Not only does time heal all wounds so I could put most of my past behind me, I was becoming more comfortable with Catherine and she was always so anxious to please me. Now there were no more men in my life for the time being I was free to spend more time with her. It was partly because being a stranger in that part of the city I didn't have many friends to speak of, other than my colleagues from work, and the fact I liked the way she made me feel like a queen.

We began having me frequent more upscale places with her, not that I really minded although at first I felt a little intimidated, but soon got used to it. I started paying more attention to how others dressed and carried themselves. I loved the comparative luxury I enjoyed with her.

Still on occasion I liked to visit my old haunts and would have her drive me there, and having her take us for a drink in some pretty crummy bars. I could see she wasn't too comfortable in some places; she hated the crude language you would sometimes hear there. She never complained, always tried to put on a brave face and pretend she was enjoying herself. I knew she was doing it for me, it was just I could read her discomfort in her body English. I was starting to exert myself with her in little ways as I became more and more familiar with her. In her own way she had me hooked, although I don't think she realized it but as I got to know her tastes, I would suggest going to clubs, movies etc. that I knew she liked as well.

The weird shifts I worked as a waitress made it awkward to find the time to go shopping, but when we did on occasion I started taking her by the arm, not that meant anything to strangers, as far as they were concerned we could have been just mother and daughter out together. I had Wednesday afternoon and all day Sunday off, but other than that my days were chopped up by the staggered hours of work, although the latest I worked was 6 PM and 8 PM every other day.

Saturday and Sunday nights were the most pleasurable for us, I loved exploring her body making her squirm and squeal with delight learning how to take her to a plateau almost at the peak of sensuality and hold her there for a time before giving her the release her body craved for. To make her wait for her orgasms then give her two three sometimes more in a row. I would be rough with her very tender depending on my mood, she just loved it all, never complaining and always thanking me afterwards.

She could give as good as she got too, giving me many exquisite orgasms. I became particularly fond of cunnilingus, both giving and receiving. In those days we had full body hair in both arm pits and pussy, there was no such thing as trimming or shaving that I was aware of at that time that would come later. And I firmly believe the hair holds the scent when one was aroused adding to the joy of love making.

Sunday mornings she made us our toast, jam and tea that we shared, usually followed by more copulation unless Mother Nature interfered. We would enjoy a leisurely hot bath afterwards where Catherine liked to bathe me; we would take our time and chat too. She certainly loved to mother me, and after I would be treated to a nice sensual massage.

After a few weeks she had washed my hair, and after I was sitting at her dressing table as she was brushing and drying it when I commented on its length. It was down past my shoulders and pretty straight as was my style at the time. Now I'd never been to a hairdresser as my mother or aunt would usually cut my hair when I was at home, and asked Catherine if she would cut it for me.

She was horrified at this saying, "Oh no, you must go to a hairdressers for that" and insisted on making an appointment for me.

She made it for the following Wednesday afternoon, and after lunch she was there to take me to the hairdressers. We got there a little before my time so I had time to sit and look at pictures of different styles, then when it was my turn the stylist and I discussed them and agreed on a style that was something new to me.

In a way I was like a kid in a candy shop thrilled to be getting what I thought was something special.

While I was being worked on I looked at Catherine who was sitting with legs and feet together with her hands clasped on her lap. Her hair was parted in the middle and held in place with hairpins, kind of plastered over her head, and seeing her like that I though it wouldn't hurt for her to have a new hairdo as well. I looked at her face and thought of the pictures of the different styles I'd seen. When the hairdresser was finished with me and I saw the result in a mirror I was taken aback, I looked wonderful I thought, so different from how I'd looked before I was thrilled to bits. Before we left I suggested to Catherine she should make an appointment to have her hair done.

She protested saying she didn't need it, but I told her she made me do it, she was going to do it. I made an appointment for her the following Friday afternoon, and I showed the stylist the style I wanted her to put on Catherine. Then she could come to the restaurant and have supper before picking me up from work.

She showed up around 5 PM which was quite a busy time for the restaurant, and when she showed up I was shocked at the difference the hairdo made to her appearance, she looked at least 10 years younger, the only thing that might have belied her age was the old style clothes she wore. I made a point of greeting her and making pretence of not recognizing her as I showed her to a table, and once she was seated handed her a menu. I spoke in a loud voice as I made my recommendations of what I thought she might like, referring to her as "Madame." I swear she blushed three shades of crimson, but could see she was flattered with my teasing her.

Because we were both relative strangers in the city and before we met Catherine hadn't gone out to bars for a drink. Ladies from her class didn't frequent pubs in those days like they do now. If they went out they would only go into lounge bars, usually when they had a date. So going out after my work was something new to her in a way, and when we went to the more upscale places, that were something she liked. I tended to frequent bars I had become familiar with; whereas she would suggest somewhere different each night we went for a drink.

One of the places we discovered was very plush, nice paintings decorated the walls with rather fancy curtains on the windows, and with nice upholstered chairs and sofas, scattered around the room at various sized tables. The bar also had a number of matching stools in front of it. One thing we noticed when we first went in there for a drink was how friendly everyone was, making us feel welcome.

At first I had a habit of looking around at some of the other people to see if there was anyone I knew. They certainly looked like a sophisticated lot, the men in suits and ties, and ladies in nice dresses. The gentlemen wore the old style trilby hats, what I took to be a choice of the upper classes. I was used to seeing men in flat peaked caps or bonnets, the head dress of the working class. Some of the ladies wore hats, and even light leather gloves and used cigarette holders when they smoked, in a way I found it rather amusing watching them.

In a way it was puzzling at first, by this time Catherine had taken me to a few very nice lounges before, but this one seemed more opulent than any I'd been in so far. As I said everyone seemed so friendly, particularly the staff who were exceptionally polite. As this was the first time for us, I noticed quite a few people looking at us, I assumed as we were strangers to them, and when we made eye contact they would give a smile of acknowledgement. Of course I was used to this from men but even ladies would give us the once over so to speak.

Then I started noticing other peculiarity's, ladies holding hands, meeting other women friends by giving them a quick kiss on the lips. Even some men would touch others on the hand as if making a point in their conversation, something men don't normally do. We had about three drinks during this time and I looked at Catherine and she seemed to be particularly pleased for some reason, then it hit me, we were in a gay bar. She had experience being in places like this before and of course read the signs, subtle as they were in those days.

Not like today where gay bars and clubs as more acceptable, back in those days they had to be careful so as not to attract undesirables, as all gay people were very much in the closet. Straight people would also drop in for a drink, which is why the regular patrons were very careful on how they would contact other like minded people. My first reaction was to leave, but as I said I looked over at Catherine and saw she was relaxed and enjoying herself. My curiosity got the better of me and we stayed till it was time for the bar to close, then we had to leave.

After that night we started dropping in there more often, and as happens when you start becoming a regular, you start to meet others. People were still very wary of whom we were, and of course we were concerned about those we met. After all being queer in those days was not something you advertised, not like it is today. I also felt more comfortable as there was quite a mix of personalities and ages.

Saturday nights was the best when we could dance together; there were the normal ballroom settings of dim lights and romantic music, as well as a sprinkling of fast to jive to. The bar was open to midnight under a club license, and the dances ended at 1.00 AM. It was also a time when I would wear my nicer dresses rather that the skirt and blouses I was used to wearing during the week at work.

Catherine had quite a wardrobe although her styles were rather old fashioned, still with her new hairdo and the nice jewellery she had she could turn quite a few heads. Figuratively speaking as the saying goes, it was somewhere we could let our hair down and enjoy ourselves amongst like minded ladies. We also found out about a couple of other lesbian bars in the city which was nice, as it gave us a choice when we wanted to go out just for a drink, particularly during the week.

I was soon more than comfortable with Catherine, and happy to be with her as often as reasonable, although my staggered working hours was a bit of a nuisance when it came to our social life. We were going shopping together more often, and I got her to purchase more modern styles of clothing, particularly garter belts to replace those ugly rubber bands she'd used to hold up her nylons, waist cinchers to replace the Basques and girdles she was used to wearing. Although as I said she was a little on the plump side, she started to look more fashionable. Not only that but she admitted to feeling more attractive when we did go out together.

I was now quite comfortable taking her arm in public, no one seemed at all concerned which was good for her feelings too.

She never failed to excite me in the privacy of her home either, she doted on me every chance she got which was wonderful for my ego. She introduced me to the dildo's she had, a strap-on with a black rubber dong that was common in those days. Also a couple of phalluses made from African Black wood that had been carved to look like real cocks, and highly polished. They were 'implements,' (as 'toys' were referred to in those days) she had brought from Africa, screwed onto a base so they could be displayed on her mantle shelf.

One weekend she had to go to Edinburgh to visit her family for some reason, leaving me alone on the Saturday night for the first time since I'd dumped Robert. It felt strange making me realise how attached I'd become to her, still it also gave me an opportunity to go dancing and meet some men again. While we had often entertained each other with the dildos, I thought I would take to opportunity to feel a real cock for a change.

I decided to go to one of the smaller gay bars for a drink before going on to the dance hall, it was a small very plush place attached to one of the better Hotels in the city that we'd gotten used to visiting. Once there, I was conscious of others looking at me as I made my way to the bar and ordered my drink. I sipped it and listened to the usual hub bub of talk, and noticed a few others were looking my way, and was enjoying it then after a while a voice said, “hello, on your own tonight are you?"

I looked round and there was this lady who I'd seen there on occasion before, and being polite responded affirming her question. Although I'd seen her a few times before she was not a regular patron, and was usually in the company of one lady in particular. Looking over her shoulder past her I noticed her partner sitting at a small table and looking my way smiling. This lady went on, "I'm Ruth by the way and you're welcome to join us for a drink if you like."

I hesitated for a few moments before deciding to take her up on her offer, and then moved over to join them at their table. Once there Ruth held a chair out for me and I sat down, her partner looked at me smiling and holding out her hand introduced herself, "Marlene."

Taking her hand I replied in kind, "Mairi" and looked into the most beautiful blue eyes I'd seen on anyone in a long time. She was in her 50's and modestly dressed, with grey brown hair to the nape of her neck, with a face I'd describe as handsome rather than pretty, today she'd most likely be called a 'soft butch.' Still, she was not unattractive looking, and as we were in a gay bar I assumed she was a lesbian and Ruth and she were lovers.

She asked where my companion was, and I told her she had to visit family. We spent a pleasant hour or so chatting as she seemed curious to know more about me, and I didn't mind really. She told me she was a school teacher, a Vice Principle in fact and for some reason that kind of surprised me. When I was in school I hated teachers, they were always so demanding, in fact in those days I hated any kind of authority, I was a bit of a loner, a rebel and I never had a problem with my exams. Learning seemed to come naturally to me and it seemed they would get upset as a result. I suppose they expected me to fail, but I always managed to pass any tests that were given to me.

I often skipped school that would bring the truant officers after me, and at one time I thought I was going to be sent to a reform school for 'delinquent girls, ' but my Aunt had a lot to do with my being given a so called 'last chance.'

As I said before, when I met someone for the first time I tended to keep my mouth shut and my ears open, so here this lady supposedly want to meet me. I felt sure it was because I was there without my Catherine that had prompted her to contact me through her partner. She was quite friendly and chatty in a way, she did most of the talking, and I noticed Ruth addressed her as 'Mam', or so it sounded. At first I thought she had said, 'Mar', as short for Marlene, but later I noticed it definitely sounded like 'Mam,' Not only that but a couple of other ladies addressed her as 'Mam,' so it was obviously something she was used to. It never occurred to me at the time that she was being addressed as 'Ma'am,' short for 'Madame.'

I finally excused myself and thanking her for the drinks, left to go to the dance hall. Being a Saturday night the hall was packed as usual and it wasn't long before I had men asking me to dance. No doubt my new hairdo was making me look a lot more attractive, so I was kept quite busy dancing, at least for the first few dances till I finally had to refuse some.

Funny thing was, although I went there with the idea of possibly having sex with a man, I found I was not that particularly interested anymore, and missed my Catherine. I was studying the women, noticing what they wore, there make-up and hairstyles, noting what I thought was tasteful and what was 'tacky,' (for lack of a better description) thinking just a few months before I would have been one of the 'tacky' dresser, but now felt actually quite attractive in a more acceptable way with the more refined people.

I finally left alone and walked home to my room, where I undressed completely and got into bed. I curled up with my hand over my vulva, and thinking of the events that had transpired in the last few weeks, realized how much I missed my lover. My memories and thoughts excited me, and the hand covering my vagina took care of my needs for the night.

In the morning I had my pee then made myself some tea, and returned to bed where I stayed till lunch time. The need to eat forced me to get dressed, and I went out to a fish and chip shop for lunch, how different from when Catherine took me out for lunch to nicer places. I returned quickly to my room and sat by my window so I could look out at the street as I waited for her to return from her trip. Then around 4 PM I was rewarded when I heard a car, and looking out saw it was her car and my heart leapt with joy.

It was all I could do not to rush out to greet her and waited till I heard her knock on my door, and I called out, "Who is it?"

"Catherine," she replied.

Unable to wait any longer, I opened the door and she rushed into my arms. We kissed, long drawn out French kisses, our tongues hungrily probing each other’s mouths, hands caressing each other’s backs and hips. She was in a two piece suit, on the way to my bed I got her jacket off and unzipped her skirt and she stepped out of it falling backwards on the bed. She lay there for a moment in her underwear, those ugly cotton bloomers and ankle boots she had on suddenly looked very erotic as I quickly peeled off my own dress, bra and knickers before diving on top of her to love her.

And love her I did, like a wild animal as I ravaged her, I felt her cunt through her bloomers, the crotch soaking wet from her juices as she had obviously missed me as much as I'd missed her. I spoke dirty to her, calling her a bitch and a whore for making me love her like I did. I pressed my pussy to hers and humped her through her bloomers smothering her cries of pleasure with my mouth as I did till my orgasm joined hers with such force in made us both cry out and shudder.

We rested for a few moments then she started to caress my tits to make love to me, I stopped her pushing her hands way and stepping off the bed for a moment, pulled her bloomers down past her knees to expose her pussy.

She was whimpering calling my name and telling me how much she loved me, her pussy was open and wet, shining like a flower after a rain. It was mine to do with as I wanted, I knelt down and began to lick her, and she was so wet it tasted delicious. I sucked on her clit to her moans, writhing in the pleasure I was inducing in her. She was stuffing her fist in her mouth in an attempt to stifle her cries of pleasure; I couldn't have cared less if she had disturbed the whole neighbourhood.

Finally exhausted I fell back beside her, now she could do what she wanted to me, she didn't disappoint me, down on me like a flash her tongue lapping at my cunt and it was only seconds before I let out a cry as I experienced my first oral orgasm, to be followed by a couple more before we both rested.

We must have been a pretty sight laying there, me in my garter belt and stockings and Catherine still in her blouse and bra, and exposed from her waist to her stocking tops which were wrapped around her rubber garters. I sat up and looking at the bumps created by them asked her why she wasn't wearing the pretty underwear she had bought before.

I pulled her bloomers off her altogether and threw them on the floor saying something like, "Leave them there I will use them for cleaning rags." There was a look of shock on her face but she didn't argue, and once we were dressed left for a restaurant to have supper.

During supper I told her about the women I'd met the night before, and I saw the concern on her face, almost as if she was going to panic.

"You're not going to leave me?" she said, a worried look on her face, and before I could reply went on, "I love you and if I don't please you must tell me, I'll do anything you want to please you, you can do whatever you want with and to me dear."

Although she was speaking in a hushed voice I sensed other people were looking at us, instead of being embarrassed by what she was saying I felt elated. I think this was when I began to realize the hold or power I had over this woman, how she was devoted to me, worshipped me. "Quiet," I said, looking at her and seeing the tears in her eyes, "I'm not going to leave you, at least not yet." I added, "Now let’s go."

There was silence in the car as she drove us to her house, and once inside she rushed to get the fire going. Thinking about our relationship I now began to see it in a new light, to say I was thrilled would be an understatement, the bully in me was starting to manifest itself. Looking at her on impulse I said, "Take your clothes off," and without hesitation she stripped down to her stockings and boots.

I looked at her, she was beautiful, yes on the plump side but in proportion I thought, her tits hung down not too bad I thought for her age, the aureoles and nipples seemed to be darker, the whiteness of her skin making them seem more prominent. She had what I suppose some would call generous hips, well rounded and in proportion, the thick dark pussy hair a startling contrast again to the whiteness of her skin.

She seemed a little scared I suppose, I was amused by this in a way, feeling the power I had over her now she had confessed to how much she loved me, how she was willing to do 'anything' to please me, time would tell I supposed.