When my mother died in my arms I experienced a breakdown. During counselling I was advised to keep a journal, recording all the incidents in my life, and the resulting subsequent thoughts and feelings. The following stories are based on extracts from my journal concerning my experience of sexual relationships in later life.
Chapter Two
One day Valerie came round to do my hair with a bottle of gin and a bottle of Schweppes in her equipment bag, I sorted out glasses and some ice from the freezer and we sampled our first gin and tonic of the day while she did my hair.
She produced a little camera, one of the new digital type, that her husband had bought her for her birthday, and asked if she could take a few photos of a flowering shrub in my garden, a kind she had not seen before, a Japonica I think she said. By this time, we were on our third gin and we trouped out laughing and giggling into the garden. I was wearing just my pink dressing gown and white panties with pink fluffy flip flop slippers and her hairdressing cape still around my shoulders. She took several photos of the bush. I bent down to smell the blossoms and the cape slipped off my shoulders, I made a grab for it and my dressing gown fell open and she took a couple of shots of my breasts and me struggling to regain composure.
We fell about laughing and went back to the house to refresh our gins. She was saying how beautiful I was and how fat and ugly she was, and of course, I was saying how lovely she was. We eventually had a look at the snaps she had taken in the garden, those of the flowers were beautiful but the couple of me were blurred. She went a bit quiet and then asked if she could take a few more photos of me to replace the garden ones. By this time, we were on our fourth gin and I was merry, to say the least, so I agreed.
Well, we started in my hallway, somehow, and I don’t remember how I had lost my panties.
I let her take complete control of me, she told me how to stand and adjusted my dressing gown and snapped away with her little camera. After a break for another gin we headed upstairs to my bedroom. It seemed quite natural for her to get undressed, we just lay on my bed and she held me. I felt the warmth of another human body against mine for the first time, it was the most erotic feeling I had ever had up to that time.
I was laying on my back with my dressing gown open, my head resting on one of her arms. She put her other hand on my cheek and gently pulled me towards her and kissed me, her lips were warm and soft and she ran her tongue gently over the inside of my lips and flicked it against the tip of my tongue. This was, except for the little pecks I used to share with my mother, my first kiss and it was wonderful, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it as her hand was exploring my body, cupping my breast and teasing my nipple, and really before I realised what she was doing, she pushed her hand between my thighs and was holding me there very gently, and then suddenly she slid down and was nuzzling between my thighs, I went to push her away because although I had showered that morning, I had peed several times since then what with the tea I had drunk and the gin, and although I had dabbed myself dry with tissue, I didn’t feel 100% clean there; I could hear my mother telling me to keep my kitten clean.
Valerie carried on regardless, and was licking me from my bottom hole to my clitoris, I very quickly felt the beginning of an orgasm building, much more intense than the feeling whilst masturbating. I felt her slide a finger into my vagina as she licked me, which was nice, but I think she got carried away and suddenly pushed two or three fingers into me, which hurt, and I squealed and pulled away. She was totally dismayed by my reaction and holding my face between my hands she showered my face with kisses then held me tight to her whispering how sorry she was. After a while we both dozed off.
When I woke, I found our positions reversed. I was laying with my head on her shoulder and an arm round her waist, I eased myself up onto my other elbow and just looked at her, the first naked person I had ever seen, comparing her body to mine. She was a little butter ball, plump and pink. My breasts, then, were small and had begun to sag slightly but still quite firm resembling a large apple or small grapefruit, unless I was going out somewhere I didn’t usually bother to wear a bra. Her breasts seemed enormous to me like watermelons and as she lay there on her back they had travelled towards her armpits. My nipples are small and pink but very sensitive to temperature and as I had just discovered to touch. Her nipples were big and brown with huge areola, they were also relatively unresponsive as I was to find out. I later noticed she had a pink line under her breasts, a crease that sometimes gave her trouble becoming sore on occasion. She was very hairy. I have very little body hair, I have never had to shave my legs or armpits and my pubic hair was pale blonde fuzz and sparse, only as I got older did it darken and I must today admit to a couple that are grey. He pubic hair was very dark and a mass of curls from just below her belly button to her thighs and as I was to discover as I got to explore her more round to her bottom and even a few on her lower back.
I leant over and kissed her to wake her, she smiled and guided my hand up to her breast, and with her hand over mine guided me over her body. I noticed her nipples were very soft and didn’t seem to react as mine did. On a cold day my nipples stand out like little fingers, hers didn’t harden at all. She pulled my hand down between her legs and because she had very generous thighs, she had to open her legs quite a bit so she could push my hand right onto her vagina. It was quite a contrast, the coarse feel of her hair and suddenly the smooth wet almost oily feel of her secret lips. I am very tidy down there, my inner labia are quite small and are normally hidden by the outer set, I found she was very loose and there seemed to be a lot of extra skin down there. Initially she was guiding my hand showing me how she liked to be touched, which wasn’t too different to how I liked things, so eventually she let me go free-lance.
As I touched her deeper, I found I could slip two or three fingers inside her quite easily. I could have probably pushed my whole hand into her but she started to push my head down towards her vagina. It was too much too soon, I wasn’t ready for that. I pulled back and instead I just lay with my head on her tummy with my fingers teasing her clitoris and sliding up and down between her labia and into her vagina. She began to push her hips to meet my fingers and then began to have an extremely loud orgasm.
Afterwards we just lay there looking at each other a little shyly and suddenly burst into a fit of giggling. Neither of us were lesbian, it was just a case of two friends more or less accidentally sharing something special. I couldn’t imagine doing that with another woman nor do I have the urge to do so. Because of the shock I felt when she had tried to push extra fingers into me she hadn’t gone on to bring me to orgasm. I think I must have still had a bit of tough old hymen down there that she had torn. She did afterwards take a couple of more photographs of me trying to do artistic poses at the top of my stairs whilst she was standing naked below me, and in one there you can see just a small bead of blood sitting in my vagina, so she had so to speak finally tore along the dotted line, and opened me up.
We chatted together the next few days over the garden fence quite normally, and at the weekend she said she had ordered some prints of the photographs at the camera shop in Chingford Road, and would bring them with her on Wednesday when as normal she would come and do my hair, but we agreed that gin would be a no-no!
On Tuesday evening I was bringing in some washing from the garden when I noticed her husband in their garden, he waved to me and gave me a strange half smile. When I went back in with my basket of dry washing it suddenly struck me that she had collected the photo prints and had shown them to her husband. I went hot and cold, quite annoyed, but strangely excited.
The next morning she phoned to say she would be calling after lunch, I wondered if something was wrong as she usually came round in the morning. Then I realised she was as much on tenterhooks as I was and was just plucking up courage, we had not spoken about our little romp and it was going to probably be a difficult situation.
I needn’t have worried, I had a late shower and slipped into my dressing gown and got downstairs just as she was at the front door. She was her normal bubbly self, we went into my lounge where I had as normal put a dining room chair on a bath towel to keep any stray hair on of the carpet, I sat down and she put her cape over my shoulders and worked her magic, As she combed, brushed and snipped away at my hair I revelled in her closeness, she was chatting away about everything other than the thing that was on our minds.
When she had finished, I stood up to check myself in the large mirror above the fireplace. She had arranged my hair in a plaited curl on top of my head, this had the effect of tensioning the skin on my face like a facelift and I looked much younger than before. She stood behind me and removed the cape, throwing it onto the chair. She said I looked lovely and came and stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.
I watched in the mirror as she gently kissed my neck and slid her hands down my arms pulling the top of my dressing gown down as she did so, pinning my arms against my body until I stood naked to the waist watching her hands stroking my breasts and teasing my nipples as they hardened. She undid the belt of my dressing gown and it fell in the floor, and she whispered for me to open my legs for her, I took the opportunity to take a step or two back until I could see myself better in the mirror and stood with my legs apart and watched in a detached way as her hands travelled over my body. She cupped my vulva with one hand with one or two fingers pushing into my vagina, quite easily on this occasion, and her other hand mostly on my breasts until she pressed a finger quite firmly on the back of my neck and ran it down my spine, between the cheeks of my bottom and onto the entrance to my anus where she pressed gently in rhythm to the fingers that were making my vagina very wet. I found myself gently swaying backwards and forwards to meet the fingers in my vagina and then pushing back against the finger pressing onto my anus. At one point her finger did penetrate a little into me, and I shuffled forward as I thought it was going to hurt.
I was actually in quite a euphoric state as she took hold of my arm and led me over to my settee. I suddenly found myself on my back with my knees on my shoulders and her face buried in my vulva where she was starting to make long licks from the place where the errant finger had been and around the entrance to my vagina, ending at my clitoris where she was nibbling with her lips. She started off measured and slow but gradually grew more urgent, I felt her tongue pushing into me, I was so wet.
I could feel my body tensing up and I knew I was on the brink of a massive orgasm, when she suddenly stood up, slipped of her jogging bottoms, swung me round so I was lying lengthwise along the sofa and lay on top of me with her lips and tongue once more exploring my vulva and vagina and her vulva an inch above my nose. I was so far gone at that stage that I had lost all inhibitions and grabbing a cushion to put under my head I dived in. She smelt warm and womanly like fresh bread with a touch of Johnson’s baby talc, and she tasted like salty caramel. I copied all the things she was doing to me. I tried to hold her breasts but she still had her top and bra on. My orgasm was so intense, I was trying to get my legs around her head to force her face into me and I’m sure I was quite loud. My first orgasm shared with another person. She carried on licking and nibbling but it was too much for me and I had to cross my legs.
She sat up, basically sitting on my face, and pulled off her top and bra, so I could at last hold her breasts as best I could and tug and tease her nipples whilst she rubbed back and forth on my face with my tongue going wherever it could. Her orgasm was probably noisier than mine and she just collapsed onto me and we lay like that, head to toe, for a few minutes.
We needed a shower, so two happy, giggling, soapy women were crammed into my shower cubicle; and I must say the feel of someone playing a shower head jet onto your already over excited and swollen vulva is electric. Of course my hair was a mess so she had to tidy me up again, and my mirror was showing two slightly damp naked late middle aged ladies as happy as could be, and I hadn’t thought of my Mother once.
She confessed that after collecting the photographs from College Cameras she had left them on the kitchen work top whilst she answered a phone call and her husband had wandered in and gone through them. This confirmed what I had thought after he gave me that strange look in the garden. I gave her a hug and told her not to worry.
I suppose I was very naïve, and looking back I think I was being groomed. Lovemaking with her became a regular and delightful part of my life, but increasingly she would tell me stories of the ‘special parties’ she and he took part in with a group of other couples.
Apparently there was one game that was played called ‘no rules ping-pong’ where everybody took a table tennis ball from a pillowcase and whoever picked the only yellow ball was the ‘mark’ for the evening. The ‘mark’ male or female would have to submit to everyone else at the party, and would do whatever that was demanded of him or her, with no rules, although I suspect that anyone who did anything completely outrageous or life threatening wouldn’t be invited to the next party.
Valerie had been the mark on several occasions and told me hair-raising stories of her adventures with two, three and on one occasion four party goers using her body at one time. I must admit that I found that prospect exciting. She also increasingly spoke about her husband when we were making love.
I remember on one occasion I was showing her some yoga poses. I was in the plough position where you support your weight on your shoulders and bring your legs over your head so your knees are just above your ears. She laughed and told me my vagina was wide open, (she didn’t say vagina – she was quite coarse sometimes) and if her husband was here, he would just slide into me. On another occasion she had managed to get us in a position where she was rubbing her vulva on mine, which was an amazing intimate feeling. and said ‘Paul would love to watch us doing this’.
From there it was a short step to her suggesting that he should watch and perhaps join our private sessions. I understand now that she was telling him everything we did. I realised that being made love to by a man would be different and perhaps more fulfilling, but I was reluctant. Eventually though she won me over and I agreed.