Lindsay
Lindsay is not classically beautiful. She is though stunning to look at because of her eyes. They are large and delightfully, almond shaped in a deep, onyx green color. Their size is accentuated by her long, eyelashes. They demand to be looked at and stared into. It is impossible not to, or is that just me?
She is about the same height as me, five feet six inches. However, that is about all we have in common. Her hair is dark and short, mine is ash-blonde and shoulder length. She is slim with hardly any boobs, probably an A cup, mine are fuller and rounder and on a good day are a full B.
She is so young. Impossibly young almost. Young enough to be my daughter. She has that magical quality of combining the innocence of youth, with her somewhat childlike face, and the allure of a woman due to the curves of her body. She is twenty-two, I am forty-five. We are both single. She is a hair stylist, I am her customer.
I have always been a tactile person. I can remember back to my childhood when I loved to have my mom gently rub my back. Before puberty, I gained a subtle pleasure from touching myself or brushing my hair. In my later teens when I became sexually active, I gained almost as much pleasure from boys caressing me as I did from having full sex with them. My early sexual experiences were with awkward young guys, and I quickly found myself no longer attracted to boys and then men. As I matured, I found massage and when on holiday have had many enjoyable times in spas, with one having a very happy ending. But I always asked for a female masseuse.
Visiting a hair stylist has always been a joy for me. Another person washing my hair and massaging my scalp has become my own personal erotic experience. So much so that when I visit a stylist I make sure that I wear looser and thicker tops to disguise any embarrassment that may occur with my nipples that can be overactive. And I make sure that I wear the right clothing to not expose my wet pussy.
I met Lindsay at a salon in my neighborhood when my usual stylist was ill and I was offered her. Although I do not like change to my routine like that, I accepted. We got on well and even though I was only having my hair washed and blow-dried, I liked the way she worked. The next time I requested her. I had Lindsay for a few weeks until one Saturday she told me she was leaving.
"Going to another salon, are you?" I asked.
"No, Freda and I are setting up a visiting service."
Despite enjoying visiting a salon, I had for some time been on the lookout for someone who would come to my house for those times when it was inconvenient for me to go out. Lindsay and Freda, who I knew, seemed perfect. After she finished, I made a block booking for the next few Saturdays.
"You have a lovely house," Lindsay said as she washed my hair in the kitchen. I was sitting on a low stool with my back to the sink. So that I could get my head and hair into the sink, I was stretched out a little. Lindsay was standing next to me her waist near to my shoulder as she washed my hair. As always, I loved the sensations of her fingers on my scalp.
We chatted about families and she told me her father had left her mother when Lindsay was young. We talked about that for some time until she suddenly realized how long she had been washing my hair.
"Sorry about that Ellen, I got carried away," she said, giving my neck a gentle squeeze.
That's ok," I replied standing up and catching her gaze. She held my look with a slight smile on her face and that glint in her eyes, which later I came to know so well.
We went to the kitchen and she dried my hair.
The next week I was working when she arrived.
"Good morning, Ellen," she said as she came into the house. Again her gaze held mine for what seemed slightly longer than usual, or was that me, I wondered? As I was settling into the rather awkward position, by the sink I slipped and banged my head.
"Shit" I muttered.
"Are you ok?" Lindsay asked gripping my arm.
"Yes, but I am getting too old for such gymnastics" I replied.
"We could use a bathroom, the sinks are usually slightly lower and have rounded sides," Lindsay said, her hand still on my arm.
We went upstairs tomy bedroom and into the bathroom. Using my dressing table stool, it worked much better.
Being slightly lower I noticed that it was her tummy that was close to my shoulder now. As usual, as she washed my hair and massaged my scalp, I was miles away. I was reveling in the feelings of her fingers on my head and in my hair and it took me a while to realize there was another sensation. I opened my eyes and saw that as she moved so the lower part of her tummy inside her jeans brushed against the top of my arm and my shoulder. I thought nothing of it at the time.
The following week, Lindsay and I went to the bathroom again. After washing my hair for a wonderfully, long time she said.
"Would you mind trying this new conditioner? It's horrendously expensive, but we have some free samples."
"Of course" I replied as she stood beside me looking down at me.
This time her hip was near to my arm. As she rubbed the thick conditioner into my hair so her crotch was pressed against me. As her body moved as she rubbed my scalp, she was rubbing agaist my arm. I found the combination of what she was doing to my head and hair and the pressure of her rubbing against me to be disturbingly arousing. I was shocked.
During the following week I reimagined those feelings several times. Each time they made me feel warm and sent little shivers of, I was not quite sure what, through me? I had never had any strong feelings for other women although I had had sex with a couple of girls at college and had 'dirty danced' with a few at clubs in the eighties. As most of my contemporaries did the same, I thought nothing of it and put it down to growing up. Since then, although I had moments of curiosity particularly seeing girl to girl stuff in films and on television, I rarely thought about it and had no more experiences.
The next week, we automatically went to my bedroom. And I assumed the now routine position for my wash.
"Oh shit, sorry Ellen" Lindsay said as I felt the back of white blouse being soaked.
I sat up. "No problem Lindsay, I'll just change it" I said unbuttoning the blouse and going to stand up.
"Not much point really Ellen, you might as well stay like that" she said placing her hand on my upper arm.
I looked up at her and our eyes met. She had 'that look' and held my gaze as I sat up straight.
"Here let me" she said not breaking her gaze and taking hold of the back of my white blouse. She helped me remove it.
"Thanks" I said.
I think that my voice was shaking a little as she ran her gaze down to my breasts and took in my hardening nipples beginning to poke through my sheer white bra and then back to my eyes. A slight smile on her lips, she said softly.
"You are very welcome, Ellen."
My heart was pounding as I lay there while she washed my hair. I could feel my hard nipples rubbing against the thin fabric, and knew they would be clearly visible view and I could tell that Lindsay was glancing at them as she ran her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp. The front of her jeans, just where the zipper ended, continuously rubbed against my shoulder.
“Was this a come on?” I kept asking myself as the stroking of her fingers on my hair and scalp seemed to be slower and softer. As I lay there with my nipples poking through my diaphanous bra with my eyes closed, I imagined her hands on my breasts. I was shocked and I felt disappointed when she stopped.
"Let's go downstairs" She finished my hair cut leaving me incredibly horny.
I took that opportunity to pick up a thin robe and slip it on. That evening, I was alone. I had a light dinner, a couple of glasses of wine and watched a ballet that was streaming. I shocked myself when I looked at the female dancers in their skimpy dresses and thought how sexy they looked. I could not believe that I was staring at their nearly uncovered breasts, their long, dancer's legs and the swirling skirts that showed their panties as much as they covered them.
I was in my conservatory that I had had built on the back of my house.
I had bought a lovely, big, comfortable, chair that I could snuggle up in and watch the large screen TV on the back wall. Being a recliner, I could put it back so that I could lie almost flat. Many a night when I was alone, I would grab a duvet that I keep in the cupboard, throw it over me and sleep there. Sometimes I would undress to my panties, but often I stay fully dressed.
After another glass of wine, as I watched the dancers, I found my mind being filled by visions of Lindsay. Her face, her lips and, of course her eyes flooded my mind. I recalled the feeling of her hands and fingers on my hair and scalp, the sensation of her tummy rubbing against my bare shoulder and her gaze roaming over my breasts in my thin bra. At first, I was horrified. What was happening, I asked myself as I could not shake the vision from my mind? The images of the scantily clad dancers in the TV merged with my mental visions of Lindsay. At first I imagined her in one of those dresses and then to my amazement I saw her naked. It was then that I realized that I was stroking one of my breasts. I pulled my hand away from it as if it was burning me, but then moments later I replaced it. Not only did I replace it, but I slipped it inside my blouse and scooped my breast from my bra.
Reclining the chair so that I was almost horizontal, I closed my eyes, gave into the mental temptations and let my imagination take over. Visions of Lindsay were everywhere. Sometimes she was dressed and washing my hair or caressing my scalp, but more often she was naked. As I “watched” her looking at me with those big, inviting eyes, so my hands were roaming over my body. One was squeezing and kneading my bare breasts and pinching and pulling my inevitably rock-hard nipples whilst the other stroked my mound through my jeans. As I saw that I too was now naked with Lindsay in my bedroom, so the thickness of the denim covering my pussy became an irritant. Without opening my eyes in fear of losing my vision, I undid my jeans, pushed them down a little and slid my hand inside my panties.
Alone in the house waiting for Lindsay to arrive the next Saturday, I was hellishly nervous.
During the week I had masturbated twice more imagining that I was with her. She had not been far from my mind the entire week.
I could not make my mind up on what was going, if indeed anything was going on? It could, of course all be in my imagination. She seemed so innocent. She made no untoward statements and said nothing at all that could be construed as being suggestive. When we chatted about her social life, she gave no hint that she was interested in women or was even curious.
However, her actions and glances, the light, almost caressing, way that she massaged my scalp, how she held my gaze and the slightly overt way her pelvis rubbed against my shoulder screamed the opposite. Or was it just me getting five from adding two plus two?
Lindsay had phoned on the Thursday and had asked me to change from my usual ten in the morning to later in the afternoon.
"It would really help me, and you will be my last so we will be able to take our time and not hurry" she had said sending my thinking into overdrive.
Wearing her usual “uniform” of a t shirt and jeans, which seems “de rigueur” for the young, she arrived just before the five o'clock time we had agreed. Her t shirt was tighter than usual and she was wearing it outside her tight, skinny jeans.
"Just a wash and blow dry today isn't it, Ellen?" She said after we had greeted each other warmly.
I had planned to go to the gym after she had left so I had put on my exercise clothes. It was a new outfit in French blue of matching leggings and a singlet like athletes wear with thin spaghetti shoulder straps and a track type zip up jacket that I had left unzipped. The leggings were tight across my hips, bottom legs. The singlet was provocatively tight across my breasts and I wore a thin bra to broadcast my nipples. The crotch of my leggings was tight enough to show my pussy mound.
"Yes that's right Lindsay," I replied noting that once more she held my gaze longer than she needed, but then, I registered it takes two to tango like that.
With the memories of the times I had masturbated with her in mind, I nearly gasped when she said in what sounded to me like a huskier than normal voice "Shall we go to your bedroom?"
"Yes let's" I replied following her.
My face was just inches from her beautifully rounded bottom in her tight jeans. Was it my imagination or was the sway of her hips and wiggle of her bum more extreme than usual? We reached my bedroom, and I led the way in. We went to the bathroom and as she had for the past few weeks, Lindsay washed my hair with me leaning back on the stool. Once more, it felt to me as though her touch was lighter
"As we are not cutting today, shall I dry it up here?" Lindsay asked, adding after a short pause "In your bedroom?"
That hit me. Lindsay and me in my bedroom resonated round my mind. Standing up I looked at her. She was staring at me with those gorgeous, green eyes and long eyelashes seeming to bore into my mind.
"Yes, why not?" I said probably in a slightly croaky voice. I wondered whether she noticed, but she did not comment.
"Sit in front of the mirror at the dressing table then Ellen" she said sounding very calm and in control, which was far from what I felt.
I sat on the low stool and Lindsay stood behind me. My wet hair hung down framing my face and sticking to my head. She ran her fingers through it and over my scalp. She lifted some of my hair and then dropped it down again.
"That conditioner seems to be working Ellen, I think your hair is lusher" she said as our eyes caught in the mirror.
"Yes, it seems to be" I mumbled feeling a little embarrassed -- at what I was thinking about doing to her.
"It feels so much nicer" she went on running her fingers through my hair and over the top of my head. That felt lovely.
She started drying it with her powerful salon drier.
Would you like a scalp massage?"
"Yes please" I replied my heart pounding a little faster at the thought of the massage, which I always found exciting. “I like you visiting me here; it does get lonely at times."
Lindsay started her massage.
She pressed her thumbs on the top of my spine and slid them slowly upwards along that groove in the back of the neck past the hairline and into my hair on the back of my head. As she did that, her fingers ran up the outside of my neck. They went upwards behind my ears into the tangle of my half-dried hair. She rubbed my scalp then slid her thumbs and fingers back down my neck. She repeated that several times each time massaging both my neck and scalp. It was as soothing and relaxing as it was intimate and erotic.
"Is that good Ellen?"
"Oh it's lovely" I replied suddenly realizing with a jolt that I was leaning back against her. I had no recall of whether that was due to me moving backwards or her moving forward. I sat up straighter thus, opening a gap between us.
The next time Lindsay's hands slid down my neck they rested on my shoulders for a moment or two. They squeezed the muscles at the back and the collar bone at the front for a short time before sliding outwards to my shoulders. With her thumbs pressing into that muscle across my back, her palms straddling the top of my shoulder and her fingers stretching downwards over my collar bones, she slid them back towards my neck where they again rested for a moment or two. She repeated that massage a few more times. Surely now her touch was lighter, wasn't it? I asked myself as I realized that again my shoulder blades were pressed against her chest.
On her fourth or fifth journey along my shoulder the back of her thumbs pushed against the inside of the collar of the unzipped top. That moved it so that the collar slid a little way down my back and the sides of it slipped a little way round my shoulder joints.
"Maybe we should take this off" she said quietly taking hold of the track jacket.
I opened my eyes and caught her gaze.
"We don't want to get it wet, do we? Ok?" she said.
Not thinking that my hair was as good as dry and that the jacket would not get wet, I nodded and with my heart pounding whispered.
"Yes" as I sat up straight opening the gap between us again.
It was, at least to me, such an erotic moment when Lindsay slowly peeled the jacket off and tossed it onto my bed.
She placed both her hands on my shoulders and left them there.
"Shall we carry on Ellen?"
I was not totally sure what she meant by carrying on, but I was beginning to believe that she wanted more from me than just looking after my hair. What I did not know was whether that was what I wanted or not. I was hellishly nervous as again I nodded and whispered.
"Yes please."
"Close your eyes again then Ellen, the sensations will be stronger then" she said softly and again meaningfully.
As her hands slid inwards along my shoulders I closed my eyes and again wondered just what she meant by sensations? I seemed to be hearing double meanings in nearly everything she said and did. Now, it was particularly noticeable that her fingers were more caressing than massaging me. They slithered up my neck, through my hair and onto my head. Gripping it a little more firmly than earlier she quite pointedly pulled it so that she moved it backwards and once more both the back of my head and my shoulder blades were pressed against her body. My shoulder blades were against her waist, but the back of my head was pressed between her breasts, the sides of which grazed against my scalp. The feelings were sensational.
Her fingers started moving over and around my scalp and then back down again to my shoulders. Pausing where my neck and shoulders met, she pressed me right there.
Then, with her fingertips stretching down well past my collarbones she moved outwards, slowly and softly until she reached my shoulders. She paused holding them and softly stroking them with her palms. Slowly, agonizingly slowly they moved down my arms. Her thumbs were on the insides of my upper arms and her hands were wrapped round them with her fingers on the fronts. As they went downwards so the tops of her thumbs brushed against the sides of my breasts just where they flare out from my chest. I gasped and my body jerked at the feelings that sent through me. I opened my eyes and once more our gazes met. She smiled and mouthed.
"Sorry."
"That's ok," I whispered back to her as she eased her hands back up my arms, again brushing against the sides of my boobs.
I closed my eyes again and gripped the sides of the stool as Lindsay caressed my neck and head. The feeling was just exquisite and I was on tenterhooks as her hands returned to my shoulders. Resting them there with her fingers on the top of my chest, it seemed as though she was rubbing her fingertips in little circles. That was so exciting, that my hormones were going crazy and my arousal level went up by leaps and bounds. It continued increasing as she slid her hands outwards, paused on my shoulders, squeezed me there and then slid down my arms. This time when they were level with the sides of my boobs, they stopped. This time, and without any misunderstanding whatsoever, Lindsay’s thumbs pressed into the softness of each tit just about in the middle of each one. Again my body jerked and I think I may have groaned, but hopefully not out loud.
They remained pressed into the soft sides of boobs for a moment or two before starting their return journey, which of course caused them to rub up each breast until they reached my armpits. She lifted my arms above my head and then lightly scratched my armpits. I had never felt this before and it was scarily exhilarating. I realized that I liked it rather too much.
Lindsay now made little or no pretense at massaging it. Her hands were now erotically caressing me. Soon her thumbs and fingers were sliding down my neck and onto my shoulders. This time when they slid along them, however, they stopped half-way, right where the thin spaghetti straps traversed my shoulders. I felt Lindsay’s fingers lifting the straps as her thumbs slid under them. My heart thudded against my rib cage as I felt Lindsay pulling the straps over my shoulders. Then she pulled the straps a little way round them and then let the straps fall against my arms.
Surely now, I thought, there can be no doubt? Surely that is the sign, the message, the request to go further? Surely, I thought, that is the indication that this is sexual?
I watched her in the mirror, fascinated as if I was watching porn, except I was the star. Her fingers slid down my chest. They stopped just above the neck of the singlet and rubbed me gently. Our eyes seemed to be boring into each other as slowly, inch by inch almost, her fingertips slid under the singlet and onto the small swells of my breasts. They stopped and her eyes looked at me. It seemed to me as if she was hesitant.
I was pleased that I was not being taken for granted. I did not want Lindsay to assume that I was up for anything or that I was an easy pushover, although deep down I knew that I would let her do whatever she wanted. I knew that I wanted her to go further, to take me to sexual places where I had not yet been. We held each other's gaze. She raised her eyebrows and smiled. I nodded. Then with no further delay she slid her hands downwards so that her finger slipped into my bra, right onto my breasts and nipples.
My body jumped as if suffering a severe electric shock.
"Oh god Lindsay," I groaned as her fingers pinched each of my nipples.
She pulled me more firmly back against her and the back of my head pressing against her small tits. Her hands were squeezing, cupping, kneading and caressing my tits as she whispered "I have dreamed of doing this since the first time I saw you Ellen. Is it ok?"
She leaned forward and kissed the top of my head keeping her eyes locked on mine in the mirror. I did not know what to do or say, but then I had not been “pulled” in quite such a way before.
Nodding I whispered "Yes” as I watched the hands inside my singlet and bra giving me such wonderful sensations. Goosebumps; I now knew I was going to get fucked.
Still with her eyes locked to mine and her lips pressed to my scalp, she moved her hands out from my bra. Slowly, she gripped the two thin straps that were just off my shoulders and pushed them down my arms. Almost shaking with nerves and anticipation, I straightened my arms so she could move them past my elbows then lifted them to help her take them off my hands. The stretching of the straps had pulled the neckline of the singlet almost off my left boob and part way down my right so that most of my bra was exposed.
As Lindsay pulled the top so that it slid off each boob and was bunched round my tummy, I had such a mix of feelings. They combined elements of tremendous excitement and anticipation of what was to come. Additionally, there was a degree of embarrassment as I saw myself sitting in front of her and a mirror in just my bra. My now hard, dark nipples were clearly visible and poked through the thin fabric of my bra. Yet at the same, I felt an erotic thrill run through me as I flaunted my tits. On top of those was the thought that all of this was happening with a girl young enough to be my daughter! Lindsay took each nipple between her fingers and began to gently knead them. Electric shocks went straight to my pussy.
"Ellen, you are so gorgeous," she whispered putting her hands on my head and turning it so our faces were close and looking at each other. Her lips parted. I did the same as she prepared to kiss me.
I love first kisses. Lindsay’s was magical. Soft, gentle, enquiring, considerate and so enormously intimate it was, by some margin the most erotic experience of my life. The kiss was so intensely romantic and sexually promising that I was hardly aware of Lindsay unclipping my bra until my body and breasts registered the reduction in pressure as, at first it was undone and then removed. All the feelings I had when she had pulled the top down were now intensified. And, of course as she cupped my breasts they became even more intense.
"Come to bed with me Ellen, let me make love to you," she whispered pulling my hand so that I stood up.
Wordlessly, between us we removed the cushions, throw and bedspread.
"Lay down Ellen" she said quietly.
I laid in the middle of the bed and watched her kneel at my side staring at me. She took hold of the bottom of the tee shirt and in one slow movement pulled it up her body, over her head and off. Her lovely little tits were bare and perfect.
She laid down beside me and put her arms round me. Looking into my eyes she pulled me against her so that her breasts were touching mine and then kissed me again. It was a beautiful kiss and a marvelous embrace, both of which went on for some time. As we kissed, her hands roamed up and down my back sending shudders of excitement through me. She cupped my bottom and slid her fingers into the waistband of my leggings. They found the bare cheeks of my bottom outside the thong that I was wearing to avoid a visible panty line in the thin material. As she kissed and licked and sucked and gently nibbled my lips and tongue she caressed and squeezed my bottom.
I wanted to touch her more intimately, but was not yet confident to do that. I reveled, though, in her hand finding my breast and stroking that, before bending her head down and licking the tingling flesh. Her mouth found my areola and nipple and sucked them between her lips and teeth. Instinctively, she found precisely the perfect amount of pressure when she sucked and chewed my breasts.
"Be careful Lindsay," I whispered.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Please don't leave marks."
Smiling she said “ I guess your coworkers would not like that?"
"Not one bit," I smiled back.
"I will be careful, don't worry."
"Sit up Ellen" she said taking hold over the singlet bunched around my waist and without further ceremony pulled it up and over my head in what was yet another hugely erotic moment.
With both of us kneeling in the middle of the bed, we kissed again. I was on fire – my erotic side was in full control. I sucked her lips, the top first and then her fuller low one. I licked along and round each one, pressed my tongue against hers, nibbled the tip of it and pushed my tongue deep into her mouth.
Lindsay’s hands became more adventurous inside my leggings and on my bottom. They stroked all over it, went slightly between the cheeks and wiggled between my legs a little way. At the same time I was running my hands up and down her smooth, slim back and even slipping my fingers inside the waist of her jeans.
She pushed me backwards until I was lying flat on the bed on my back. She was lying with her front half on me and half on the bed. We were kissing and she was cupping, squeezing and rubbing my breasts. She took the nipple into her mouth and then slid her hand downwards. She stroked the top of my tummy around my navel and slid her fingers inside the waistband of my leggings. She took them out almost as quickly as she had slid them in and then ran her hand down the outside of the fabric and pressed on my pubic mound.
Explosions were now going on in both my mind and body. Up to this moment, while what we had done had been sexual, it had not been extreme. I now realized we were about to go all the way to full genital sex. I was enormously aroused and now desperately wanted her to fuck me. I was excited that this wonderful, beautiful young woman wanted me.
Still lightly stroking my tummy outside my leggings, but now moving upwards, she kissed me on my mouth. It was a gentle, loving, intimate, but above all else an enquiring kiss. Once more she slid her fingers inside the waistband of my leggings. This time, though, they went further downwards and the tips rested on the top of my thong. She held them there enquiringly, waiting for a sign or an invitation from me. She was asking for a yes or no, a can we go further or not? It really was time for me to decide if I really wanted her to fuck me.
So, I did nothing other than kiss her back more firmly, more energetically and more eagerly. If I was unable to yes in words then, at least. I could do that with my kiss.
Lindsay got my message. She had my invitation to go further; understood what I wanted. Slowly, almost tantalizingly, she edged her fingers further down my tummy. They went past the edging on the top of my thong, onto the lace of the thong itself and down, first finding my trimmed bush and then sensationally right onto my clit. My body jerked as such a wave of erotic feelings hit me.
Now, her fingers snaked inside my thong, finding my wetness they slid along my pussy lips going as far back as she could, then coming to the front to stimulate my clit. I was in erotic heaven as the sensations built up all over my body.
With Lindsay's mouth sucking greedily on one nipple, one hand kneading the flesh of my other breast and her other hand between my legs rubbing and pressing me, I started to come. She recognized the signs immediately and pushed her fingers up my pussy and used them as surrogate cock to finger fuck me to a wonderfully strong orgasm.
We lay there in each other's arms for some time as she helped me 'come down' from the emotional peak of the climax she had just given me. As that happened, she stroked me, planted little kisses on my face and shoulders and cuddled me to her.
"You were wonderful Ellen, was it for you?"
"Yes, Lindsay it was, thank you."
"Don't be silly thanking me," she laughed adding. "Making love to a woman like you doesn't need thanks, if anything I should be thanking you," she said kissing me full on my lips. As she did that, she took hold of my hand and placed it on her breast. It felt lovely. It was as if it was something I did every day, not something that I had never done before.
Making love to her breasts came naturally. I cupped and caressed them and rubbed and squeezed them before lowering my mouth and taking an areola and nipple between my teeth.
"Wait! I’m not one with you. Let me take these off Ellen" Lindsay whispered pulling on the waist of my leggings.
This was it: Was I up for 'going all the way' with this young woman? I realized we were beyond that point and I found myself lifting my bottom up so that she could pull them down, which she did along with my thong. I was naked in front of my young lover.
"You are beautiful Ellen" she whispered as, kneeling beside me, she undid her belt and zipper and casually pushed her jeans down. She was not wearing underwear, and her pussy was shaved. Then, she reached for her bag and pulled out a strapon! Of course, I knew what it was from the lesbian porn that got me off. Lindsay’s, though, was breathtaking. The phallus was a good 10” long with pronounced ridges every inch or so. I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to take it. There was a smaller shaft that went inside Lindsay as I watched her get it adjusted.
She handed me a bottle of lube and held out her “cock” for me to oil up. “Do your pussy too” she whispered. I shivered as I lubed by pussy, excited for what was to come. Finally, I was ready.
“Doggystyle?” she whispered. I nodded and got on my hands and knees with my ass up in the air. Lindsay pushed my knees further apart and I could feel my pussy opening for her. Juices ran down my thighs. I felt Lindsay getting closer and I waited breathlessly for her entrance. But her fingers began to massage my pussy, lubing it inside and out. I began to come again.
“Lindsay, I need you inside me” I begged softly.
And then I felt it. Pushing against me, rubbing up and down my slit, the ridges grazing my clit. Lindsay continued this erotic torture as another orgasm washed over me.
“You’re so wet” she whispered. “I know, I need you to fuck me.”
I felt her “cock” at my entrance. Pushing against me I could feel my pussy open for her. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in a very long time and all I could do was moan. The ridges of her cock teased my pussy lips and ahe angled her entry so that the ridges rubbed against my clit. The sensations tore through me. Lindsay pushed in deeper but gently, letting me enjoy the sensations as her cock burrowed inside me. “Oh, god” I moaned as I felt her crotch against me, realizing that I had taken her entire cock.
Lindsay took hold of my hips as she withdrew. Just a few inches and then she pushed back inside. I closed my eyes tightly as erotic sensations emanated from my pussy. Lindsay began to withdraw further each time before she plunged her cock back inside me. “Oh, god, just fuck me” I heard myself whisper. And fuck me she did.
Lindsay’s hips went back and forth as her hands kept my hips and pussy in place. She withdrew almost her entire phallus and then plunged it deep inside me. Not roughly, but very sensuously. I could feel my juices ooze from around her cock and down my thighs. I began to moan with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building and building. Moaning louder, Lindsay knew I was close. Long strokes deep inside me and my moaning was just too much and my body was wracked by an incredible orgasm.
Lindsay didn’t stop. What was an orgasm now became a continuous one as Lindsay kept fucking me. I reached under and began to flick my clit with my fingers. I could feel Lindsay’s cock entering and withdrawing. Fingering myself brought the sensations to an entirely new level and suddenly a screeching orgasm tore through me. With a loud, deep moan I pulled away from Lindsay – I couldn’t take any more. I just collapsed on my bed as I felt my pussy spasming oozing come.
After a few minutes I rolled onto my stomach. “That was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Shuffling a little closer Lindsay took my hand and whispered "Touch me, Ellen." She had removed her strapon and offered her pussy to me.
Tentatively, yet with an underlying eagerness, I ran my fingertips across her bare mound. Other than on the few occasions when I had used Internet porn to assist me masturbate, I had never seen a shaved pussy before; I was not sure whether I preferred that to my trimmed bush.
My fingers involuntarily slid along Lindsay's pussy lips and I was surprised by how warm and wet her pussy was. Oddly, of all the times I had done that to myself that had not struck me before.
"Yes Ellen, yes" Lindsay groaned pushing her stomach forward.
"What?"
"Fuck me, finger fuck me."
I felt strong, powerful, controlling and yes, I suppose, dominant as two of my fingers slid inside Lindsay and immediately she started to come. She wrapped her arms round my neck and pressed her tits against my face as I, without even thinking, started to use my fingers as a surrogate cock. It was an awesome experience to give her an orgasm.
The afternoon and evening went on and on. Gradually we got round to doing all the things I had seen two women do together when I had reluctantly at first, but then more avidly watched lesbian porn.
We rubbed our nipples and breasts together and let our nipples tease each other.
My hair appointments have not been the same since that amazing afternoon.
She is about the same height as me, five feet six inches. However, that is about all we have in common. Her hair is dark and short, mine is ash-blonde and shoulder length. She is slim with hardly any boobs, probably an A cup, mine are fuller and rounder and on a good day are a full B.
She is so young. Impossibly young almost. Young enough to be my daughter. She has that magical quality of combining the innocence of youth, with her somewhat childlike face, and the allure of a woman due to the curves of her body. She is twenty-two, I am forty-five. We are both single. She is a hair stylist, I am her customer.
I have always been a tactile person. I can remember back to my childhood when I loved to have my mom gently rub my back. Before puberty, I gained a subtle pleasure from touching myself or brushing my hair. In my later teens when I became sexually active, I gained almost as much pleasure from boys caressing me as I did from having full sex with them. My early sexual experiences were with awkward young guys, and I quickly found myself no longer attracted to boys and then men. As I matured, I found massage and when on holiday have had many enjoyable times in spas, with one having a very happy ending. But I always asked for a female masseuse.
Visiting a hair stylist has always been a joy for me. Another person washing my hair and massaging my scalp has become my own personal erotic experience. So much so that when I visit a stylist I make sure that I wear looser and thicker tops to disguise any embarrassment that may occur with my nipples that can be overactive. And I make sure that I wear the right clothing to not expose my wet pussy.
I met Lindsay at a salon in my neighborhood when my usual stylist was ill and I was offered her. Although I do not like change to my routine like that, I accepted. We got on well and even though I was only having my hair washed and blow-dried, I liked the way she worked. The next time I requested her. I had Lindsay for a few weeks until one Saturday she told me she was leaving.
"Going to another salon, are you?" I asked.
"No, Freda and I are setting up a visiting service."
Despite enjoying visiting a salon, I had for some time been on the lookout for someone who would come to my house for those times when it was inconvenient for me to go out. Lindsay and Freda, who I knew, seemed perfect. After she finished, I made a block booking for the next few Saturdays.
"You have a lovely house," Lindsay said as she washed my hair in the kitchen. I was sitting on a low stool with my back to the sink. So that I could get my head and hair into the sink, I was stretched out a little. Lindsay was standing next to me her waist near to my shoulder as she washed my hair. As always, I loved the sensations of her fingers on my scalp.
We chatted about families and she told me her father had left her mother when Lindsay was young. We talked about that for some time until she suddenly realized how long she had been washing my hair.
"Sorry about that Ellen, I got carried away," she said, giving my neck a gentle squeeze.
That's ok," I replied standing up and catching her gaze. She held my look with a slight smile on her face and that glint in her eyes, which later I came to know so well.
We went to the kitchen and she dried my hair.
The next week I was working when she arrived.
"Good morning, Ellen," she said as she came into the house. Again her gaze held mine for what seemed slightly longer than usual, or was that me, I wondered? As I was settling into the rather awkward position, by the sink I slipped and banged my head.
"Shit" I muttered.
"Are you ok?" Lindsay asked gripping my arm.
"Yes, but I am getting too old for such gymnastics" I replied.
"We could use a bathroom, the sinks are usually slightly lower and have rounded sides," Lindsay said, her hand still on my arm.
We went upstairs tomy bedroom and into the bathroom. Using my dressing table stool, it worked much better.
Being slightly lower I noticed that it was her tummy that was close to my shoulder now. As usual, as she washed my hair and massaged my scalp, I was miles away. I was reveling in the feelings of her fingers on my head and in my hair and it took me a while to realize there was another sensation. I opened my eyes and saw that as she moved so the lower part of her tummy inside her jeans brushed against the top of my arm and my shoulder. I thought nothing of it at the time.
The following week, Lindsay and I went to the bathroom again. After washing my hair for a wonderfully, long time she said.
"Would you mind trying this new conditioner? It's horrendously expensive, but we have some free samples."
"Of course" I replied as she stood beside me looking down at me.
This time her hip was near to my arm. As she rubbed the thick conditioner into my hair so her crotch was pressed against me. As her body moved as she rubbed my scalp, she was rubbing agaist my arm. I found the combination of what she was doing to my head and hair and the pressure of her rubbing against me to be disturbingly arousing. I was shocked.
During the following week I reimagined those feelings several times. Each time they made me feel warm and sent little shivers of, I was not quite sure what, through me? I had never had any strong feelings for other women although I had had sex with a couple of girls at college and had 'dirty danced' with a few at clubs in the eighties. As most of my contemporaries did the same, I thought nothing of it and put it down to growing up. Since then, although I had moments of curiosity particularly seeing girl to girl stuff in films and on television, I rarely thought about it and had no more experiences.
The next week, we automatically went to my bedroom. And I assumed the now routine position for my wash.
"Oh shit, sorry Ellen" Lindsay said as I felt the back of white blouse being soaked.
I sat up. "No problem Lindsay, I'll just change it" I said unbuttoning the blouse and going to stand up.
"Not much point really Ellen, you might as well stay like that" she said placing her hand on my upper arm.
I looked up at her and our eyes met. She had 'that look' and held my gaze as I sat up straight.
"Here let me" she said not breaking her gaze and taking hold of the back of my white blouse. She helped me remove it.
"Thanks" I said.
I think that my voice was shaking a little as she ran her gaze down to my breasts and took in my hardening nipples beginning to poke through my sheer white bra and then back to my eyes. A slight smile on her lips, she said softly.
"You are very welcome, Ellen."
My heart was pounding as I lay there while she washed my hair. I could feel my hard nipples rubbing against the thin fabric, and knew they would be clearly visible view and I could tell that Lindsay was glancing at them as she ran her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp. The front of her jeans, just where the zipper ended, continuously rubbed against my shoulder.
“Was this a come on?” I kept asking myself as the stroking of her fingers on my hair and scalp seemed to be slower and softer. As I lay there with my nipples poking through my diaphanous bra with my eyes closed, I imagined her hands on my breasts. I was shocked and I felt disappointed when she stopped.
"Let's go downstairs" She finished my hair cut leaving me incredibly horny.
I took that opportunity to pick up a thin robe and slip it on. That evening, I was alone. I had a light dinner, a couple of glasses of wine and watched a ballet that was streaming. I shocked myself when I looked at the female dancers in their skimpy dresses and thought how sexy they looked. I could not believe that I was staring at their nearly uncovered breasts, their long, dancer's legs and the swirling skirts that showed their panties as much as they covered them.
I was in my conservatory that I had had built on the back of my house.
I had bought a lovely, big, comfortable, chair that I could snuggle up in and watch the large screen TV on the back wall. Being a recliner, I could put it back so that I could lie almost flat. Many a night when I was alone, I would grab a duvet that I keep in the cupboard, throw it over me and sleep there. Sometimes I would undress to my panties, but often I stay fully dressed.
After another glass of wine, as I watched the dancers, I found my mind being filled by visions of Lindsay. Her face, her lips and, of course her eyes flooded my mind. I recalled the feeling of her hands and fingers on my hair and scalp, the sensation of her tummy rubbing against my bare shoulder and her gaze roaming over my breasts in my thin bra. At first, I was horrified. What was happening, I asked myself as I could not shake the vision from my mind? The images of the scantily clad dancers in the TV merged with my mental visions of Lindsay. At first I imagined her in one of those dresses and then to my amazement I saw her naked. It was then that I realized that I was stroking one of my breasts. I pulled my hand away from it as if it was burning me, but then moments later I replaced it. Not only did I replace it, but I slipped it inside my blouse and scooped my breast from my bra.
Reclining the chair so that I was almost horizontal, I closed my eyes, gave into the mental temptations and let my imagination take over. Visions of Lindsay were everywhere. Sometimes she was dressed and washing my hair or caressing my scalp, but more often she was naked. As I “watched” her looking at me with those big, inviting eyes, so my hands were roaming over my body. One was squeezing and kneading my bare breasts and pinching and pulling my inevitably rock-hard nipples whilst the other stroked my mound through my jeans. As I saw that I too was now naked with Lindsay in my bedroom, so the thickness of the denim covering my pussy became an irritant. Without opening my eyes in fear of losing my vision, I undid my jeans, pushed them down a little and slid my hand inside my panties.
Alone in the house waiting for Lindsay to arrive the next Saturday, I was hellishly nervous.
During the week I had masturbated twice more imagining that I was with her. She had not been far from my mind the entire week.
I could not make my mind up on what was going, if indeed anything was going on? It could, of course all be in my imagination. She seemed so innocent. She made no untoward statements and said nothing at all that could be construed as being suggestive. When we chatted about her social life, she gave no hint that she was interested in women or was even curious.
However, her actions and glances, the light, almost caressing, way that she massaged my scalp, how she held my gaze and the slightly overt way her pelvis rubbed against my shoulder screamed the opposite. Or was it just me getting five from adding two plus two?
Lindsay had phoned on the Thursday and had asked me to change from my usual ten in the morning to later in the afternoon.
"It would really help me, and you will be my last so we will be able to take our time and not hurry" she had said sending my thinking into overdrive.
Wearing her usual “uniform” of a t shirt and jeans, which seems “de rigueur” for the young, she arrived just before the five o'clock time we had agreed. Her t shirt was tighter than usual and she was wearing it outside her tight, skinny jeans.
"Just a wash and blow dry today isn't it, Ellen?" She said after we had greeted each other warmly.
I had planned to go to the gym after she had left so I had put on my exercise clothes. It was a new outfit in French blue of matching leggings and a singlet like athletes wear with thin spaghetti shoulder straps and a track type zip up jacket that I had left unzipped. The leggings were tight across my hips, bottom legs. The singlet was provocatively tight across my breasts and I wore a thin bra to broadcast my nipples. The crotch of my leggings was tight enough to show my pussy mound.
"Yes that's right Lindsay," I replied noting that once more she held my gaze longer than she needed, but then, I registered it takes two to tango like that.
With the memories of the times I had masturbated with her in mind, I nearly gasped when she said in what sounded to me like a huskier than normal voice "Shall we go to your bedroom?"
"Yes let's" I replied following her.
My face was just inches from her beautifully rounded bottom in her tight jeans. Was it my imagination or was the sway of her hips and wiggle of her bum more extreme than usual? We reached my bedroom, and I led the way in. We went to the bathroom and as she had for the past few weeks, Lindsay washed my hair with me leaning back on the stool. Once more, it felt to me as though her touch was lighter
"As we are not cutting today, shall I dry it up here?" Lindsay asked, adding after a short pause "In your bedroom?"
That hit me. Lindsay and me in my bedroom resonated round my mind. Standing up I looked at her. She was staring at me with those gorgeous, green eyes and long eyelashes seeming to bore into my mind.
"Yes, why not?" I said probably in a slightly croaky voice. I wondered whether she noticed, but she did not comment.
"Sit in front of the mirror at the dressing table then Ellen" she said sounding very calm and in control, which was far from what I felt.
I sat on the low stool and Lindsay stood behind me. My wet hair hung down framing my face and sticking to my head. She ran her fingers through it and over my scalp. She lifted some of my hair and then dropped it down again.
"That conditioner seems to be working Ellen, I think your hair is lusher" she said as our eyes caught in the mirror.
"Yes, it seems to be" I mumbled feeling a little embarrassed -- at what I was thinking about doing to her.
"It feels so much nicer" she went on running her fingers through my hair and over the top of my head. That felt lovely.
She started drying it with her powerful salon drier.
Would you like a scalp massage?"
"Yes please" I replied my heart pounding a little faster at the thought of the massage, which I always found exciting. “I like you visiting me here; it does get lonely at times."
Lindsay started her massage.
She pressed her thumbs on the top of my spine and slid them slowly upwards along that groove in the back of the neck past the hairline and into my hair on the back of my head. As she did that, her fingers ran up the outside of my neck. They went upwards behind my ears into the tangle of my half-dried hair. She rubbed my scalp then slid her thumbs and fingers back down my neck. She repeated that several times each time massaging both my neck and scalp. It was as soothing and relaxing as it was intimate and erotic.
"Is that good Ellen?"
"Oh it's lovely" I replied suddenly realizing with a jolt that I was leaning back against her. I had no recall of whether that was due to me moving backwards or her moving forward. I sat up straighter thus, opening a gap between us.
The next time Lindsay's hands slid down my neck they rested on my shoulders for a moment or two. They squeezed the muscles at the back and the collar bone at the front for a short time before sliding outwards to my shoulders. With her thumbs pressing into that muscle across my back, her palms straddling the top of my shoulder and her fingers stretching downwards over my collar bones, she slid them back towards my neck where they again rested for a moment or two. She repeated that massage a few more times. Surely now her touch was lighter, wasn't it? I asked myself as I realized that again my shoulder blades were pressed against her chest.
On her fourth or fifth journey along my shoulder the back of her thumbs pushed against the inside of the collar of the unzipped top. That moved it so that the collar slid a little way down my back and the sides of it slipped a little way round my shoulder joints.
"Maybe we should take this off" she said quietly taking hold of the track jacket.
I opened my eyes and caught her gaze.
"We don't want to get it wet, do we? Ok?" she said.
Not thinking that my hair was as good as dry and that the jacket would not get wet, I nodded and with my heart pounding whispered.
"Yes" as I sat up straight opening the gap between us again.
It was, at least to me, such an erotic moment when Lindsay slowly peeled the jacket off and tossed it onto my bed.
She placed both her hands on my shoulders and left them there.
"Shall we carry on Ellen?"
I was not totally sure what she meant by carrying on, but I was beginning to believe that she wanted more from me than just looking after my hair. What I did not know was whether that was what I wanted or not. I was hellishly nervous as again I nodded and whispered.
"Yes please."
"Close your eyes again then Ellen, the sensations will be stronger then" she said softly and again meaningfully.
As her hands slid inwards along my shoulders I closed my eyes and again wondered just what she meant by sensations? I seemed to be hearing double meanings in nearly everything she said and did. Now, it was particularly noticeable that her fingers were more caressing than massaging me. They slithered up my neck, through my hair and onto my head. Gripping it a little more firmly than earlier she quite pointedly pulled it so that she moved it backwards and once more both the back of my head and my shoulder blades were pressed against her body. My shoulder blades were against her waist, but the back of my head was pressed between her breasts, the sides of which grazed against my scalp. The feelings were sensational.
Her fingers started moving over and around my scalp and then back down again to my shoulders. Pausing where my neck and shoulders met, she pressed me right there.
Then, with her fingertips stretching down well past my collarbones she moved outwards, slowly and softly until she reached my shoulders. She paused holding them and softly stroking them with her palms. Slowly, agonizingly slowly they moved down my arms. Her thumbs were on the insides of my upper arms and her hands were wrapped round them with her fingers on the fronts. As they went downwards so the tops of her thumbs brushed against the sides of my breasts just where they flare out from my chest. I gasped and my body jerked at the feelings that sent through me. I opened my eyes and once more our gazes met. She smiled and mouthed.
"Sorry."
"That's ok," I whispered back to her as she eased her hands back up my arms, again brushing against the sides of my boobs.
I closed my eyes again and gripped the sides of the stool as Lindsay caressed my neck and head. The feeling was just exquisite and I was on tenterhooks as her hands returned to my shoulders. Resting them there with her fingers on the top of my chest, it seemed as though she was rubbing her fingertips in little circles. That was so exciting, that my hormones were going crazy and my arousal level went up by leaps and bounds. It continued increasing as she slid her hands outwards, paused on my shoulders, squeezed me there and then slid down my arms. This time when they were level with the sides of my boobs, they stopped. This time, and without any misunderstanding whatsoever, Lindsay’s thumbs pressed into the softness of each tit just about in the middle of each one. Again my body jerked and I think I may have groaned, but hopefully not out loud.
They remained pressed into the soft sides of boobs for a moment or two before starting their return journey, which of course caused them to rub up each breast until they reached my armpits. She lifted my arms above my head and then lightly scratched my armpits. I had never felt this before and it was scarily exhilarating. I realized that I liked it rather too much.
Lindsay now made little or no pretense at massaging it. Her hands were now erotically caressing me. Soon her thumbs and fingers were sliding down my neck and onto my shoulders. This time when they slid along them, however, they stopped half-way, right where the thin spaghetti straps traversed my shoulders. I felt Lindsay’s fingers lifting the straps as her thumbs slid under them. My heart thudded against my rib cage as I felt Lindsay pulling the straps over my shoulders. Then she pulled the straps a little way round them and then let the straps fall against my arms.
Surely now, I thought, there can be no doubt? Surely that is the sign, the message, the request to go further? Surely, I thought, that is the indication that this is sexual?
I watched her in the mirror, fascinated as if I was watching porn, except I was the star. Her fingers slid down my chest. They stopped just above the neck of the singlet and rubbed me gently. Our eyes seemed to be boring into each other as slowly, inch by inch almost, her fingertips slid under the singlet and onto the small swells of my breasts. They stopped and her eyes looked at me. It seemed to me as if she was hesitant.
I was pleased that I was not being taken for granted. I did not want Lindsay to assume that I was up for anything or that I was an easy pushover, although deep down I knew that I would let her do whatever she wanted. I knew that I wanted her to go further, to take me to sexual places where I had not yet been. We held each other's gaze. She raised her eyebrows and smiled. I nodded. Then with no further delay she slid her hands downwards so that her finger slipped into my bra, right onto my breasts and nipples.
My body jumped as if suffering a severe electric shock.
"Oh god Lindsay," I groaned as her fingers pinched each of my nipples.
She pulled me more firmly back against her and the back of my head pressing against her small tits. Her hands were squeezing, cupping, kneading and caressing my tits as she whispered "I have dreamed of doing this since the first time I saw you Ellen. Is it ok?"
She leaned forward and kissed the top of my head keeping her eyes locked on mine in the mirror. I did not know what to do or say, but then I had not been “pulled” in quite such a way before.
Nodding I whispered "Yes” as I watched the hands inside my singlet and bra giving me such wonderful sensations. Goosebumps; I now knew I was going to get fucked.
Still with her eyes locked to mine and her lips pressed to my scalp, she moved her hands out from my bra. Slowly, she gripped the two thin straps that were just off my shoulders and pushed them down my arms. Almost shaking with nerves and anticipation, I straightened my arms so she could move them past my elbows then lifted them to help her take them off my hands. The stretching of the straps had pulled the neckline of the singlet almost off my left boob and part way down my right so that most of my bra was exposed.
As Lindsay pulled the top so that it slid off each boob and was bunched round my tummy, I had such a mix of feelings. They combined elements of tremendous excitement and anticipation of what was to come. Additionally, there was a degree of embarrassment as I saw myself sitting in front of her and a mirror in just my bra. My now hard, dark nipples were clearly visible and poked through the thin fabric of my bra. Yet at the same, I felt an erotic thrill run through me as I flaunted my tits. On top of those was the thought that all of this was happening with a girl young enough to be my daughter! Lindsay took each nipple between her fingers and began to gently knead them. Electric shocks went straight to my pussy.
"Ellen, you are so gorgeous," she whispered putting her hands on my head and turning it so our faces were close and looking at each other. Her lips parted. I did the same as she prepared to kiss me.
I love first kisses. Lindsay’s was magical. Soft, gentle, enquiring, considerate and so enormously intimate it was, by some margin the most erotic experience of my life. The kiss was so intensely romantic and sexually promising that I was hardly aware of Lindsay unclipping my bra until my body and breasts registered the reduction in pressure as, at first it was undone and then removed. All the feelings I had when she had pulled the top down were now intensified. And, of course as she cupped my breasts they became even more intense.
"Come to bed with me Ellen, let me make love to you," she whispered pulling my hand so that I stood up.
Wordlessly, between us we removed the cushions, throw and bedspread.
"Lay down Ellen" she said quietly.
I laid in the middle of the bed and watched her kneel at my side staring at me. She took hold of the bottom of the tee shirt and in one slow movement pulled it up her body, over her head and off. Her lovely little tits were bare and perfect.
She laid down beside me and put her arms round me. Looking into my eyes she pulled me against her so that her breasts were touching mine and then kissed me again. It was a beautiful kiss and a marvelous embrace, both of which went on for some time. As we kissed, her hands roamed up and down my back sending shudders of excitement through me. She cupped my bottom and slid her fingers into the waistband of my leggings. They found the bare cheeks of my bottom outside the thong that I was wearing to avoid a visible panty line in the thin material. As she kissed and licked and sucked and gently nibbled my lips and tongue she caressed and squeezed my bottom.
I wanted to touch her more intimately, but was not yet confident to do that. I reveled, though, in her hand finding my breast and stroking that, before bending her head down and licking the tingling flesh. Her mouth found my areola and nipple and sucked them between her lips and teeth. Instinctively, she found precisely the perfect amount of pressure when she sucked and chewed my breasts.
"Be careful Lindsay," I whispered.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Please don't leave marks."
Smiling she said “ I guess your coworkers would not like that?"
"Not one bit," I smiled back.
"I will be careful, don't worry."
"Sit up Ellen" she said taking hold over the singlet bunched around my waist and without further ceremony pulled it up and over my head in what was yet another hugely erotic moment.
With both of us kneeling in the middle of the bed, we kissed again. I was on fire – my erotic side was in full control. I sucked her lips, the top first and then her fuller low one. I licked along and round each one, pressed my tongue against hers, nibbled the tip of it and pushed my tongue deep into her mouth.
Lindsay’s hands became more adventurous inside my leggings and on my bottom. They stroked all over it, went slightly between the cheeks and wiggled between my legs a little way. At the same time I was running my hands up and down her smooth, slim back and even slipping my fingers inside the waist of her jeans.
She pushed me backwards until I was lying flat on the bed on my back. She was lying with her front half on me and half on the bed. We were kissing and she was cupping, squeezing and rubbing my breasts. She took the nipple into her mouth and then slid her hand downwards. She stroked the top of my tummy around my navel and slid her fingers inside the waistband of my leggings. She took them out almost as quickly as she had slid them in and then ran her hand down the outside of the fabric and pressed on my pubic mound.
Explosions were now going on in both my mind and body. Up to this moment, while what we had done had been sexual, it had not been extreme. I now realized we were about to go all the way to full genital sex. I was enormously aroused and now desperately wanted her to fuck me. I was excited that this wonderful, beautiful young woman wanted me.
Still lightly stroking my tummy outside my leggings, but now moving upwards, she kissed me on my mouth. It was a gentle, loving, intimate, but above all else an enquiring kiss. Once more she slid her fingers inside the waistband of my leggings. This time, though, they went further downwards and the tips rested on the top of my thong. She held them there enquiringly, waiting for a sign or an invitation from me. She was asking for a yes or no, a can we go further or not? It really was time for me to decide if I really wanted her to fuck me.
So, I did nothing other than kiss her back more firmly, more energetically and more eagerly. If I was unable to yes in words then, at least. I could do that with my kiss.
Lindsay got my message. She had my invitation to go further; understood what I wanted. Slowly, almost tantalizingly, she edged her fingers further down my tummy. They went past the edging on the top of my thong, onto the lace of the thong itself and down, first finding my trimmed bush and then sensationally right onto my clit. My body jerked as such a wave of erotic feelings hit me.
Now, her fingers snaked inside my thong, finding my wetness they slid along my pussy lips going as far back as she could, then coming to the front to stimulate my clit. I was in erotic heaven as the sensations built up all over my body.
With Lindsay's mouth sucking greedily on one nipple, one hand kneading the flesh of my other breast and her other hand between my legs rubbing and pressing me, I started to come. She recognized the signs immediately and pushed her fingers up my pussy and used them as surrogate cock to finger fuck me to a wonderfully strong orgasm.
We lay there in each other's arms for some time as she helped me 'come down' from the emotional peak of the climax she had just given me. As that happened, she stroked me, planted little kisses on my face and shoulders and cuddled me to her.
"You were wonderful Ellen, was it for you?"
"Yes, Lindsay it was, thank you."
"Don't be silly thanking me," she laughed adding. "Making love to a woman like you doesn't need thanks, if anything I should be thanking you," she said kissing me full on my lips. As she did that, she took hold of my hand and placed it on her breast. It felt lovely. It was as if it was something I did every day, not something that I had never done before.
Making love to her breasts came naturally. I cupped and caressed them and rubbed and squeezed them before lowering my mouth and taking an areola and nipple between my teeth.
"Wait! I’m not one with you. Let me take these off Ellen" Lindsay whispered pulling on the waist of my leggings.
This was it: Was I up for 'going all the way' with this young woman? I realized we were beyond that point and I found myself lifting my bottom up so that she could pull them down, which she did along with my thong. I was naked in front of my young lover.
"You are beautiful Ellen" she whispered as, kneeling beside me, she undid her belt and zipper and casually pushed her jeans down. She was not wearing underwear, and her pussy was shaved. Then, she reached for her bag and pulled out a strapon! Of course, I knew what it was from the lesbian porn that got me off. Lindsay’s, though, was breathtaking. The phallus was a good 10” long with pronounced ridges every inch or so. I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to take it. There was a smaller shaft that went inside Lindsay as I watched her get it adjusted.
She handed me a bottle of lube and held out her “cock” for me to oil up. “Do your pussy too” she whispered. I shivered as I lubed by pussy, excited for what was to come. Finally, I was ready.
“Doggystyle?” she whispered. I nodded and got on my hands and knees with my ass up in the air. Lindsay pushed my knees further apart and I could feel my pussy opening for her. Juices ran down my thighs. I felt Lindsay getting closer and I waited breathlessly for her entrance. But her fingers began to massage my pussy, lubing it inside and out. I began to come again.
“Lindsay, I need you inside me” I begged softly.
And then I felt it. Pushing against me, rubbing up and down my slit, the ridges grazing my clit. Lindsay continued this erotic torture as another orgasm washed over me.
“You’re so wet” she whispered. “I know, I need you to fuck me.”
I felt her “cock” at my entrance. Pushing against me I could feel my pussy open for her. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in a very long time and all I could do was moan. The ridges of her cock teased my pussy lips and ahe angled her entry so that the ridges rubbed against my clit. The sensations tore through me. Lindsay pushed in deeper but gently, letting me enjoy the sensations as her cock burrowed inside me. “Oh, god” I moaned as I felt her crotch against me, realizing that I had taken her entire cock.
Lindsay took hold of my hips as she withdrew. Just a few inches and then she pushed back inside. I closed my eyes tightly as erotic sensations emanated from my pussy. Lindsay began to withdraw further each time before she plunged her cock back inside me. “Oh, god, just fuck me” I heard myself whisper. And fuck me she did.
Lindsay’s hips went back and forth as her hands kept my hips and pussy in place. She withdrew almost her entire phallus and then plunged it deep inside me. Not roughly, but very sensuously. I could feel my juices ooze from around her cock and down my thighs. I began to moan with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building and building. Moaning louder, Lindsay knew I was close. Long strokes deep inside me and my moaning was just too much and my body was wracked by an incredible orgasm.
Lindsay didn’t stop. What was an orgasm now became a continuous one as Lindsay kept fucking me. I reached under and began to flick my clit with my fingers. I could feel Lindsay’s cock entering and withdrawing. Fingering myself brought the sensations to an entirely new level and suddenly a screeching orgasm tore through me. With a loud, deep moan I pulled away from Lindsay – I couldn’t take any more. I just collapsed on my bed as I felt my pussy spasming oozing come.
After a few minutes I rolled onto my stomach. “That was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Shuffling a little closer Lindsay took my hand and whispered "Touch me, Ellen." She had removed her strapon and offered her pussy to me.
Tentatively, yet with an underlying eagerness, I ran my fingertips across her bare mound. Other than on the few occasions when I had used Internet porn to assist me masturbate, I had never seen a shaved pussy before; I was not sure whether I preferred that to my trimmed bush.
My fingers involuntarily slid along Lindsay's pussy lips and I was surprised by how warm and wet her pussy was. Oddly, of all the times I had done that to myself that had not struck me before.
"Yes Ellen, yes" Lindsay groaned pushing her stomach forward.
"What?"
"Fuck me, finger fuck me."
I felt strong, powerful, controlling and yes, I suppose, dominant as two of my fingers slid inside Lindsay and immediately she started to come. She wrapped her arms round my neck and pressed her tits against my face as I, without even thinking, started to use my fingers as a surrogate cock. It was an awesome experience to give her an orgasm.
The afternoon and evening went on and on. Gradually we got round to doing all the things I had seen two women do together when I had reluctantly at first, but then more avidly watched lesbian porn.
We rubbed our nipples and breasts together and let our nipples tease each other.
My hair appointments have not been the same since that amazing afternoon.
3 months ago
