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 Four
The following Tuesday, Valerie came round for tea and a chat. She invited me round to "Petite soirée" on the following Saturday. Her sister and her husband were visiting from Battersea, South London, She had asked a couple of the neighbours round for what looked to be a very pleasant social evening.
I found my only posh frock, from a long-ago office dinner and dance that had cost me almost a fortnight’s wages at the big Biba shop in Kensington. White with black polka dots and a loose ruff at the neck. Very clinging and close fitting, it had a very long zipper at the back. It actually came with a hooked nylon rod that enabled a lady to pull the zipper up from somewhere near her bottom. I was pleased that it still fitted me, and took it to be cleaned.
That Saturday I fussed around with my hair, brushing it several times and eventually pinning it back with a couple of clips with black velvet bows. I found a pair of dark grey hold up stockings, some black lacy knickers and a medium heel pair of black shoes.
Wiggling into the dress, I zipped up and went to look out of my bedroom window to see if any guests were arriving next door.
There seemed to be no activity so I went into my front garden to check, I could hear voices, but it was a little chilly and almost immediately I felt my nipples come to attention. Not wanting to be remembered as the girl who poked everybody’s eyes out I slipped back indoors, unzipped, found the bra that went with the knickers and put it on, zipped up, tidied my hair and went next door.
There was a couple waiting at the door as I walked up the front path, this turned out to be the sister and her husband. She turned out to be a sour-faced miserable woman, completely different from her sister. Her husband was the soul of the party type, cheerful and full of chat. She kept a close eye on him, and a couple of times when he tried to speak to me, she pulled him away.
Later on, he followed me into the kitchen when I went to make coffee. He held my face between his hands and kissed me, when I didn’t push him away he slid his hands down my back grabbing my bottom and pulling my cheeks apart pushed his crotch into mine. I gave him a gentle slap and told him not to be naughty. Throughout the rest of the evening, whenever I looked at him he smiled and winked. I wasn’t annoyed, just surprised.
It dawned on me that there had probably been some sisterly chat about me, which accounted for his eagerness and her attitude towards me. Valerie later told me that her sister had left him, due to his multiple affairs. So I had been just another victim of his super charged sex drive, and of course she had reason to be as she was.
Valerie had certainly put on a good buffet spread for us, and there was an excess of wine on top of what the guests had brought with them, with several bottles of fizz in the fridge. I certainly over indulged and even the sister lightened up after several glasses of bubbly.
The other guests were lovely, a young couple who lived down the road, and a lady I recognised as our doctor’s receptionist and her husband, and a mature couple who seemed to know Val and Paul very well indeed, and who I suspected were part of their sex party circle. I had seen them about but never had spoken to them. I had a long conversation with this last couple, who seemed very interested in my life story, it was almost like a job interview, they just never made it clear what the job was. It was actually a good mix of people and the buzz lasted all evening.
The sister and her wayward husband left first, they had to drive back to south London, he was the only sober one there. As we did air kisses goodbye, he had a sneaky cup of my breast.
The other guests started leaving about midnight. I stayed behind to help clear up and then wandered into the living room to find my little clutch bag and my door keys. Valerie followed me into the room and taking hold of my hands in hers asked me if I would stay the night with them. I think I said ‘Yes please’, but the decision passed out of my hands as Paul had come up behind me and unzipped my dress right the way down, unclipped my bra and within seconds I was standing there in knickers, stockings and shoes. She crouched down and pulled down my knickers and slid my shoes off. I had totally surrendered myself to them, to do with me what they wished. I don’t think it was the wine, it came from deep inside.
Once again, I was led upstairs with him behind me with a hand between my legs. Strangely I seem to remember my main concern was that my kitten wasn’t as clean as my mother would have wished. The wine had had its effect, and I had had to pee two or three times in the evening, and although I am scrupulous about wiping and patting dry I was concerned that there would still be a pee smell. I needn’t have worried; he didn’t seem in the least concerned and dived straight in with his mouth between my legs. If I wasn’t clean when he started, I was spotless by the time he had finished.
It was the first time I had been in their bedroom, their bed was vast, it must have been a super king-size and could easily take five or six people, and probably had. I have an extraordinarily good memory for dates and events, almost as if I was replaying an old video tape in my head, but I can only remember a confusion of kissing, caressing, licking and sucking and a lot of laughter, but I do remember despite the haze of excitement and too much wine, him ending up on his back with her sitting on his face and most of his penis in my mouth. She pulled me to her and gave me a huge kiss and then arranged me so I was sitting astride him. She reached into the bedside cabinet and produced a tube of lubricant, and smeared his penis with a handful and another between my legs.
Taking my hands in hers she pulled me to her again and kissed me, then grabbing his penis she started rubbing the tip of it backwards and forwards from my clitoris to my bottom. I was in a turmoil, on the verge of a huge orgasm and I’m sure I was begging her to put it inside me. Eventually she lodged it at the entrance of my vagina, and taking my hands again, supported me as I slowly lowered myself onto him. I suppose because of the effects of the wine, the lubricant, and the very exciting sexual situation I was relaxed and there was no pain or discomfort. I could feel myself opening to him until he was completely inside me. There was a moment of discomfort as he pushed against my cervix, but that soon went as she pulled me to her and kissed me again and I found I could rub my clitoris on his pubic bone.
He started to move under me, pushing in and out of me and suddenly with a couple of hard thrusts he was ejaculating inside me. It was the most wonderful feeling I had ever experienced and it tipped me over the edge into a most powerful orgasm. This was followed by a huge wave of affection for him, I wanted to wind my arms and legs around him and hold him inside me forever but she was still rubbing herself on his face so I just put my arms around her shoulders and had a little weep as she began to make her familiar little squeaks and gasps and moans as she climaxed, but too late, as I could feel him slipping out of me.
There was a brief moment of silence then she started her infectious giggling which set us off. She insisted on going downstairs for some bubbly, and at last he held me in his arms, stroking my body, giving me loads of little kisses all over, and telling me how beautiful and wonderful I was, which was just what I needed. She came back with three champagne glasses and we toasted my lost virginity. I think ‘better late than never’ was the general sense of the moment. We then cuddled up and went to sleep, he spooning me, and me with my arm round her and my head on her shoulder.
When I woke up it was still dark, probably three or four o’clock. He was holding my breasts and kissing the back of my neck. I naturally turned over and put my arms around him and suddenly I was on my back with my knees in the air and him pushing inside me again. I was still very wet down there from the lubricant and his previous ejaculation as well as my own natural juices and he slid in easily. I was wonderfully helpless, pinned to the bed, It felt like he was trying to drill into my spine. There was a wave of discomfort as he was again pushing quite hard repeatedly against my cervix but that soon passed as very quickly he was moaning on top of me, and I felt the wonderful soothing wash of his semen inside me. This time I was able to wind my arms and legs around him and hold him inside me. We had obviously woken Val up, she had turned on a bedside lamp and was watching us, I held out my hand to her. There I was, with her husband deep inside me and his semen in my belly, I really wanted her approval, but she seemed a little distant.
It was daylight when I woke again, I could hear the shower going and the rattle of someone busy in the kitchen. One of my stockings was around my knee . I sat on the edge of the bed and removed it. Wandering over to the window and pulling the curtains back I could see Val's immaculate garden. I was surprised to see that because of the alignment of the houses and a tree she had, I could only see the bottom half of my garden. I had always assumed her windows overlooked my garden. Turning round I noticed my other stocking tangled in the bed sheets.
Naked with stockings clasped in my hand I slipped downstairs. I recovered my shoes from behind one of the easy chairs and pulling my dress on, zipping up as best I could. With my bag, keys, panties, stockings and bra in my hand, I went into the kitchen and found Val tidying up the debris from the previous evening. I gave her a big hug and thanked her for the wonderful evening. I was expecting her to ask me to stay longer but she seemed a little cool towards me. I suddenly realised I had been neglecting her feelings and although she was the instigator of my new life, she was jealous both of his use of me but also of my willingness to take him and exclude her. I decided to deal with that at a later date, right then I needed to get next door to my own house in my dishevelled state before the rest of the street was up and about.
Safe indoors, I went straight upstairs, stripped off again and went straight into the bathroom. With one leg on the bath stool and my makeup mirror I examined my vagina. It was obviously still very wet, apart from a little redness it looked quite normal. I was able to slide a couple of fingers inside easily to check for blood but nothing. I had a much-needed pee, which did sting a bit, my poor old urethra had taken quite a bashing and wasn’t used to such treatment, a lovely shower and settled down in my own little bed to think about the events of the night.
I think the absolute wonder was the effect the absorption of his semen had on me, I hadn’t expected that, orr how cool his semen felt as he ejaculated deep inside me. I had also learned that although I hadn’t orgasmed the second time he took me, the feeling of him moving inside me, coupled with the fact that I was completely under his control had been unbelievably enjoyable.
I had always thought of myself as very independent, it came as a bit of a shock that I had the underlying need to be possessed and used by another person, but I felt overwhelmingly euphoric. At the back of my mind was Valerie’s new coldness towards me, I felt a little hurt.
I woke up in the early afternoon, the euphoria not at all affected by the stain on my bottom sheet, I just threw it in the washing machine and had another shower. That night getting ready for bed I noticed from the stain on my clean white panties that I was still leaking. Obviously keeping kitten clean would be a constant battle if I was to have a full sex life. I made a note to add panty liners to my mental shopping list.
I realised that although I might not be one of my mother’s ‘fallen women’, if I continued to receive regular treatment from Paul’s fat appendage I was on my way to become, like poor Val, a ‘loose woman’.