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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