Date: Mon, 19 Mar 2007 05:56:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: jane kelly <janek92006@yahoo.com>
Subject: Play 

Pamela, Kathy and Miss Richards

It was the time of year when the school seemed to go crazy, with
preparations for three big events: the school Sports Day, the school play
and the end-of-term picnic.  I was involved in all three.  Being quite tall
and muscular, I was naturally chosen for the throwing events: discus and
javelin.  I was also a member of the sixth form swimming relay team,
although with my rather heavy boobs, I was not as fast as some of the
girls.  As far as the school play was concerned, I was pushed into a role
that I could well have done without.  Miss Richards, in her wisdom, decided
that we should do Wuthering Heights, and then decided that I would make a
wonderful Heathcliffe!  Me with my 36D bra size!  Never mind, dear, she had
said, we can strap them down somehow.  The one bright spot in all this was
that I was playing opposite Kathy McKinnon, a fifth-year, who was a
sweet-faced plumpish little blonde with one of those cupid mouths that seem
as if they have been painted on as an afterthought.  I only knew her
slightly, of course, she being fifth year.  She played violin in the school
orchestra and I used to sit quite close to her in the woodwind section.
She always smiled sweetly at me, so I guess she sort of like me.

Anyway, the rehearsals started, and we all tried to learn our lines and our
places and our exits and entrances, and so on.  Miss Richards was a real
slave driver, one of those dedicated unmarried women teachers who make
school their whole life.  We were her "gels" - I was reminded of Jean
Brodie - and was forever telling us how good we were and how we could do
even better.  She drove me particularly hard, for some reason.

"Pamela, for goodness' sake!  You are supposed to be a man, and you sashay
around like Marilyn Monroe.  Now we all know that you've got a nice bottom,
but this is not the time or the place to wiggle it!"

"Sorry, Miss Richards!"

"All right, dear.  I suppose it is difficult for a gel as feminine as you
not to behave like a pretty young gel.  But do try to move a little more,
er, stiffly, you know, strut, the way a man would."

I wondered what she knew about men; probably very little if the rumours
about her were true.  The gossip was that she had had a torrid love affair
when she was younger with a librarian.  Nothing odd about that except that
the librarian was a woman.

"Sorry, Miss, I will try."

"Good.  Now, the rest of you gels can go.  Pamela, I want you and Kathy to
stay behind to rehearse one particularly difficult scene.  The one out on
the moor."



The other girls giggled.  They knew that this was the torrid love scene
between Heathcliffe and Cathy, where they end up in each other's arms,
kissing passionately.  The girls nudged each other as they looked at me and
at the plump blonde whom I was supposed to be passionately in love with.  I
looked at Kathy McKinnon and shrugged.  If I had to pretend to be a man and
kiss that cupid's bow of a mouth, then it was ok by me.  After all, what's
the big deal about kissing another girl on the mouth?  Secretly, I was
quite looking forward to it: I was curious to see what it was like, and if
it would be nice and tingly, or just a wet smack.

"Now, girls," the teacher began once we were seated in a circle, "I
appreciate that this is quite a delicate scene for you, which is why I want
to rehearse it separately with you.  After all, we do want to get it right,
don't we?  All right, then.  Take it from the point where Cathy is standing
against the crag and Heathcliffe enters stage left..."

Kathy and I took our places and made a good attempt at the strained
dialogue between the two star-crossed lovers.  When it came to the point
where I rushed forward, took Cathy in my arms and kissed her passionately,
I must admit I felt rather awkward.  I could feel that my acting was wooden
and my movements jerky and unconvincing.  As for the kiss itself, well, to
my surprise, Kathy just grabbed me tight, closed her eyes and parted her
lips, waiting for my mouth to come down on hers.  I felt really hot and
bothered as I felt her body against mine.  It was somehow exciting, if
unnatural, I thought, even though I was, for the purposes of the play, a
man and not a buxom seventeen-year old girl.

"Oh dear!"  said Miss Richards.  "You're not a very convincing lover,
Pamela.  You are in love with Cathy, and you kiss her as if she were an old
woman with bad breath!"

I looked towards her, still holding Kathy in my arms, conscious more than
ever of the pleasant sensation of her breasts pressing against mine.

"Look, dear, you sit down here, and I will try and show you how it's done.
A stage kiss is one of the most demanding simulations the theatre can ask
of an actor."

I sat down and the teacher went on the stage, striding purposefully towards
the hapless Kathy.

"Now, the trick, girls, is to give the appearance of a passionate kiss
without, of course, actually doing it.  First of all, Kathy, it was a nice
touch when you closed your eyes as Heathcliffe took you in his arms to kiss
you, but you certainly shouldn't part your lips the way you did.  Remember
this is simulated passion, not real passion.  Real passion between you two
girls might raise a few eyebrows!"

She giggled briefly, the got back to business again.  I wondered if the
rumours about her were true.

"Let me show you, Kathy.  Now, just relax, dear, I'm not going to eat
you!."

She giggled again.  I bet you'd like to, though, I thought as I watched her
move towards Kathy.  She held Kathy in her arms and brought her mouth to
within an inch of the girl's mouth.

"Now, dear, we kiss, but for heaven's sake, keep your mouth closed."

I watched as their embrace tightened.  The kiss was really convincing, long
and steamy.  It almost seemed a pity that they were holding their lips
tight together.  I noticed, though, that the teacher's hand was really low
down on Kathy's back, and she was holding the girl really hard against
herself.  I imagined the crushing of their breasts, and found myself
breathing a little quicker than before.  I realised that I was experiencing
a mild attack of envy.  I wanted to be the one to press Kathy's plump body
against my own.  I felt a tingling in my nipples which astonished me.

"That was very good, Kathy.  All right, Pamela, now, you try it."



I took Kathy in my arms, simulating the passion that Heathcliffe had for
his Cathy.  My Kathy looked at me, and our eyes were locked for just a few
moments too long.  I read in her eyes that she wanted me to kiss her, I
mean, she wanted me, Pamela, to kiss her, not me as Heathcliffe.  Our
breasts and bellies were crushed against each other and we were both
breathing heavily.  I felt a tingling now between my legs and a fluttering
in the pit of my stomach that signalled a growing sexual arousal.  I
brought my mouth down on Kathy's tenderly, and felt the trembling of her
lips as they met mine in a lovely kiss.  Her lips were moist and I could
not resist touching them tentatively with the tip of my tongue.  She clung
to me, desperate as I was for our bodies to stay close, and allowed me to
insinuate the tip of my tongue between her lips.  The kiss lasted only a
short time, but it was the most beautiful kiss I had ever experienced.  We
broke off, both panting hard as we tried to take stock of our mounting
excitement and desire for each other.

"Girls!  Girls!  That was a bit too convincing, if you know what I mean."

Her tone was serious, but not heavy.

"You, Pamela, well, you did it very well, but - I don't quite know how to
put this - you were Pamela Picton, not Heathcliffe!"

"I'm sorry, Miss, I don't understand..."

"Well, to put it bluntly, what I saw on stage was not Heathcliffe and
Catherine Earnshaw embracing, but Pamela Picton kissing Kathy McKinnon!"

I blushed to the roots of my hair.  I didn't know where to look.  Kathy was
even more embarrassed, and looked as if she were about to burst into tears.

"I ..  I ..  don't know what...."  I stammered, feeling confused and
stupid.  It was true that I had kissed Kathy, and I had not been
pretending.  And the teacher knew it....

"What I mean, girls, is that, while I don't mind if you have a crush on
each other, in fact I think it is quite sweet, you are both pretty girls -
"

She put her hands on her thighs.  Her palms were sweaty.

" - but we can't have you making love to each other in front of an audience
of parents, now, can we?"

She squeezed our thighs and smiled at us with a lasciviousness that was
unmistakeable.  Then she became businesslike again.

"Right ho, then.  Now, Kathy, you come and sit down.  Pamela, I will play
Kathy's role.  I want you to imagine that I am Catherine Earnshaw and you
are a hot-blooded man who is passionately in love with her.  But do
remember to simulate, child!  Now, come and grab me!"

I was taller than her, and I found it easy to dominate her physically.  I
put my arms round her waist and pulled her to me.  I lowered my face over
hers, and looked into her eyes with what I hoped would be mad passion.  She
met my gaze and I saw in her eyes a glittering look of helpless sexual
longing.  There was no doubt whatsoever now that she fancied me!  It was
very flattering.  After all, she was a mature woman of the world, and not a
bad looker either, and I was just a gawky schoolgirl.  I felt a sudden urge
to please her any way I could.

"Kiss me," she hissed, her voice a whisper that only I could hear.  "Kiss
me the way you kissed Kathy McKinnon."



As I lowered my mouth on to hers, my lips pressed together as previously
instructed, she raised her face to mine and parted her lips slightly in
anticipation.  I kissed her then, trying to simulate passion, but finding
it hard to keep the real passion at bay.  I automatically parted my lips
and began to respond to her kiss in a way that was unambiguously sexual.

To my amazement, she responded by pressing her groin against mine and
started to move against me in a brazenly sexual way.  She was really
turning herself - and me - on!  Her hand was on my neck so I couldn't break
off the kiss without pulling away sharply.  When we finally parted, we were
both completely breathless, our faces burning.  She turned on her heel and
strode away without a word, slamming the door shut behind her.  I turned to
Kathy.

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"Couldn't you see?"

"See what?"

"What she was doing!"

"Well, you both seemed to like it!"

"And you?" I said softly, coming to sit next to Kathy and taking her hand
in mine.

"What?"



"Did you like it when I kissed you, Kathy?"

She blushed and tried to pull her hand away, but I held it firmly.

"Did you, Kathy?  I know I did."

She looked at me briefly, a pleading look in her eyes, like the helpless
gaze of one who is trapped and knows it.

"I'd like to kiss you again, Kathy?  You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, Pamela!"



She threw herself on me and we kissed long and tenderly.  Already aroused
by my torrid encounter with our lesbian teacher, my body was on fire with
passion for this plump little blonde with her soft round breasts and her
lovely cupid's bow lips.  I could feel a tingling between my legs, a
delicious sort of quivering that I knew was my clitoris, for I had started
to masturbate a few months before after reading an article in "Seventeen"
about how important it is for girls to masturbate.  Our hot kiss made me
long to rub my clitoris with my finger, and I wondered fleetingly whether
Kathy had also learned to masturbate.  She was writhing in my arms and I
could feel that she too was getting very hot between the legs.  Her nipples
were standing out starkly now, and I could feel them brushing against my
own aroused cones as we rubbed against each other.  I pulled back from the
kiss and gently placed my hand on one of her breasts.  She stiffened, but
then relaxed again immediately.

"I love you, Pamela!"

"And I love you, Kathy.  I want to make love to you."

As I said it, I realised that I had no idea what I meant.  But for me it
was enough to think of us kissing and holding each other tight and
caressing each other's breasts.  How does one girl make love to another?  I
realised that I was very ignorant.  Perhaps there was a book on the subject
in the library......



Before we could break away, Miss Richards returned.  She must have seen my
hand on Kathy's breast, and could draw her own conclusions from our
dishevelled state and our heaving breasts as we struggles to get our breath
back after our passionate encounter.

"Well, girls, you certainly seem to be entering into the spirit of things!"
She did not sound shocked or angry at all!  "I think it's time we all had a
little chat.  Why don't the two of you come to my house this evening for
dinner, and we can get to know each other a little better."

Thus started for me a wonderful journey into the world of lesbian love, the
story of which I am happy to share with you, dear ladies.  So, undo your
blouses, unhook your bras, let your boobs go free, get your hand inside
your panties, find the spot, and get it on while you read what happened
next...





Come in, girls!  Everything is ready for you!"

Miss Richards was dressed in a pinafore dress with a shameless V-neck that
offered a breathtaking view of her ample cleavage.  It was clear that she
had no bra on, for the contours of her breasts and the buds of her large
nipples were clearly visible through the soft blue material.  As she turned
to lead us into her sitting room, I glanced appreciatively at the wiggle of
her plump buttocks, the bouncy movement exaggerated by the high heels she
was wearing.  I noted the visible panty line.  At least she's put her
knickers on, I thought.  Kathy and I were in our regulation school uniform
of white blouse with school tie, pleated blue skirt and calf-length white
socks.  What a contrast to our teacher's sinuous get-up.  It was only later
that I found out what a turn-on school uniforms are for older women: the
sight of a prim schoolgirl in her gymslip is enough to cause most matrons
to go moist between the legs!

Once we were in the sitting room, she turned and put her arms round our
waists.

"Now, I want you both to give me a nice kiss1"

She offered pouting lips to each of us in turn, and we obligingly kissed
her on the mouth.  Although there was none of the passion that we had
experienced earlier in the day, I immediately felt a tingling in my groin
at the idea of kissing her again.

"Mmm!  That was very sweet.  Now let me give you each a nice kiss!"

This time, the kisses were more lingering, lips moist and tasting sweet
from her lipstick.  All three of us were showing signs of heavy breathing.

"Well, kissing doesn't seem to be a problem for us, does it, girls?"

We both smiled weakly.

"Now, to complete the series, why don't the two of you kiss, while I go and
get some drinks?"



She pushed us towards each other, keeping her hands in the small of our
backs until Kathy and I were pressed together.  I shrugged, smiled at
Kathy, licked my lips suggestively and came down on her mouth, my lips
parted and my tongue ready for action.  Kathy, God bless her, responded
beautifully, sealing her lips on mine and tasting my tongue tentatively
with her own.  I felt Miss Richards' hand leave my back, but it did not
matter because Kathy and I were too intent now on pressing our breasts and
our bellies together as we sealed our passion in a deep French kiss.  I
slid my hand over her buttocks and pressed her mound against mine.  It felt
wonderful, and I began to get those shooting spasms in my clitoris that I
always get when I masturbate.  Only this was much better!

We broke off, breathless and redfaced, when Miss Richards came back with a
tray of drinks.  She put the tray down, invited us to sit on the long sofa,
and the turned to us, her face wearing a serious expression.

"Girls, I am so happy for you.  It is clear, is it not, that you are in
love with each other..."

She paused to let the awful words sink in.  Kathy looked down at her hands,
but I held the teacher's gaze: I was determined to see this through.

"Listen, girls, I do understand.  Believe me.  I have been in love as you
are.  It is wonderful, beautiful.  The love between two women is the most
beautiful love in the world.  But not everyone understands it.  All I want
to say is that, here, with me, you are free to express yourselves as you
wish.  But outside, you must be careful.  Don't show the least sign of your
feelings for each other, or the gossip will surely spread like wildfire.
Now, what would you like to drink?"

After that little speech, I think Kathy and I were gobsmacked, but, as the
alcohol suffused our veins, we relaxed and lost our inhibitions.  Poor
Kathy had too much and had to be put to bed.  I felt just a little tiddly,
but it was a nice feeling.  I looked at Miss Richards' cleavage and
suddenly had an overwhelming desire to see her boobs.  She caught me ogling
her bust and smiled.

"Am I very naughty?  Do you think this dress reveals a little too much of
my charms?"

"Not enough!" I replied, startled by boldness.

"Goodness gracious me, Pamela," she giggled, holding her hand against her
cleavage, "you are a naughty girl!"

"I just meant, Miss, that I think you have a beautiful figure..."

"Oh, do you really think so?  At my age, that is a real compliment!"

She unbuttoned the top button of her pinafore dress and smiled coyly at me.

"That's how I used to wear it when I was younger!"

I ogled the deepening cleavage and felt that electric surge in the pit of
my stomach that signalled my rising sexual excitement.

"Only one button, Miss?"

"You're wicked, you really are!" she giggled.  Coyly, she undid the second
button.  Now the ripe full curves of her breasts spread tantasingly from
the base of the cleavage.  She giggled again.

"More?"

"Mmm!  Yes please, Miss!"  I said, no longer caring what anyone thought of
my brazenness.

"Come and do it for me, darling," she said to me.



She thrust her chest out and held her arms back in a gesture of invitation.
Her bosom seemed enormous now.  Trembling I leant across and with fumbling
fingers undid the next button of her blue pinafore dress.  She put her
hands over mine suddenly and used them to claw apart the two folds of her
dress to reveal her gorgeous full breasts in all their glory.  I was amazed
by their heaviness and by the two dark circles of her aureoles from which
the twin cones of her erect nipples stood out as if begging to be touched.

"Touch them, darling.  Touch my breasts.  Don't be afraid now."  Her voice
was soft, pleading, seductive.

As I laid my hands on her breasts, I felt such a surge in my belly that I
just collapsed against her.  She cradled her head in her arms, holding it
tightly against her magnificent breasts, and uttered soothing words.

"It's all right, darling, it's all right.  I do understand.  I love you for
being so sensitive."

I was trembling now.  My body twitched occasionally as my clitoris went
repeatedly into spasm.  I was having a nonstop orgasm, just from touching
her breasts!  My first ever orgasm, as I later realised.  Aware of what was
happening, she stroked my hair affectionately.

"There, there, darling!  Just let it flow.  Isn't it the loveliest
feeling!"

Somehow, I don't know how, my mouth found those succulent nipples and I
began to suckle like a baby.  She put her hand under her breast and lifted
it to my mouth, a gesture which fired off another orgasmic surge in my
belly.

"That's right, sweetheart.  Suck!  Suck on Marian's lovely nipple!  Here,
here is my breast for you, darling!  Suck on it!!"

She had fallen back on the settee and pulled me on top of her.  I was aware
of her leg between my thighs, and the pressure of her knee on my pussy was
fantastic.  The, she pulled me up to her, sliding my burning pussy along
her thigh as our mouths met in a long wet kiss.  I was completely gone now,
overwhelmed by the sensation of her sensual mouth and her pneumatic breasts
against my chest and the hardness and heat of out two pussies grinding
against each other.  If this was lesbianism, I wanted more of it!

"Darling, I don't want your school uniform to get creased." she whispered
in my ear.



Skilfully, disturbing our love position as little as possible, she removed
my shirt and tie and my pleated blue skirt, leaving me only in bra and
school knickers.  She looked into my eyes questioningly, and I nodded
agreement to what she wanted to do.  Lovingly she removed my bra and my
panties, although, for some reason, left my socks and shoes on.  Then -
glorious! - she undid the rest of the buttons on her pinafore dress and let
the folds fall back to reveal the glory of her bosom, the swell of her
abdomen and, clearly visible under her flimsy panties, the tangled thatch
of her pubes.  Again she looked questioningly at me, and I returned her
frank gaze with another slight nod of the head.  As I watched her pulling
her knickers over her feet and kicking them away, I knew that for me the
object of my sexual desire would always be the body of a well-stacked
woman.  She held me at arm's length for a moment to allow me to take in her
nakedness.

"It's all right to look, darling!" she said softly.

She parted her thighs to give me a tantalising glimpse of the dark folds of
her fleshy labia beneath the bush of her matted pubic hair, and just a hint
of the pink gash between.  It was the first time I had seen a woman's
vagina, so different from the hairless little pussies I was used to seeing
in the gym changing rooms or the showers.  It seemed somehow more
mysterious, menacing even.

"Do you like my pussy, Pamela?"

"Y-yes, Miss.  I think so, Miss," I said, stumbling over the words.

She uttered a little friendly laugh.

"And I like yours, Pamela.  May I look at it?  May I touch it?"





As our passion slowly gave way to a wonderful afterglow, I longed for her
to caress me intimately, doing to me what I furtively did to myself at
night, my fingers exploring the mysterious creases of my vulva, seeking out
the thrilling little knob of flesh that I had learned about from that
magazine, my clitoris.  And she did, expertly, lovingly, gently,
persistently.  Her fingers explored me so delicately that I almost cried
out in gratitude for what she was making me feel.  It all seemed so
natural, so wonderfully normal, so right that she should be touching me in
this intimate way, in my most intimate and secret places.  I counted myself
a lucky girl to be so privileged, privileged to lie naked with a beautiful
woman and to be caressed so lovingly by her.  My body was in a state of
glowing sustained orgasm, not dramatic, not earthshattering, but steadily
building up inside me, each surge building on the other like waves
accumulating in power and intensity as they crash on the shore.  I became
aware of her finger inside me now, probing the depths of my vagina and
working in and out rhythmically as if she were withdrawing it each time the
better to thrust it deep into me again.  By some skill that I did not
understand, her thumb continued to pay attention to my throbbing clitty,
until, under this merciless onslaught, I surrendered completely to the
impulse to scream, to groan, to moan, to thrash about as I worked myself on
her fingers to a climax of stupendous proportions.  She held me tight
against her naked body as she felt my body jerking and juddering out of
control from the sheer power of the orgasmic surges that she had induced in
me.

"You are so wonderful, Pamela!  So wonderfully responsive!  Do you like
what you are feeling?"

"Oh yes, Miss!!  It's ... it's ... aahh.......!!"



Another wave swept over me as she continued to insinuate her fingers inside
my pussy.  I could hear squelching noises.  My cunny was wetter than it had
ever been in my whole life.  How had she been able to do that to me?  She
was wonderful, and I felt a great surge of love for her.  I gripped her
ferociously, desperate to seal our two naked bodies together so that they
would never be separate again.  My breasts, big as they were for my age,
seemed like peaches against her wonderful pendulous fruits.  My belly, flat
in comparison to her sexy embonpoint, strained to be against hers.  Most
wonderful of all was the feeling of her heat against mine as we intertwined
our legs and strained to put our pussies together.  I longed to feel her
clitoris against mine, but had no idea how that could be achieved.  I was
soon to find out.....

I knew her first name was Marian, but had not the courage to call her
anything but Miss Richards.  It seemed odd to be saying "Yes, Miss", "No,
Miss" to a woman with whom I was having the most intimate kind of sex!
Fortunately, she solved the problem for me as we lay in each other's arms,
exhausted after our torrid lovemaking.

"Pamela darling, don't you think it's time you called me by my first name?"

"I'd like that very much, Miss."

"Do you know what my first name is?"

"Yes, Miss.  It's Marian, Miss."

"Yes.  Please call me Marian when we are alone, Pamela."

"Yes, Mi..., Marian."

"Well, sweetheart, what do you think of love between women?"

"It's wonderful, Mi.., It's wonderful, Marian.  I had no idea it was
possible to feel such wonderful ...

"I know, darling.  We are very lucky to have found each other.  I think I
could easily fall in love with you.  So young, so pretty, so responsive..."

"Miss?  I mean, Marian, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, darling, of course."

"Have you..  I mean you must have ..you know, I mean, loved a woman
before?"

She was silent for a moment.  Then..



"Yes, sweetheart, I was once very much in love."

"What was she like?"

"Oh, beautiful, sensitive, sexy.  You remind me of her."

I felt gratified by this remark, and snuggled up to my woman lover, letting
her breasts press into mine.

"What happened?  Did she...?"

"She died."

Tears filled my eyes.

"I am so sorry, Miss.  Marian."

"Thank you, darling.  It was a long time ago.  I have not made love to
another woman since.  Until tonight."

She ran her fingers lovingly through my hair, those wonderful fingers that
had brought me so much pleasure.  I could smell the acrid aroma of my
wetness on her fingers.  I was curious.  Was it a nice smell or a nasty
smell?  As if reading my thoughts, she drew her hand from my hair.

"Perhaps I should go and wash my hands, darling."

"Oh no, please don't!  I like the erm the way they erm you know like smell
of me..."

She hugged me enthusiastically.

"Oh darling, you really are wonderful!  I love that smell too.  I love the
smell of pussy!!  Am I very naughty to use such a word?"

"I think it is a beautiful word, Marian."

"A beautiful word for a beautiful object.  You have the prettiest pussy, my
little love.  A pretty, wonderful, responsive, sexy pussy!!  And I love the
moistness and the warmth of your lovely pussy.!!"

The constant repeating of the word seemed to be turning her on again.  I
thought of her pussy, so dark, so mysterious, so ample in comparison to my
pubertal cunny.  I could imagine getting lost inside it!  She started to
grind against me again.



"Oh God, I need you!"  she said, her voice hoarse with passion.  Somehow we
rolled off the settee and on to the floor, where we writhed like two wild
animals, our arms and legs intertwined and our bushy mounds grinding
together in a way that started the thrills in my pussy all over again.
Marian manoeuvred until she had me on my back with our legs crisscrossed.
She squatted on her knees and lifted my upper leg, pulling me towards her
until our pussies came together in a crisscross kiss.  I lay back and
closed my eyes as I felt the heat and wetness of her vulva mingling with my
own.  She was making little thrusting movements with her groin, rubbing her
own pussy against mine, shifting and wriggling until our the lips of two
vulvas sealed in a kiss as passionate as any between our two mouths.  My
clitoris felt as if it was on fire, and I suddenly realised that the
hardness I could feel against it was Marian's clitoris!  She had manoeuvred
in such a way that she could masturbate my clitty by rubbing it with her
own!  And the more she roused me, the more she roused herself.  It was the
perfect union between two females, as each used her most sensitive spot
both to give and to receive pleasure.  And what pleasure!  I do not know
why, but the frotting of your clitty by another woman's clitty produces
waves of ecstasy that can never be matched by a probing finger or a
flicking tongue, no matter how skilfully manipulated.  The union between
our two throbbing vulvas was finally sealed hermetically as our lovejuices,
pouring copiously from our hyperexcited cunnies, mingled and formed the
perfect bonding.



Once two women get their clitorises together like this, they can, as I
found out that night, go on and on for hours, giving the most exquisite
sexual pleasure to each other.  Marian was indefatigable.  Just as she
seemed to be slowing down - and it was even more wonderful when she frotted
us slowly - she would suddenly feel the urge to rub against me more
violently again, bringing herself and me to new peaks of ecstasy.  I
thought I was going to die.  The pleasure was so intense, that relentless
frotting of her clitoris against mine, that it became almost painful.  And
yet I didn't want her to stop.  I wanted her never to stop.  I wanted to
die at the height of the sexual frenzy that she had induced in me.  I truly
loved this wonderful woman that was doing such wonderful things to me.
Finally, after what seemed like several hours, my beloved began to tire,
her legs getting stiff from squatting.  She stretched out beside me and
stroked my hair lovingly, while I used my hands on her, caressing every
inch of her, from her slender neck and her lovely breasts to the lovely
silkiness of her inner thighs.  I found myself drawn back to the hot wet
cavern between her legs, that moist mystery of lips and creases that had
given me so much pleasure.  She eased her thighs apart to accommodate me.

"That's so sweet of you, darling!  I'm afraid I am terribly wet.  See what
you do to me!"

"I love your wetness, Marian!  I love everything about you!  Oh, Marian!"

I felt another surge rising within me as my fingers found her gaping pussy.
That she was ample was undoubted.  My fingers felt totally inadequate to
caress such a gaping vulva, and I had the crazy idea of putting all my
fingers inside her.  I slid my fingertips over her clitoris, which caused
her to shudder violently.

"Not there, darling!  I think I would explode if you touched my clitty
again!"

"Sorry, Mi..Marian."

I ran my fingertips along the inside walls of her labia, marvelling at
their silkiness, and marvelling too at how cool they felt in contrast to
the heat that her vagina was generating.  Experimentally, I inserted my
finger into her.  She was hot and wet, very wet.  She moaned and closed her
thighs gently over my hand.

"More, darling!  Do it some more!  Touch me!!"

I pushed my finger in as far as it would go, not sure what to do next.  I
realised that its penetration was hampered by the knuckles of my other
fingers.  I slid a second and a third finger into her, expecting her at any
moment to push my hand away indignantly.  Instead, she moaned and writhed
more than ever.

"Oh, that's beautiful, Pamela.  Please put your hand inside me if you want
to.  I should like that very much!"

I straightened my fingers and bunched them together and slid them back into
her capacious vagina.  She had no difficulty in taking them.  Remembering
how she had touched me up, I began to slide my fingers in and out of her,
at first slowly, but then faster as her breathing got faster and her
writhing became more frantic.  Juices poured out of her in an incredible
hot stream, like lava flowing from the mouth of a volcano.  I became aware
of the womanly smell of her, an earthy aroma that reminded me of tuna fish
or mushrooms.  It was strong, it stung my nostrils, it was no perfume or
scent.  This was the basic smell of a woman, the honest aroma of a female
on heat.  I loved it.  I inhaled deeply to take in the odour of her cunt.
It pervaded the whole room, making me dizzy.  I remembered her earlier
incantation.

"I love pussy, Marian, and I love your pussy.  I really love your pussy.
It's so silky and hot and wet.  I love it!!"

"Thank you, darling," she said, her voice hoarse with passion.  "Can you
smell it?"

"Oh yes, Marian!  It is the most beautiful smell.  It is the smell of you,
of your womanliness."

"You are so right, Pamela.  That is the authentic smell of pussy.  I love
that smell too."

"So do I."

"Why don't you get a little closer to it, darling?  If you'd like to, that
is."

I wasn't sure what she meant.  She sensed my confusion.

"Let me show you, darling.  I am going to give you the most intimate kiss
possible.  But you must tell me to stop if you don't like it."



Before I had begun to register what she was talking about, she had rolled
me over on to my back, splayed my legs wide open and buried her head in my
groin.  I felt her lips on my cuntlips and her tongue slithering into my
pussy.  She was kissing my cunt exactly the way she kissed me on the mouth!
It was exquisite, and I just went out of my mind as the sensations
overwhelmed me.  Finally, after eating my pussy for about fifteen minutes,
during which we were both moaning like souls in torment, she came up for
air.  Her face was smeared with my wetness, and in her dishevelled state
she looked suddenly tarty, like some Soho hooker whose had a hard night.

"That's what I meant by getting a little closer to it, darling.  Did you
hate it very much?"

"Oh no!  It was...it was....fantastic!  I never dreamed...."

"Why don't you kiss me like that, darling?"



She rolled over on to her back and offered herself to me.  Before I dived,
I looked down at her gaping vulva.  It was menacing in its hugeness,
glistening and steaming darkly like some monster emerging from the sea to
gobble up everything in its path.  And now it was going to gobble me up, I
thought.  As I lowered my face into her crutch, the smell of her wafted
into my nostrils.  She really was strong-smelling.  I gagged momentarily,
but realised there was no turning back.  I took a deep breath and plunged
into the dark sea.  Despite the strong smell, her cuntjuices tasted really
nice, and I found myself lapping them up like a cat, spreading my lips over
her cunt and lapping the juices with my tongue.  The effect on Marian was
immediate and dramatic.  She arched her back, lifting her buttocks clear of
the floor and thrust against my mouth as if she wanted to get me inside
her.  She held my head down almost viciously against her fanny, as if she
had decided not to let me go until I had licked every last drop from her
copiously flowing cunt.  I gasped for breath.

"Sorry, darling!" she said, relaxing her grip on my head a little, "I got
carried away.  It's your fault, darling, you shouldn't be so good at it!
God, I love the way you flick your tongue in and out of my pussy!!  Am I
very wet for you, dearest?"

"Wonderfully wet for me, Marian." I mumbled as I continued to eat her out.



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