Janet
“Orchard Drive” My heart sank as I heard the words and as a sheet of paper bearing the names and house numbers, and any known political affiliations, of the residents, was thrust into my hand.
'But the houses there are massive and they're all miles apart.' I protested without success.
'You've got young legs, you'll survive.' I was told, wondering morosely how young my legs would feel after having slogged up and down the long winding drives in the heat of a summer's day. I already did as much exercise in the gym as I needed to keep my thin frame fit and healthy without that.
Orchard Drive was not natural territory for my party. Wealthy and conservative, the residents were almost inevitably right wing and were not shy of making their feelings known to what they considered left wing softies. Never mind, everyone had to be canvassed if my candidate was to stand a chance of being elected and, having volunteered, I could hardly complain about being given a job that I knew somebody would have to do. It was the first time I volunteered to work on an election campaign, and I was determined to do my bit for democracy, and so I forced a smile and set about on what I expected would be a thankless task.
A half hour later, I stood at the start of a winding drive while contemplating calling on the sprawling single-story edifice that stood at the other end of it. I already knew who lived here, the sheet in my hand informed me that it was Arnold and Janet Jamison, and that information did nothing to put me at ease. I knew that Mr. Jamison was away, his business visit to China had been trumpeted by the local newspaper, but Mrs. Jamison, a glittering socialite, would a daunting prospect in her own right.
I had never met her, but had seen her on the television news, a tall, slim, elegant woman just a few years older than me, her long prematurely blondish hair complemented an upright carriage and unlined face. A true trophy wife. She was not a woman to be approached lightly with opposing views and so it seemed likely to me that I would be sent away with a flick of her braceleted hand.
Oh well, I might as well get it over with. I trudged up the seemingly endless drive with some apprehension, blaming the heat and the sun for the sweat that I could feel breaking out but knowing the fault really lay with my nerves. But at least the effort was not to be all for nothing, for the red Jaguar convertible that Mrs. Jamison was famous for driving was parked in front of the house, confirming that at least she was at home and a second call would not be necessary.
I pushed the doorbell, hearing it ring somewhere in the depths of the house, and waited. Nothing. I pushed it again, listening for any sign of life and hearing none. Perhaps whoever was at home was sunbathing out by the pool; it was the right sort of day for it and there just had to be a pool. I hesitated, then plucked up her courage and began the trek around the side of the house, hoping that I would not be castigated for disturbing someone.
The pool was large and deep, a genuine swimming pool rather than a show piece, but again nobody was to be seen, although an abandoned half empty glass beside a chaise and towel showed that someone had been there very recently. I looked around, taking in a sweep of empty lawn behind the pool that ran up the slope, ending in a flowering hedge and a gate onto a small orchard. In for a penny, in for a pound, I set off across the lawn, determined not to abandon my quest and thinking maybe that Mrs. Jamison could be in the orchard. It was just the place to get out of the sun if swimming in the pool wasn't inviting enough.
I was right. As I got closer I could make out a mass of tumbling blond hair through a thin part of the hedge. Mrs. Jamison was indeed taking refuge under a tree; leaning back and relaxing with her eyes closed in sleep. I now faced a dilemma, should I leave her resting target and slink away undetected, or take the risk and disturb her? I decided that I had a job to do and had come this far, so I decided to wake the sleeper if she could do it ostensibly by accident.
But then, as soon as I reached the gateway and got my first clear view, I realized I had gotten it very wrong. Janet Jamison was only a few yards away against the first apple tree. She was naked and her eyes weren't closed in sleep but rather in passion. I stood at the gateway and watched, one hand over my mouth in total shock, the other gripping the top of the gatepost for support, unable to move, scared to continue but equally powerless to turn away. Here was probably the most erotic and sensual sight I had ever seen, a woman gently masturbating in front of me, carried away on a sea of pleasure and totally unaware that she had company, and I didn’t know what to do except stand and stare.
Mrs. Jamison was beautiful and somehow contrived still to be elegant even at such a moment. She was leaning back against the wide trunk of the old apple tree, soft, blemish free skin against rough bark, her knees raised a little and parted just enough. The pale hair falling over her shoulders framed a small face with high cheek bones and a finely sculptured nose above full pink lips and a gently pointed chin. Her body was slim and well defined, her breasts, although small, were small but full enough to be interesting with only a bit of sag, and they were tipped with the most beautiful long pink nipples. She was teasing them with one hand, caressing them with tender fingertips, gently circling and stroking, coaxing them into hard little peaks and making tiny pleasure noises as she played.
Her other hand lay over the gentle curve of her taut stomach, her fingers between her legs, unhurriedly rubbing and fondling her smoothly shaven mound. Long slim fingers touched and caressed her labia, parting them to stroke either side of her opening as if keeping the final goal until later.
I couldn't help it, I felt her body begin to respond, my own nipples hardening inside my top, then, as i saw the fingers sink between the labia, delving and searching, I gasped, quietly but audibly, freezing instantly in alarm at the prospect of discovery. But it seemed I had escaped detection for Mrs. Jamison, her eyes still closed, played on, two of her fingers now rubbing at the little button of her clitoris, pressing her labia open and showing the rest of her slit, pink and moist.
Then the busy fingers ventured down, creeping steadily towards their objective before sinking together into the cleft of her pussy, one finding the entrance and disappearing inside her vagina, only to emerge again, slick and shining, before returning into her depths, pushing, playing, her legs parted further, her hips thrusted in counterplay, inviting the finger ever deeper. At first the thrusts were slow and gentle, but soon they became urgent and forceful, the second finger joining the first and showing wet and slippery as her juices flowed, trickling from her in a discernable little rivulet. Her hand became smeared in wetness, passing some of it on to the soft skin of her inner thighs, making her excitement all the more obvious. There was no way that I could move now. I was riveted to the spot, scared and breathless but aroused and held by a sight such as I had never seen before; careless now of discovery if that was the price to pay for her voyeurism.
Mrs. Jamison’s other hand now left the little breasts with their hardened nipples and crept down, over the abdomen, resting briefly on a hip before tracing the path where leg met body until it joined its partner between the two limbs. Mrs. Jamison sighed, a long soft sigh of pure sexual delightas fingers joined fingers, exploring and probing her cleft so that a third finger could play with her clitoris as the others thrust into her. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wipe along each lip in such a lascivious movement that it had my pussy throbbing.
The fingers not exploring her vagina and clitoris now played around Mrs. Jamison's pouting labia, stroking the puffy swollen lips as her rhythmic thrusts brought them into contact. She was teasing herself, quickening her pace until she began to whimper with need, and then slowing until the fingers barely moved, entering her tunnel slowly but inexorably while her clit was caressed so softly as to be hardly touched at all, before arousal took over all over again and her plunges and massage became urgent once more. I watched in complete admiration, stimulated beyond reason by the sight, my reason for calling completely forgotten. My only thought now was self-criticism because I didn’t touch myself while watching this wonderfully erotic display.
Meanwhile Mrs. Jamison was getting close to finishing, her thighs were opening and closing around her hands as if to press them more firmly to her, and the skin of her belly was rippling and fluttering under the sensations that were now clearly surging through her. Her head went back, her lips parting to emit little sharp gasps and the muscles of her neck stretched taut and rigid. Now her fingers were moving more quickly, rubbing hard and hurriedly at her clit while at the same time she stabbed her vagina with the two others, the thrusts not so deep but rapid, as if she was unable to move quickly enough. Then she arched her back, shoulders pressing into the tree, heels pushing hard at the grass so that she lifted herself towards her delving fingers, little staccato sounds now coming from her until a long hissing sigh replaced them and she collapsed back against the tree trunk, shaking and shuddering under the force of her orgasm.
She lay there visibly trembling, her chest heaving and making her pert breasts rise and fall seductively even after her orgasm, and with her hands lying limp between her open legs. I stood and looked, knowing my discovery was almost inevitable but still unable to move, even when Janet Jamison's head turned slowly towards me and her eyes came open, to stare directly and knowingly into mine.
'I knew someone was there, I just didn't want to know who.' Her voice was throaty after her orgasm.
'I'm sorry Mrs. Jamison....'
'Janet, my name is Janet.'
'Janet.' I nodded. 'But I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stayed. I should have left when I saw what you were....' I stopped, my face blazing red with shame.
'That's all right.' Janet Jamison smiled fleetingly. 'It made it better for me.'
'I still should have left you alone, Mrs. Jamison. It would have been more respectful.'
'And so would calling me by the name I've requested.' She tilted her head questioningly at me. 'Wouldn't it?'
'Yes Janet. Sorry.' My mind was in a whirl, this was not what I had expected at all.'
'You're forgiven. Now forget the Mrs. Jamison bit, just remember I'm called Janet. And yes, you did make me come harder by being there.'
She made no sign of embarrassment, or of any discomfort the intrusion may have caused, in fact Janet still lounged with her legs apart, her pussy covered only by her hands. She wondered what to do now, but then Janet spoke again.
'You're supporting the wrong side around here.' She said, indicating the rosette that I was wearing to indicate my allegiance. The raised hand revealed her still shiny pussy and I couldn't avoid staring, feeling an unexpected response between my own legs and then dragging my eyes away.
'Well, can I give you a leaflet anyway?' I asked, only too aware of the absurdity of my question.
'Where do you think I would put it?'
There were several interpretations of that question, and I felt my face flame again as my eyes were once more drawn to Janet's shining pussy.
'No, not there,' Janet laughed, a tinkling, unashamed laugh that took the discomfiture from my expression and substituted a smile of her own.
Janet rose gracefully to her feet and crossed the few yards that separated the two women to stand uncomfortably close, blue eyes looking under lowered lids into mine.
'You're a very pretty girl.' Her hand was unexpected laid softly on my forearm sending tingle of erotic excitement through me.
The effect was so immediate that I wondered what was happening. I instantly felt that wonderful tingling irritation between my legs, along with the expectant tightening of my breasts and the swelling of her nipples. I shouldn't feel like this, shouldn't respond like that to the touch of a woman, especially such a socialite. Okay, so I watched this admittedly attractive woman masturbate herself, but I was sexually straight, ramrod straight. I never felt like this before, ever. Well, that wasn't quite true. I had a crush on a college classmate at one time that had resulted in my exploring my own pussy as I had wanted to do with the older girl, but that was all. Just that one innocent little time, and now I was turned on like a light switch. Other than one occasion I was entirely straight and couldn't understand the effect of Janet's touch, or maybe, I realized, that I simply hadn't allow myself to understand my sexuality.
Janet Jamison's fingers traced the skin on my arm, making me shiver as they made their way past my elbow to the edge of the short sleeve of my top, where they veered away across the material to the political rosette pinned to my front.
'You'll not make many friends around here wearing that.' Janet's voice seemed to come from far away.
Now her fingers were playing with the rosette, undoing its pin and then letting it fall to the ground before they gently outlined the breast beneath it, her nail buzzing against the material of my top and then briefly circling the nipple, the rigid nipple that was standing proud and attesting to my arousal, and moving on up to my neck, softly trailing around and behind, under my ear and down beneath my chin, fingertips just in tender contact with my skin. I stood and let it happen, a little awed by who was doing it, frozen to the spot, unable to register anything except the fact that my breath was coming faster.
For some moments we stood like that, Janet ignoring her own nudity as she caressed my neck, her other hand now resting quietly unnoticed on my hip, affirming the contact without restraining me. All the while I stood still, my own hands by my side, one pointlessly clutching the election leaflets while the other was balled by nervousness into a loose fist, my mind still racing as it tried to make sense of what was happening.
'What are you doing?' I asked, my voice sounding distant and husky.
'It's all right; nothing will happen that you don't want to.'
I nodded, accepting Janet's assurance even though I knew the truth that lay behind it. The truth that said that there was nothing I didn't want to happen. Not really.
Janet's hand dropped back to my breast, the fingers now deliberately stroking and massaging the soft flesh through my tshirt, looking into my eyes as if challenging me to say this was something I didn't want. But, of course, I couldn't ask her to stop; the hardness of my nipples, the sensation of swelling and dampness between my legs, all conspired to force me to capitulate to those fingers. Of course I wanted it, and more. Janet sensed that this was the moment, the moment to make her move, and she came closer, standing full square in front of me. Then, still stroking my breast with the one hand, the other moved to behind my head and gently, slowly and gently, pulled me towards her, opening her mouth in an unmistakable signal as she did so.
The first kiss was little more than lips grazing against lips before Janet pulled away to survey my face, making sure she had not misinterpreted the signs. But my mouth had followed Janet's for a moment as she withdrew, unmistakably wanting the kiss to continue. Janet smiled, a smile almost of triumph that flitted across her face so quickly that it was gone before it was noticed. She was aroused, still wet between the legs, still wanting more than just the single self-induced orgasm of a few minutes before. Her mouth moved forward again, this time pressing firmly onto mine.
I was in a state of confusion, the strangeness of kissing another woman had somehow heightened my arousal so much that my body was aching for release and yet my mind was still rebelling against the idea of having with another woman, It was bewildering, but I could do little about it. Even as Janet kissed me, I found myself pushing hard onto her lips, kissing her back, my mouth opening in invitation to a tongue that entered with eagerness, meeting mine and letting the two dance around each other, exchanging saliva as they flitted in and out of each other's mouths.
Janet's hand was now on my back, running up and down her spine and sending shivers of delight along its length. I passively enjoyed it, until I surrendered with a tiny moan and my own hands went around Janet, leaflets fell everywhere, holding her, feeling the soft warmth of her naked skin, letting my hands run the length of Janet's back from the nape of her neck to the first curve of her bottom.
Almost immediately Janet responded. She released my breast and, using both hands, she began to tug at my top, pulling it loose from my slacks and then working it up my body, all the while maintaining the kiss, the kiss that said everything was all right. Eventually of course, the kiss had to break to allow my tshirt past, but the instant our lips parted I raised my arms high, wanting the top removed so that we could continue. Janet smiled and complied, hurrying the top over my head, reaching high as she tugged it urgently along my arms and away, letting it fall carelessly to the grass.
Now we came together, embracing tightly, not kissing this time but resting our faces on each other's shoulders as we touched and stroked, hands running up and down each other's backs, each writhing slightly against the other to feel the soft flesh of their breasts press one on the other, firm breast on firm breast, hard nipple on hard nipple.
'Come.'
Janet finally broke away to take me by the hand and lead me the few yards away from the gateway where they both still stood to the dappled shade and soft grass beneath the apple tree that had been the site of Janet’s first orgasm. There we kissed again, not an urgent, exultant kiss this time, but a slower, deeper meeting of mouths that allowed tongues to explore properly and let each of us delight in the sensations. Now one of Janet's hands worked its way around to the front, slipping between their two bodies to cup my breast, fingers finding and rolling my nipple, fondling and massaging my flesh. I moaned softly into Janet's mouth, my own hands gripping at Janet’s shoulders as if scared that she would move away.
It seemed like only seconds before Janet's hand moved from my breast, making me want to protest, to reach and pull it back, but then I realized that it was heading south, travelling smoothly over her skin until it reached the waistband of my slacks. I automatically pulled my stomach back a little, giving Janet room between them while maintaining the wonderful sensation of breast against breast, my heart leaped as I felt fingers fumbling with my slacks, and then racing as the pressure around my waist slackened when the fastening was released.
Janet's hand now moved on, pushing at my slacks, widening the opening, scrabbling their way down until they were on top of my pubic mound, only my tiny cotton panties remained between my most personal of flesh and Janet’s questing hand. I pulled my mouth from Janet's, my breath coming too quickly for a kiss to be comfortable, and rested it on her shoulder, gently nuzzling her neck as I waited for the next touch. Long slim fingers inched their way down, over the mound, hooking a little to find their way between my thighs, thighs that seemed to part of their own accord to allow access. I felt fingertips briefly press against my swollen clitoris before they worked their way further down into my slacks, pressing the cotton material of my panties into my pussy. God, how I wished Janet had found her way under them. It would come, I knew it would come, but I wanted every sensation at once, my body wanting everything done to it that one woman could do to another, even though I wasn't too sure what that might be.
'
Yes.' I whispered into Janet's ear, hoping that the word would be correctly interpreted.
'Yes.' Janet responded, the reply sounding a bit like a question.
I nodded into Janet's neck and waited, standing still and tense to see what would happen.
I felt another instant of panic when Janet pulled her hand from my slacks, but then it joined the other and both were on the waistband, easing my slacks over my hips and down my thighs. I felt Janet's face passing close to my crotch as she pushed my slacks down my legs. I hoped that Janet would catch a whiff of my arousal, and then was half scared that it would be too strong to be pleasant. But I couldn't help it, I knew that I was wet through my panties, fully turned on. But Janet seemed not to notice, she knelt before me and lifted each foot in turn to ease my shoes off and the slacks over her feet with no sign of anything untoward. I put a hand on Janet's shoulder to steady myself, gazing down in awed anticipation as Janet reached for my panties, pulling them down and off before tossing them carelessly to one side as if to say they wouldn't be needed anymore.
Now Janet's face was in front of my pussy, and I held my breath. Would she do it? They were both naked now and anything was possible. I didn't even want to think exactly what I wanted in case the thought pushed away the possibility.
But then Janet rose to her feet and an unexpected fleeting disappointment swept through me as she stood before me and as an arm reached around me to pull me back into a kiss, a normal mouth on mouth kiss. We were both now totally without any clothes to get in the way and I could feel the warmth of Janet's skin against the whole length of my body. My arms went around Janet just as Janet's did around me and we stood close, pressing ourselves onto each other and enjoying the feel of skin on skin as we kissed.
I pressed my mound against Janet, trying to feel her pussy mound through the pad of my pubic hair, wanting to know the full extent of their intimacy. Janet moaned quietly into the kiss and pushed herself forward, parting her legs slightly and adjusting her position to allow my thigh to find its way between hers as her thigh pushed between mine, each of us pressing and squirming against the other and bringing home the exquisite eroticism of our embrace. I could feel the smooth skin of Janet's pussy against the top of my thigh, the hairless flesh beautifully warm and moist against my skin. I wanted to touch it, but before I could muster the courage, I felt Janet's hand sliding down my back, over the top curves of my bottom and around my hip, gently but firmly making its way down until her fingertips explored my bush, this time without the hindrance of my panties.
I parted my thighs, breaking the kiss as I readjusted my position to entice Janet to explore further, and then gasping with pleasure as fingertips found their way past mound and onto my slit. Janet bent slightly to reach further, her fingers walking over my pussy, finding my entrance wet and open, ready to receive her. She paused and looked up at me expectantly, her hair swinging seductively across her face.
'Oh.' I gasped in delight at the prospect of finally being touched by her. 'Yes, do it.'
Janet smiled at me before bending a little more and kissing the top curves of my breasts as she thrust two fingers deep into me. She moved again as I spread her thighs even wider, taking my nipple into her mouth, nibbling and sucking it while the flat of her hand slithered along my pussy, pushing between my lips so that the heel rubbed on my clit even as her fingers slid in and out of me.
I was now panting with excitement, overwhelmed by the sensations I was feeling as I draped myself over Janet's shoulder, staring along her bent back but without really looking, my eyes unfocussed as my mind tried to cope with the absolute sensuality I was experiencing. I could feel the first signs of a climax building deep in my pelvis. Janet's thrusts quickened, becoming more urgent and more vigorous as if she understood what was happening and was determined that my orgasm would be as powerful as possible.
Then it came it came. Suddenly. Exploding inside me with wave after wave of pure pleasure racing outwards from my pussy, flooding my body and turning my muscles to putty. I jerked and shuddered, inadvertently wrenching my nipple from between Janet's lips, the brief pain only adding to my enjoyment.
The orgasm was fierce but brief, leaving me panting and wobbly, my mouth hung open, my eyes stared into nothingness but closed briefly when aftershocks tore through me from little movements of the fingers still buried inside my pussy. I could feel myself trembling, my body spent and weak from the violence of my climax, and I was clinging to Janet to avoid collapsing altogether.
'Good?' Janet enquired, smiling contentedly when I could only nod mutely in reply.
She disentangled herself gently, withdrawing sopping wet fingers and putting her arm around me so that she could lower both of us gently onto the grass. I let Janet place me on my back, still panting and drained, only my arm moving to encircle Janet's shoulder as if to make sure she would not move away.
Not that Janet had any intention of doing so, she propped herself on one elbow beside me and began to draw soft circles around my nipple with one fingernail of the other hand, saying nothing but just smiling quietly until I had got myself together once more.
'My God.' I whispered eventually. 'That was awesome.'
'I'm glad.' Janet replied softly.
For a few minutes longer we laid silently together, I regained my breath and realized what had happened while Janet traced little circles over my skin. It was nice to feel a woman touching me so tenderly and so erotically, so different to a man's touch, nice but strange. Somehow, I didn't feel wrong about lying naked in the dappled shade, gazing up at the sunshine filtering through the apple leaves and just enjoying the feel of Janet's fingertips. This was the way to enjoy my post orgasmic lethargy I told myself, wondering at the same time if there was any more to come or if that was to be it. I wanted to ask but just didn't have the nerve.
But then, as I had rather hoped that she would, Janet took the initiative by rolling onto her back and then reached over to take my hand and placed it softly but firmly on her own breast, pulling me onto my side and partly on top of her as she did so. I was surprised for a moment, but then Janet’s smile reassured me, and I began to gently massage the firm breast, feeling the already engorged nipple harden further under my touch. All the while Janet's hand remained over mine, providing gentle pressure and the unspoken encouragement that allowed me to enjoy this very new sensation.
Soon Janet was making tiny little pleasure sounds, little whimpers that revealed how her arousal was growing. Then her hand pressed more firmly on mine, making my grip on the soft breast tighten until I knew it must be hurting. But Janet only pressed harder still, squirming and wriggling under the pressure. It was exciting and exhilarating for me to be able to do this to a woman she was in awe of, but now my problem was that I didn't know how to proceed. I badly wanted to make Janet come, just as she had with me, but I didn’t know how to go about it.
Once again Janet took the lead, moving things along determinedly, taking my hand from her breast and pushing it down her body at the same time threading her own arm under my shoulders to guide my head toward her nipple. I moaned with delight as I understood what Janet wanted, eagerly letting my mouth be steered to the button of Janet's nipple and my hand to the smoothly shaven curve of her mound.
Happy now that they both wanted the same thing, I wriggled down a little to make myself more comfortable, so that my lips could
close more easily around Janet’s nipple without stretching my neck. It was another new sensation, and a beautiful one, the feeling of soft breast flesh that moved and gave as I suckled the hard little nubbin to its peak. I was so captivated by the idea of kissing and sucking Janet's breast that I even forgot that my hand lay a fingertip distance from the most amazing sensation of all, until Janet's hand reminded me.
Now that I had moved, I could reach over Janet's mons to her pussy, but before I did, I shuffled slightly further closer, determined to take things as far as I was allowed. I had felt my own pussy many times, but now I wanted to feel the wet warmth of another woman's pussy and I wanted to be able to reach as far inside Janet as my fingers would go. Without realizing it I held my breath in anticipation, still not convinced that Janet, the high-profile socialite would allow me to make love to her. I held my mouth motionless on Janet's breast as my fingers crept almost shyly onto the soft folds of her pussy, but then Janet sighed quietly and relaxed back, just draping the nearest arm slackly over my shoulder with the other resting by her side, almost as if to say that whatever I wanted to do was fine.
“I need you inside me.”
I released my breath and resumed licking and sucking on Janet's nipple, at the same time my fingers lightly examined her pussy. Every time before when I had touched and explored a pussy it had been my own and there had been the simultaneous corresponding sensation of being touched, but this time there was no such thing. Now I could roam around without distraction, investigate, relish, enjoy, my fingertips stroked her labia, parting them, gliding along between them, finding and touching Janet's clitoris. I could feel my excitement growing again, the pounding of my heart sounding loud in her ears and the need rising inside me to simply ram my fingers deep into Janet. I resisted, savoring the thought, feeling my own pussy open again, wetness flowing at the thought of what I was about to do. I was more in control now, at least for the moment, and I remembering my earlier episode with my classmate, unable then to do anything about it, but suddenly realizing how much I had wanted to and now could.
I opened my mouth wider, enclosing as much of Janet's breast as I could, licking the flesh, running my tongue around and over the swollen nipple, marveling at the wonderful feeling I got from kissing another woman's breast. Now I could resist no longer, and my fingers tiptoed downwards, along Janet's slit, leaving her clit behind to find her opening. It was not hard to find, Janet was soaking wet, her entrance oozing a tiny stream of juices. I paused, partly from nerves, but mainly to take pleasure in the joy of what I was about to do. I stayed still, two fingers resting at the very opening to Janet's body, just feeling the wetness and the heat of her vagina. Janet squirmed beneath her, her hips lifting, pushing herself at me, impatient to be entered.
My fingers moved as if of their own accord and slid all the way into Janet's passage, the wet warmth enclosing them. When playing with myself I could never reach this far inside my pussy and I enjoyed the sensation of wriggling them right inside Janet, hearing her moan long and deep and feel the walls of her vagina contract, her hips once more rising and pushing against my probing fingers. I began to finger fuck Janet, a little uneasily at first, but as Janet responded I pushed in and out more quickly, more firmly, and as deep as I could reach. Soon I had set up a rhythm, her fingers working in and out of Janet’s slick tunnel. Wet noises added to the eroticism. Janet was writhing and squirming, trying to get me to enter further, faster, harder, making little noises of her own. Her arm was no longer just draped over my shoulder, it was holding me tight, fingers dug into my flesh as her orgasm approached. But as Janet became more turned on, so was I, I too could feel that wonderful sensation inside me announced an oncoming orgasm, and this from the eroticism of the situation without Janet touching me at all. I wondered anxiously if I could hold off long enough to bring Janet to orgasm before I had to surrender to my own climax.
But once again Janet changed things. She was out of control, driven by the fabulous feeling between her legs, enjoying my attentions but wanting to take it to its conclusion. Abruptly, without warning, she twisted out from beneath me, leaving me shocked and momentarily disappointed. But I needn't have worried, Janet pivoted around, threading her leg between mine and thrusting it up behind her back to push herself up between my thighs like two pairs of interlocking scissors. All of a sudden, I understood and cried out with delight. I opened my legs to allow Janet to move up between them until our pussies almost met, each with a leg along the other's spine and the second bent before them.
For a moment we both paused and looked at each other along the lengths of our intertwined bodies and then, as if by arrangement, we simultaneously grabbed each other’s knee and pulled our bodies together so that our pussies slapped into each other. I cried out at the contact, the ultimate thrill of feeling Janet's lower lips pressed against my own, mixed with just a little hurt brought me instantly within a hairs breadth of orgasm. I looked wide eyed across at Janet, propped on one elbow and smiling back with delight and groaning. We grinned at each other, writhing and pulling at each other’s legs to increase the pressure. Our pussies flared open, soft tender flesh pressed against soft tender flesh, clitoris on clitoris, juices running and intermingling, squashing and squelching as we rubbed themselves frantically on each other.
I felt my orgasm explode within me and heard someone scream, realizing without embarrassment that it was my own voice letting go with all the passion and pleasure I felt. Both of us were now beyond control, rubbing and pulling frantically, both under the control of our orgasms, riding the crests of wave after wave of pure bliss until at last it was dying down and we lay shuddering and whimpering as each diminishing wave passed through us, each less extreme, less powerful than the one preceding.
Afterwards we lay quiet, still interlocked, sweating and trembling in the dappled shade, both breathing heavily but smiling happily at each other until Janet eventually broke the silence.
“My god, girl. I don't think much of your politics, but you sure as hell get my vote. On top of that, you know my husband is away a lot, and doesn’t even pay much attention to me when he’s home. So, any time you want to knock on my garden gate, feel free.”
'But the houses there are massive and they're all miles apart.' I protested without success.
'You've got young legs, you'll survive.' I was told, wondering morosely how young my legs would feel after having slogged up and down the long winding drives in the heat of a summer's day. I already did as much exercise in the gym as I needed to keep my thin frame fit and healthy without that.
Orchard Drive was not natural territory for my party. Wealthy and conservative, the residents were almost inevitably right wing and were not shy of making their feelings known to what they considered left wing softies. Never mind, everyone had to be canvassed if my candidate was to stand a chance of being elected and, having volunteered, I could hardly complain about being given a job that I knew somebody would have to do. It was the first time I volunteered to work on an election campaign, and I was determined to do my bit for democracy, and so I forced a smile and set about on what I expected would be a thankless task.
A half hour later, I stood at the start of a winding drive while contemplating calling on the sprawling single-story edifice that stood at the other end of it. I already knew who lived here, the sheet in my hand informed me that it was Arnold and Janet Jamison, and that information did nothing to put me at ease. I knew that Mr. Jamison was away, his business visit to China had been trumpeted by the local newspaper, but Mrs. Jamison, a glittering socialite, would a daunting prospect in her own right.
I had never met her, but had seen her on the television news, a tall, slim, elegant woman just a few years older than me, her long prematurely blondish hair complemented an upright carriage and unlined face. A true trophy wife. She was not a woman to be approached lightly with opposing views and so it seemed likely to me that I would be sent away with a flick of her braceleted hand.
Oh well, I might as well get it over with. I trudged up the seemingly endless drive with some apprehension, blaming the heat and the sun for the sweat that I could feel breaking out but knowing the fault really lay with my nerves. But at least the effort was not to be all for nothing, for the red Jaguar convertible that Mrs. Jamison was famous for driving was parked in front of the house, confirming that at least she was at home and a second call would not be necessary.
I pushed the doorbell, hearing it ring somewhere in the depths of the house, and waited. Nothing. I pushed it again, listening for any sign of life and hearing none. Perhaps whoever was at home was sunbathing out by the pool; it was the right sort of day for it and there just had to be a pool. I hesitated, then plucked up her courage and began the trek around the side of the house, hoping that I would not be castigated for disturbing someone.
The pool was large and deep, a genuine swimming pool rather than a show piece, but again nobody was to be seen, although an abandoned half empty glass beside a chaise and towel showed that someone had been there very recently. I looked around, taking in a sweep of empty lawn behind the pool that ran up the slope, ending in a flowering hedge and a gate onto a small orchard. In for a penny, in for a pound, I set off across the lawn, determined not to abandon my quest and thinking maybe that Mrs. Jamison could be in the orchard. It was just the place to get out of the sun if swimming in the pool wasn't inviting enough.
I was right. As I got closer I could make out a mass of tumbling blond hair through a thin part of the hedge. Mrs. Jamison was indeed taking refuge under a tree; leaning back and relaxing with her eyes closed in sleep. I now faced a dilemma, should I leave her resting target and slink away undetected, or take the risk and disturb her? I decided that I had a job to do and had come this far, so I decided to wake the sleeper if she could do it ostensibly by accident.
But then, as soon as I reached the gateway and got my first clear view, I realized I had gotten it very wrong. Janet Jamison was only a few yards away against the first apple tree. She was naked and her eyes weren't closed in sleep but rather in passion. I stood at the gateway and watched, one hand over my mouth in total shock, the other gripping the top of the gatepost for support, unable to move, scared to continue but equally powerless to turn away. Here was probably the most erotic and sensual sight I had ever seen, a woman gently masturbating in front of me, carried away on a sea of pleasure and totally unaware that she had company, and I didn’t know what to do except stand and stare.
Mrs. Jamison was beautiful and somehow contrived still to be elegant even at such a moment. She was leaning back against the wide trunk of the old apple tree, soft, blemish free skin against rough bark, her knees raised a little and parted just enough. The pale hair falling over her shoulders framed a small face with high cheek bones and a finely sculptured nose above full pink lips and a gently pointed chin. Her body was slim and well defined, her breasts, although small, were small but full enough to be interesting with only a bit of sag, and they were tipped with the most beautiful long pink nipples. She was teasing them with one hand, caressing them with tender fingertips, gently circling and stroking, coaxing them into hard little peaks and making tiny pleasure noises as she played.
Her other hand lay over the gentle curve of her taut stomach, her fingers between her legs, unhurriedly rubbing and fondling her smoothly shaven mound. Long slim fingers touched and caressed her labia, parting them to stroke either side of her opening as if keeping the final goal until later.
I couldn't help it, I felt her body begin to respond, my own nipples hardening inside my top, then, as i saw the fingers sink between the labia, delving and searching, I gasped, quietly but audibly, freezing instantly in alarm at the prospect of discovery. But it seemed I had escaped detection for Mrs. Jamison, her eyes still closed, played on, two of her fingers now rubbing at the little button of her clitoris, pressing her labia open and showing the rest of her slit, pink and moist.
Then the busy fingers ventured down, creeping steadily towards their objective before sinking together into the cleft of her pussy, one finding the entrance and disappearing inside her vagina, only to emerge again, slick and shining, before returning into her depths, pushing, playing, her legs parted further, her hips thrusted in counterplay, inviting the finger ever deeper. At first the thrusts were slow and gentle, but soon they became urgent and forceful, the second finger joining the first and showing wet and slippery as her juices flowed, trickling from her in a discernable little rivulet. Her hand became smeared in wetness, passing some of it on to the soft skin of her inner thighs, making her excitement all the more obvious. There was no way that I could move now. I was riveted to the spot, scared and breathless but aroused and held by a sight such as I had never seen before; careless now of discovery if that was the price to pay for her voyeurism.
Mrs. Jamison’s other hand now left the little breasts with their hardened nipples and crept down, over the abdomen, resting briefly on a hip before tracing the path where leg met body until it joined its partner between the two limbs. Mrs. Jamison sighed, a long soft sigh of pure sexual delightas fingers joined fingers, exploring and probing her cleft so that a third finger could play with her clitoris as the others thrust into her. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wipe along each lip in such a lascivious movement that it had my pussy throbbing.
The fingers not exploring her vagina and clitoris now played around Mrs. Jamison's pouting labia, stroking the puffy swollen lips as her rhythmic thrusts brought them into contact. She was teasing herself, quickening her pace until she began to whimper with need, and then slowing until the fingers barely moved, entering her tunnel slowly but inexorably while her clit was caressed so softly as to be hardly touched at all, before arousal took over all over again and her plunges and massage became urgent once more. I watched in complete admiration, stimulated beyond reason by the sight, my reason for calling completely forgotten. My only thought now was self-criticism because I didn’t touch myself while watching this wonderfully erotic display.
Meanwhile Mrs. Jamison was getting close to finishing, her thighs were opening and closing around her hands as if to press them more firmly to her, and the skin of her belly was rippling and fluttering under the sensations that were now clearly surging through her. Her head went back, her lips parting to emit little sharp gasps and the muscles of her neck stretched taut and rigid. Now her fingers were moving more quickly, rubbing hard and hurriedly at her clit while at the same time she stabbed her vagina with the two others, the thrusts not so deep but rapid, as if she was unable to move quickly enough. Then she arched her back, shoulders pressing into the tree, heels pushing hard at the grass so that she lifted herself towards her delving fingers, little staccato sounds now coming from her until a long hissing sigh replaced them and she collapsed back against the tree trunk, shaking and shuddering under the force of her orgasm.
She lay there visibly trembling, her chest heaving and making her pert breasts rise and fall seductively even after her orgasm, and with her hands lying limp between her open legs. I stood and looked, knowing my discovery was almost inevitable but still unable to move, even when Janet Jamison's head turned slowly towards me and her eyes came open, to stare directly and knowingly into mine.
'I knew someone was there, I just didn't want to know who.' Her voice was throaty after her orgasm.
'I'm sorry Mrs. Jamison....'
'Janet, my name is Janet.'
'Janet.' I nodded. 'But I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stayed. I should have left when I saw what you were....' I stopped, my face blazing red with shame.
'That's all right.' Janet Jamison smiled fleetingly. 'It made it better for me.'
'I still should have left you alone, Mrs. Jamison. It would have been more respectful.'
'And so would calling me by the name I've requested.' She tilted her head questioningly at me. 'Wouldn't it?'
'Yes Janet. Sorry.' My mind was in a whirl, this was not what I had expected at all.'
'You're forgiven. Now forget the Mrs. Jamison bit, just remember I'm called Janet. And yes, you did make me come harder by being there.'
She made no sign of embarrassment, or of any discomfort the intrusion may have caused, in fact Janet still lounged with her legs apart, her pussy covered only by her hands. She wondered what to do now, but then Janet spoke again.
'You're supporting the wrong side around here.' She said, indicating the rosette that I was wearing to indicate my allegiance. The raised hand revealed her still shiny pussy and I couldn't avoid staring, feeling an unexpected response between my own legs and then dragging my eyes away.
'Well, can I give you a leaflet anyway?' I asked, only too aware of the absurdity of my question.
'Where do you think I would put it?'
There were several interpretations of that question, and I felt my face flame again as my eyes were once more drawn to Janet's shining pussy.
'No, not there,' Janet laughed, a tinkling, unashamed laugh that took the discomfiture from my expression and substituted a smile of her own.
Janet rose gracefully to her feet and crossed the few yards that separated the two women to stand uncomfortably close, blue eyes looking under lowered lids into mine.
'You're a very pretty girl.' Her hand was unexpected laid softly on my forearm sending tingle of erotic excitement through me.
The effect was so immediate that I wondered what was happening. I instantly felt that wonderful tingling irritation between my legs, along with the expectant tightening of my breasts and the swelling of her nipples. I shouldn't feel like this, shouldn't respond like that to the touch of a woman, especially such a socialite. Okay, so I watched this admittedly attractive woman masturbate herself, but I was sexually straight, ramrod straight. I never felt like this before, ever. Well, that wasn't quite true. I had a crush on a college classmate at one time that had resulted in my exploring my own pussy as I had wanted to do with the older girl, but that was all. Just that one innocent little time, and now I was turned on like a light switch. Other than one occasion I was entirely straight and couldn't understand the effect of Janet's touch, or maybe, I realized, that I simply hadn't allow myself to understand my sexuality.
Janet Jamison's fingers traced the skin on my arm, making me shiver as they made their way past my elbow to the edge of the short sleeve of my top, where they veered away across the material to the political rosette pinned to my front.
'You'll not make many friends around here wearing that.' Janet's voice seemed to come from far away.
Now her fingers were playing with the rosette, undoing its pin and then letting it fall to the ground before they gently outlined the breast beneath it, her nail buzzing against the material of my top and then briefly circling the nipple, the rigid nipple that was standing proud and attesting to my arousal, and moving on up to my neck, softly trailing around and behind, under my ear and down beneath my chin, fingertips just in tender contact with my skin. I stood and let it happen, a little awed by who was doing it, frozen to the spot, unable to register anything except the fact that my breath was coming faster.
For some moments we stood like that, Janet ignoring her own nudity as she caressed my neck, her other hand now resting quietly unnoticed on my hip, affirming the contact without restraining me. All the while I stood still, my own hands by my side, one pointlessly clutching the election leaflets while the other was balled by nervousness into a loose fist, my mind still racing as it tried to make sense of what was happening.
'What are you doing?' I asked, my voice sounding distant and husky.
'It's all right; nothing will happen that you don't want to.'
I nodded, accepting Janet's assurance even though I knew the truth that lay behind it. The truth that said that there was nothing I didn't want to happen. Not really.
Janet's hand dropped back to my breast, the fingers now deliberately stroking and massaging the soft flesh through my tshirt, looking into my eyes as if challenging me to say this was something I didn't want. But, of course, I couldn't ask her to stop; the hardness of my nipples, the sensation of swelling and dampness between my legs, all conspired to force me to capitulate to those fingers. Of course I wanted it, and more. Janet sensed that this was the moment, the moment to make her move, and she came closer, standing full square in front of me. Then, still stroking my breast with the one hand, the other moved to behind my head and gently, slowly and gently, pulled me towards her, opening her mouth in an unmistakable signal as she did so.
The first kiss was little more than lips grazing against lips before Janet pulled away to survey my face, making sure she had not misinterpreted the signs. But my mouth had followed Janet's for a moment as she withdrew, unmistakably wanting the kiss to continue. Janet smiled, a smile almost of triumph that flitted across her face so quickly that it was gone before it was noticed. She was aroused, still wet between the legs, still wanting more than just the single self-induced orgasm of a few minutes before. Her mouth moved forward again, this time pressing firmly onto mine.
I was in a state of confusion, the strangeness of kissing another woman had somehow heightened my arousal so much that my body was aching for release and yet my mind was still rebelling against the idea of having with another woman, It was bewildering, but I could do little about it. Even as Janet kissed me, I found myself pushing hard onto her lips, kissing her back, my mouth opening in invitation to a tongue that entered with eagerness, meeting mine and letting the two dance around each other, exchanging saliva as they flitted in and out of each other's mouths.
Janet's hand was now on my back, running up and down her spine and sending shivers of delight along its length. I passively enjoyed it, until I surrendered with a tiny moan and my own hands went around Janet, leaflets fell everywhere, holding her, feeling the soft warmth of her naked skin, letting my hands run the length of Janet's back from the nape of her neck to the first curve of her bottom.
Almost immediately Janet responded. She released my breast and, using both hands, she began to tug at my top, pulling it loose from my slacks and then working it up my body, all the while maintaining the kiss, the kiss that said everything was all right. Eventually of course, the kiss had to break to allow my tshirt past, but the instant our lips parted I raised my arms high, wanting the top removed so that we could continue. Janet smiled and complied, hurrying the top over my head, reaching high as she tugged it urgently along my arms and away, letting it fall carelessly to the grass.
Now we came together, embracing tightly, not kissing this time but resting our faces on each other's shoulders as we touched and stroked, hands running up and down each other's backs, each writhing slightly against the other to feel the soft flesh of their breasts press one on the other, firm breast on firm breast, hard nipple on hard nipple.
'Come.'
Janet finally broke away to take me by the hand and lead me the few yards away from the gateway where they both still stood to the dappled shade and soft grass beneath the apple tree that had been the site of Janet’s first orgasm. There we kissed again, not an urgent, exultant kiss this time, but a slower, deeper meeting of mouths that allowed tongues to explore properly and let each of us delight in the sensations. Now one of Janet's hands worked its way around to the front, slipping between their two bodies to cup my breast, fingers finding and rolling my nipple, fondling and massaging my flesh. I moaned softly into Janet's mouth, my own hands gripping at Janet’s shoulders as if scared that she would move away.
It seemed like only seconds before Janet's hand moved from my breast, making me want to protest, to reach and pull it back, but then I realized that it was heading south, travelling smoothly over her skin until it reached the waistband of my slacks. I automatically pulled my stomach back a little, giving Janet room between them while maintaining the wonderful sensation of breast against breast, my heart leaped as I felt fingers fumbling with my slacks, and then racing as the pressure around my waist slackened when the fastening was released.
Janet's hand now moved on, pushing at my slacks, widening the opening, scrabbling their way down until they were on top of my pubic mound, only my tiny cotton panties remained between my most personal of flesh and Janet’s questing hand. I pulled my mouth from Janet's, my breath coming too quickly for a kiss to be comfortable, and rested it on her shoulder, gently nuzzling her neck as I waited for the next touch. Long slim fingers inched their way down, over the mound, hooking a little to find their way between my thighs, thighs that seemed to part of their own accord to allow access. I felt fingertips briefly press against my swollen clitoris before they worked their way further down into my slacks, pressing the cotton material of my panties into my pussy. God, how I wished Janet had found her way under them. It would come, I knew it would come, but I wanted every sensation at once, my body wanting everything done to it that one woman could do to another, even though I wasn't too sure what that might be.
'
Yes.' I whispered into Janet's ear, hoping that the word would be correctly interpreted.
'Yes.' Janet responded, the reply sounding a bit like a question.
I nodded into Janet's neck and waited, standing still and tense to see what would happen.
I felt another instant of panic when Janet pulled her hand from my slacks, but then it joined the other and both were on the waistband, easing my slacks over my hips and down my thighs. I felt Janet's face passing close to my crotch as she pushed my slacks down my legs. I hoped that Janet would catch a whiff of my arousal, and then was half scared that it would be too strong to be pleasant. But I couldn't help it, I knew that I was wet through my panties, fully turned on. But Janet seemed not to notice, she knelt before me and lifted each foot in turn to ease my shoes off and the slacks over her feet with no sign of anything untoward. I put a hand on Janet's shoulder to steady myself, gazing down in awed anticipation as Janet reached for my panties, pulling them down and off before tossing them carelessly to one side as if to say they wouldn't be needed anymore.
Now Janet's face was in front of my pussy, and I held my breath. Would she do it? They were both naked now and anything was possible. I didn't even want to think exactly what I wanted in case the thought pushed away the possibility.
But then Janet rose to her feet and an unexpected fleeting disappointment swept through me as she stood before me and as an arm reached around me to pull me back into a kiss, a normal mouth on mouth kiss. We were both now totally without any clothes to get in the way and I could feel the warmth of Janet's skin against the whole length of my body. My arms went around Janet just as Janet's did around me and we stood close, pressing ourselves onto each other and enjoying the feel of skin on skin as we kissed.
I pressed my mound against Janet, trying to feel her pussy mound through the pad of my pubic hair, wanting to know the full extent of their intimacy. Janet moaned quietly into the kiss and pushed herself forward, parting her legs slightly and adjusting her position to allow my thigh to find its way between hers as her thigh pushed between mine, each of us pressing and squirming against the other and bringing home the exquisite eroticism of our embrace. I could feel the smooth skin of Janet's pussy against the top of my thigh, the hairless flesh beautifully warm and moist against my skin. I wanted to touch it, but before I could muster the courage, I felt Janet's hand sliding down my back, over the top curves of my bottom and around my hip, gently but firmly making its way down until her fingertips explored my bush, this time without the hindrance of my panties.
I parted my thighs, breaking the kiss as I readjusted my position to entice Janet to explore further, and then gasping with pleasure as fingertips found their way past mound and onto my slit. Janet bent slightly to reach further, her fingers walking over my pussy, finding my entrance wet and open, ready to receive her. She paused and looked up at me expectantly, her hair swinging seductively across her face.
'Oh.' I gasped in delight at the prospect of finally being touched by her. 'Yes, do it.'
Janet smiled at me before bending a little more and kissing the top curves of my breasts as she thrust two fingers deep into me. She moved again as I spread her thighs even wider, taking my nipple into her mouth, nibbling and sucking it while the flat of her hand slithered along my pussy, pushing between my lips so that the heel rubbed on my clit even as her fingers slid in and out of me.
I was now panting with excitement, overwhelmed by the sensations I was feeling as I draped myself over Janet's shoulder, staring along her bent back but without really looking, my eyes unfocussed as my mind tried to cope with the absolute sensuality I was experiencing. I could feel the first signs of a climax building deep in my pelvis. Janet's thrusts quickened, becoming more urgent and more vigorous as if she understood what was happening and was determined that my orgasm would be as powerful as possible.
Then it came it came. Suddenly. Exploding inside me with wave after wave of pure pleasure racing outwards from my pussy, flooding my body and turning my muscles to putty. I jerked and shuddered, inadvertently wrenching my nipple from between Janet's lips, the brief pain only adding to my enjoyment.
The orgasm was fierce but brief, leaving me panting and wobbly, my mouth hung open, my eyes stared into nothingness but closed briefly when aftershocks tore through me from little movements of the fingers still buried inside my pussy. I could feel myself trembling, my body spent and weak from the violence of my climax, and I was clinging to Janet to avoid collapsing altogether.
'Good?' Janet enquired, smiling contentedly when I could only nod mutely in reply.
She disentangled herself gently, withdrawing sopping wet fingers and putting her arm around me so that she could lower both of us gently onto the grass. I let Janet place me on my back, still panting and drained, only my arm moving to encircle Janet's shoulder as if to make sure she would not move away.
Not that Janet had any intention of doing so, she propped herself on one elbow beside me and began to draw soft circles around my nipple with one fingernail of the other hand, saying nothing but just smiling quietly until I had got myself together once more.
'My God.' I whispered eventually. 'That was awesome.'
'I'm glad.' Janet replied softly.
For a few minutes longer we laid silently together, I regained my breath and realized what had happened while Janet traced little circles over my skin. It was nice to feel a woman touching me so tenderly and so erotically, so different to a man's touch, nice but strange. Somehow, I didn't feel wrong about lying naked in the dappled shade, gazing up at the sunshine filtering through the apple leaves and just enjoying the feel of Janet's fingertips. This was the way to enjoy my post orgasmic lethargy I told myself, wondering at the same time if there was any more to come or if that was to be it. I wanted to ask but just didn't have the nerve.
But then, as I had rather hoped that she would, Janet took the initiative by rolling onto her back and then reached over to take my hand and placed it softly but firmly on her own breast, pulling me onto my side and partly on top of her as she did so. I was surprised for a moment, but then Janet’s smile reassured me, and I began to gently massage the firm breast, feeling the already engorged nipple harden further under my touch. All the while Janet's hand remained over mine, providing gentle pressure and the unspoken encouragement that allowed me to enjoy this very new sensation.
Soon Janet was making tiny little pleasure sounds, little whimpers that revealed how her arousal was growing. Then her hand pressed more firmly on mine, making my grip on the soft breast tighten until I knew it must be hurting. But Janet only pressed harder still, squirming and wriggling under the pressure. It was exciting and exhilarating for me to be able to do this to a woman she was in awe of, but now my problem was that I didn't know how to proceed. I badly wanted to make Janet come, just as she had with me, but I didn’t know how to go about it.
Once again Janet took the lead, moving things along determinedly, taking my hand from her breast and pushing it down her body at the same time threading her own arm under my shoulders to guide my head toward her nipple. I moaned with delight as I understood what Janet wanted, eagerly letting my mouth be steered to the button of Janet's nipple and my hand to the smoothly shaven curve of her mound.
Happy now that they both wanted the same thing, I wriggled down a little to make myself more comfortable, so that my lips could
close more easily around Janet’s nipple without stretching my neck. It was another new sensation, and a beautiful one, the feeling of soft breast flesh that moved and gave as I suckled the hard little nubbin to its peak. I was so captivated by the idea of kissing and sucking Janet's breast that I even forgot that my hand lay a fingertip distance from the most amazing sensation of all, until Janet's hand reminded me.
Now that I had moved, I could reach over Janet's mons to her pussy, but before I did, I shuffled slightly further closer, determined to take things as far as I was allowed. I had felt my own pussy many times, but now I wanted to feel the wet warmth of another woman's pussy and I wanted to be able to reach as far inside Janet as my fingers would go. Without realizing it I held my breath in anticipation, still not convinced that Janet, the high-profile socialite would allow me to make love to her. I held my mouth motionless on Janet's breast as my fingers crept almost shyly onto the soft folds of her pussy, but then Janet sighed quietly and relaxed back, just draping the nearest arm slackly over my shoulder with the other resting by her side, almost as if to say that whatever I wanted to do was fine.
“I need you inside me.”
I released my breath and resumed licking and sucking on Janet's nipple, at the same time my fingers lightly examined her pussy. Every time before when I had touched and explored a pussy it had been my own and there had been the simultaneous corresponding sensation of being touched, but this time there was no such thing. Now I could roam around without distraction, investigate, relish, enjoy, my fingertips stroked her labia, parting them, gliding along between them, finding and touching Janet's clitoris. I could feel my excitement growing again, the pounding of my heart sounding loud in her ears and the need rising inside me to simply ram my fingers deep into Janet. I resisted, savoring the thought, feeling my own pussy open again, wetness flowing at the thought of what I was about to do. I was more in control now, at least for the moment, and I remembering my earlier episode with my classmate, unable then to do anything about it, but suddenly realizing how much I had wanted to and now could.
I opened my mouth wider, enclosing as much of Janet's breast as I could, licking the flesh, running my tongue around and over the swollen nipple, marveling at the wonderful feeling I got from kissing another woman's breast. Now I could resist no longer, and my fingers tiptoed downwards, along Janet's slit, leaving her clit behind to find her opening. It was not hard to find, Janet was soaking wet, her entrance oozing a tiny stream of juices. I paused, partly from nerves, but mainly to take pleasure in the joy of what I was about to do. I stayed still, two fingers resting at the very opening to Janet's body, just feeling the wetness and the heat of her vagina. Janet squirmed beneath her, her hips lifting, pushing herself at me, impatient to be entered.
My fingers moved as if of their own accord and slid all the way into Janet's passage, the wet warmth enclosing them. When playing with myself I could never reach this far inside my pussy and I enjoyed the sensation of wriggling them right inside Janet, hearing her moan long and deep and feel the walls of her vagina contract, her hips once more rising and pushing against my probing fingers. I began to finger fuck Janet, a little uneasily at first, but as Janet responded I pushed in and out more quickly, more firmly, and as deep as I could reach. Soon I had set up a rhythm, her fingers working in and out of Janet’s slick tunnel. Wet noises added to the eroticism. Janet was writhing and squirming, trying to get me to enter further, faster, harder, making little noises of her own. Her arm was no longer just draped over my shoulder, it was holding me tight, fingers dug into my flesh as her orgasm approached. But as Janet became more turned on, so was I, I too could feel that wonderful sensation inside me announced an oncoming orgasm, and this from the eroticism of the situation without Janet touching me at all. I wondered anxiously if I could hold off long enough to bring Janet to orgasm before I had to surrender to my own climax.
But once again Janet changed things. She was out of control, driven by the fabulous feeling between her legs, enjoying my attentions but wanting to take it to its conclusion. Abruptly, without warning, she twisted out from beneath me, leaving me shocked and momentarily disappointed. But I needn't have worried, Janet pivoted around, threading her leg between mine and thrusting it up behind her back to push herself up between my thighs like two pairs of interlocking scissors. All of a sudden, I understood and cried out with delight. I opened my legs to allow Janet to move up between them until our pussies almost met, each with a leg along the other's spine and the second bent before them.
For a moment we both paused and looked at each other along the lengths of our intertwined bodies and then, as if by arrangement, we simultaneously grabbed each other’s knee and pulled our bodies together so that our pussies slapped into each other. I cried out at the contact, the ultimate thrill of feeling Janet's lower lips pressed against my own, mixed with just a little hurt brought me instantly within a hairs breadth of orgasm. I looked wide eyed across at Janet, propped on one elbow and smiling back with delight and groaning. We grinned at each other, writhing and pulling at each other’s legs to increase the pressure. Our pussies flared open, soft tender flesh pressed against soft tender flesh, clitoris on clitoris, juices running and intermingling, squashing and squelching as we rubbed themselves frantically on each other.
I felt my orgasm explode within me and heard someone scream, realizing without embarrassment that it was my own voice letting go with all the passion and pleasure I felt. Both of us were now beyond control, rubbing and pulling frantically, both under the control of our orgasms, riding the crests of wave after wave of pure bliss until at last it was dying down and we lay shuddering and whimpering as each diminishing wave passed through us, each less extreme, less powerful than the one preceding.
Afterwards we lay quiet, still interlocked, sweating and trembling in the dappled shade, both breathing heavily but smiling happily at each other until Janet eventually broke the silence.
“My god, girl. I don't think much of your politics, but you sure as hell get my vote. On top of that, you know my husband is away a lot, and doesn’t even pay much attention to me when he’s home. So, any time you want to knock on my garden gate, feel free.”
5 月 前
