Helen to sleep with her. 'Do I want to do this?'
she asked herself. Firstly, the woman was much older than her, but on the other hand, so were Joan and Abbie. Secondly... there was no secondly, unless it was to ask herself, 'Do I fancy her?'
The answer wasn’t long in coming. 'Anyway, I’m well over the age of consent, so I’ll do what the hell I like.'
Deep down, she felt she was on some odyssey, and she was excited at the thought of where it might lead.
Once inside the apartment, Helen didn’t know what to do. To think that just weeks ago she had stripped in front of two women she had just met, and now she felt shy in front of one. 'Why is that?'
she wondered. Sandra asked her if she wanted a drink.
She shot back with the usual, “Sure.”
They both sat there for a while making small talk. Then suddenly Sandra said, “Would you like to see me naked?”
Helen swallowed hard. “Yes.” she replied.
Sandra stood up and slowly undressed; slowly, but not teasingly. She stood there proudly nude. She had a slim figure and a belly as flat as Helen’s, but what Helen couldn’t keep her eyes off was the long, deep scar that ran around her body, from her left breast to just below her right hip.
It wasn’t that she (Sandra) appeared to be ashamed of it; far from it: she was supremely confident, happy in her skin as they say. It was the effect it had on Helen which was remarkable. With Abbie and her girlfriend, it had been pure naked lust that they all had for each other, but with this woman it was different. She felt a warmth, an almost sisterly feeling… yes, as though they were sisters.
But that didn’t exclude a sexual response; far from it. And she didn’t find the scar off-putting. She actually felt a warm glow of love (what other word was there?) for this scar, this “disfigurement”. Neither was it pity; not at all. It was very confusing for her, but somehow it was as if she thrilled with an overpowering desire for what she could only think of as the “reality” which this woman conveyed; so different from the “bimbo” model image which was so familiar.
All shyness gone, Helen stood up and slowly walked over to where Sandra stood. She knelt down, put her hands on her hips and licked from where the scar began at her hip to where it ended at her breast, licking slowly and methodically as though she were following the line of a map with her finger.
When she arrived at the top, she kissed her way down again. Gone was the urgency she had been mastered by when she had had sex with Joan and Abbie. This time, she didn’t want to rush at all. When she got down to Sandra’s hip again, she travelled round on her knees till she was behind her. She kissed gently over her bottom, then ran her tongue tip in the space between her cheeks; slowly and carefully down, from the top of her bottom (so to speak) to her perineum. Then she did it again.
Each time she licked, she went deeper. Sandra began to moan softly. Helen felt good that she, relatively inexperienced as she was, could have such an effect upon an experienced older woman, and so quickly, too. Now she began to pull gently on either side, opening Sandra up to her gentle probing, like a careful artist using the finest of brushes to obtain the effect she wished, or a skilled surgeon cutting with meticulous care to avoid leaving a visible scar.
Helen now stood up and, standing behind her, cupped her breasts in her hands. She gently kneaded them, then less gently tweaked her nipples. Helen started to lick her neck, from her ear to her shoulder and back again; suddenly she was seized with the desire to lick her everywhere, to make her whole body wet with her saliva.
She grabbed her hair quite fiercely and forced her tongue in her mouth, turning it round and round as if she were drilling for sex. She licked every inch of her face, till it glistened with saliva, almost as if Helen’s tongue were bathing her. Then she stopped.
“Watch this,” Helen whispered.
And she dribbled profusely on her neck. They both watched as a channel of saliva ran down slowly between Sandra’s breasts, then continued on its way over her navel and between her legs, like love’s thermometer boiling over with passion; finally it disappeared, absorbed into her thick pubic mound.
“I am going to fuck
you,” Helen said very slowly into her ear.
Then she manoeuvred her on to the sofa and lay on top of her while they snogged deeply and felt each other’s breasts. Sandra couldn’t contain herself any longer.
“I want to lick you… turn round.”
Helen turned on top of her so they were lying in the sixty-nine position. She had done this with lots of guys, and always enjoyed it immensely; this was her third experience with a woman and she knew what to do. She ran the tip of her tongue around Sandra’s outer lips, then pulled them gently apart, exposing her pink folded flesh. Her odour was clean but strong, and very arousing. She explored the soft pink flesh, then inserted two fingers into her vaginal opening. It dripped with her copious juices, like some starving woman’s mouth, only here the craving was for sex. She soon found Sandra’s tiny clit, almost hidden in the enveloping flesh.
She rotated her tongue tip around it, testing to see how sensitive it was. Sandra started to moan, so she made sure when touching the clit itself she was careful; but she needn’t have bothered. Sandra suddenly shouted, “Do it harder!”
Helen sucked her little clit into her mouth, using her lips and tongue and even (very carefully) her teeth. Sandra had a long intense orgasm, while Helen (who had been concentrating on giving head to Sandra) wasn’t there yet.
She had no problem having multiples, but she liked foreplay to last as long as possible. Sandra , who was still really excited, asked Helen if she liked food sex.
“What the hell is that?” she answered.
“I’ll show you,” Sandra replied, “You’re in for a treat.”
She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a selection of goodies. Next she wheeled out a huge free-standing mirror and placed it at the foot of the sofa.
“Watch this”, she said to Helen. Helen watched mesmerized as her hot partner knelt down and began to lick and finger her pussy while she watched in the mirror. Helen was soaking wet and nearing orgasm when Sandra pushed a thick chocolate bar into her vagina, while she continued to give her oral sex.
She was filled with lust as she watched her hole being penetrated in a way she had never experienced before. Looking in the mirror at what was happening was too much for Helen; she climaxed powerfully for a long time. Sandra asked her if she could come again.
“Oh yeah,” she said.
Sandra took out the chocolate bar, which by now was glistening with Helen’s juices and bit off a huge chunk. She chewed it then passed it to Helen mouth to mouth, while she fingered her clit with one hand and frigged her vagina with the other. For Helen, the combination of tastes in her tongue-filled mouth while she was pleasured by the other woman was overwhelming, and she soon had another couple of noisy orgasms.
The night lasted a long time. They made love twice more, and before they went to sleep in Sandra’s huge double bed, Sandra explained that there was a lot more she could show her; she just had to put herself in her hands.
“I’ve done that already!” Helen said.
And they both slept soundly. Helen looked forward to her next lesson…
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