Date: Mon, 20 Dec 2004 19:55:07 -0000
From: Carolyn and Leigh <carolynandleigh@dial.pipex.com>
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.