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By *est-couple OP Man
over a year ago
Southwick (near Trowbridge) |
It is a terrible thing to feel unloved, unwanted and ugly. This is how I felt at one point in my late twenties when a boyfriend was horribly cruel to me for the last part of our relationship, and kept insisting that I was frigid and unresponsive. Looking back, I realise that the problem was that I just wasn’t turned on by his clumsy fumbling, and that I really should have considered him in the light of the men I had known intimately both before that awful relationship. He was horrible about my body, and that had caused me to cover up far more than I had done in the past: I was just ashamed of myself. He had, in a way, actually made me frigid.
Talking to an old friend, Jeanette, over a tearful bottle of wine, I was advised by her to find comfort in the arms of another woman. I was shocked. Here was a married friend, whom I had known for years, encouraging me to become a lesbian. Jeanette laughed. She said she had always had bisexual leanings, and that allowing them release had actually saved her marriage. She said it might help me find another man – and, if I didn’t, then at least I would have had some form of sexy fun in the meantime. I told her I didn’t have bisexual leanings. She smiled; ‘You never know until you try’, she intimated. Of course, I didn’t know how to go about it. Jeanette winked, and said she would ask a friend to ask a friend, having taken a quick photo of me with her camera. I was told to wait for a text, which she sent me two days later. An hour later, I was on my way to a lesbian blind date.
I rang the bell at what turned out to be a very ordinary house in a very ordinary and respectable residential quarter of a local city, and was greeted by Marie, a pleasant young brunette slightly older than me, who invited me into her living room and sat me in a large and rather wide brown reclining chair. The atmosphere was comfortable, the room warm and softly lit, and some quiet music was playing quietly in the background. There was a hint of jasmine, geranium and ylang ylang in the air from a vaporiser on a table. I explained my predicament, and told her candidly about the boyfriend situation. She told me that I needed to relax – and that she was going to seduce me.
The chair was eased back and the music turned slightly up, as she bade me relax and control my breathing in conjunction with the beat of the classical piece which was clearly on a loop. I will admit that I did feel relaxed, and closed my eyes as her quiet voice told me that I had a right to pleasure and respect, that I was sexy, that I was beautiful even with my imperfections. My mind moved along the path that Marie was carefully laying out for it, and I became compliant as well as calm, trusting her to lead me to a love of myself once again. She began to talk about the pleasure of a woman’s body, the intimacy that only a woman could have with another woman, because only a woman knows how a woman’s body, and a woman’s desire, work. I became aware of a growing moistness in my pussy, and of the hot wetness of the gusset of my knickers.
Quietly, Marie commented:
‘You are aroused now, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am’
‘Does it worry you?’
‘Yes’, I said quietly.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t deserve such pleasure, don’t see myself as beautiful. I don’t even know if this is right for me.’ I almost sobbed.
‘Do you trust me?
‘Yes’, I breathed, in anticipation.
‘Keep your eyes closed’, she instructed me. I did, willingly, not yet wanting to contemplate what I was doing to my identity and all that I had ever believed about my hitherto stable heterosexuality.
I felt Marie’s fingers move to the front of my light denim dress, and once the long line of brass buttons had been undone from my breastbone to my knee. I raised my back so that Marie could slip the dress from my shoulders, leaving me clad only in my functional M&S knickers and bra. This was the first time she had actually touched me. My dress was removed from beneath me, and I felt the rough caress of the chair fabric on my naked back, arms and legs.
‘How do you feel?, she asked.
‘Comfortable, I replied’. ‘Good’, she said, ‘I’m assuming that you don’t want me to stop? Taking my trembling silence for assent, Marie continued her sapphic ministrations. Her hands reached behind my back and unclipped my bra, which she expertly slipped from my shoulders, and removed. My knickers were quickly discarded, her hands gently skinning them down over my thighs.
I was now naked on the chair, my juices soaking from my aroused pussy and forming a soaking patch on the dark cloth. My eyes were still closed, but I could feel just how far that slick patch of womanly juices extended, my bottom feeling the tide of my lust as it soaked the cloth of the chair.
‘How do you feel now?’, she asked
‘Exposed, very naked’
‘Are you desirable?’
'No'
'Sexy?'
‘No’
‘So why are you so wet?’
‘I don’t know’
‘Open your eyes’
I did, and realised that Marie had trained a video camera on my naked body and was projecting the image of this very naked plump twenty-something onto a large-screen TV that had been placed opposite, directly and deliberately in my line of sight. I was shocked as I contemplated the image of my womanly nakedness. I looked aroused, more aroused than that awful boyfriend had made me, with my pussy yawning open wide, my juices flowing freely, my bush glistening, my nipples distended on my trembling breasts. My skin was pale but my pussy was glowing a warm coral pink with desire, its shiny lips projecting out through the circle of my pubic hair. By sheer instinct, my hand moved down to my womanhood and without prompting I began for the first time to truly explore my body, my fingers probing the tender orifice, one set of fingertips teasing my visibly engorged clitoris whilst my other hand caressed a sensitive nipple. All the time I watched myself performing on the television, unashamedly displaying my pale nakedness with the wanton lust of a woman paid to satisfy the desires of men in an internet porn site. I was shocked at what I was doing, and having come copiously more than once willingly complied when Marie handed me a heavily veined sex toy. My legs splayed wild, I pounded that massive rubber cock into my tremulous body, frigging my clit with my other hand, and coming again with loud gasps of pleasure. I felt drained, exhausted, naked, wide open, displayed. I did not realise I could feel, or look, so sexy, so utterly wanton.
I was so turned on, that it took me a few seconds to realise that, while I had been penetrating myself, that Marie had been taking photographs and had captured every inch of my naked body, taken close-ups of my distended and occupied sex, and recorded the shuddering orgasms displayed on my flushed face with an SLR camera. Even more, she had somehow slipped silently out of her armless summer dress to reveal her own naked body, and a depilated sex glistening with fluids. She joined me on the reclining chair, its width easily accommodating us both, and with the video camera still running embraced me, her hands moving to my breast and pussy. I had never even looked at a woman before, let alone been kissed by one, but as her tongue entered my mouth I came shuddering, watching myself being seduced on the big screen, a glistening star in my own live sex show. My god, I had just become a lesbian, or a bisexual at least, and was thus no longer what I had for so long considered myself before, a wholly heterosexual woman. This confused me, but the feeling of Marie’s experienced fingers upon my tender love-bud just brought me again and again to shuddering completion. She guided my hand to her hairless sex, and I was delighted that my own masturbatory technique could also bring her to breathless, panting joy. When she climbed down my body and became the first woman to taste my pussy, I thought I would die from the sheer pleasure of her sapphic expertise. It was like losing my virginity again, only this time with no pain and also without the shame of knowing that I had given up my irreplaceable maidenly treasure to some unworthy teenage boyfriend. My own first experiment in cunnlingus was tentative, but with encouragement I explored both Marie’s smooth exterior and her tasty passage and finally brought her to the point of pleasure with my tongue in a place I thought it would never go – not in her pussy but circling the pink star of her anus. Her final triumph was to attach that veined rubber cock to a harness upon her waist, and to fuck me so much better than my boyfriend had ever done, describing to me in graphic detail just how much pleasure my womanly body was giving to her assumed manhood.
After two solid hours of sapphic release, we separated our moist bodies, and Marie handed me the memory cards from the stills camera and the video as a memento. Having dressed, I walked out confident and sure – something that I had, of course, never found in the arms of my recent boyfriend!
The question was – what was I to do next?
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