We Meet at Last

Today was the day I had been dreaming of for weeks, today was the day that I was to actually meet Kirsty: we had made love many times spiritually but tonight would be different, we would be lovers physically and I was already dribbling with anticipation. Actually this was quite a problem, I had had much to prepare before Kirsty arrived and I kept having to break off to squeeze my thighs together and rotate my pelvis in an effort to ward of my increasing feelings of frustration, an emotion manifesting itself as a gooey sensation in my groin. I dared not touch myself and I so badly needed to but I was saving myself for Kirsty. I wanted her to feel my raw desire when we excited one another for the very first time and I wanted her to share the full extent of my joy when she granted me release.

Never had I dared to imagine this could happen but then circumstances change. Well hubby wanted to take the kids camping and I flatly refused to go with them; I've been camping with him once before, I was cold, I was damp, I was dirty, I was smelly and I told him then, 'never again, ever'. He announced 'we', that is the family, were going anyway with or without me and that was that, and my little sweet traitors ceased the main chance and backed him up: I was miffed and, in a fit of pique, invited Kirsty to join me for the weekend. When she accepted, well it was than that I really did begin to wonder what expressing my love of another woman would feel like. I was not simply bi-curious anymore, I knew that only too well, just lacking any experience what-so-ever of another woman. I was a little bit scared and a lot apprehensive.

Kirsty, well she plainly knew what she was about; our hot messages exchanged during long evenings of mutual masturbation had proven that and I quickly succumbed to temptation and curiosity. Kirsty? Kirsty had been my online lover for months, We had met through a site devoted to an odd mixture of erotic storytelling and sexually explicit on-line messaging; sometimes very sexually explicit. Literotica.com if you are wondering. After all the fantastic orgasms we had shared together I knew in my heart that I wanted Kirsty and wanted her badly.

As I drove to the local railway station to meet her I ran over my preparations for the thousandth time, I so wanted everything to be perfect. I was so wet and my little heart was hammering. Our online love making, initially sweet and sensuous had progressed by degrees to the more outrageous as my, and probably also her, confidence had grown. Once acquainted, and providing that all went well, we had decided to explore how some of our increasingly lurid fantasies would work out in reality. I were to lead and she to follow, a simple extension of the pattern that seemed to have established itself during our on-line loving anyway. Perhaps foolishly, Kirsty had agreed to place herself in my hands from the instant she arrived until the second she departed. It was foolish of her because she knew that I could be creative and daring in my own quiet way and that I had a joy of sexual teasing; she was going to be so randy when I was done with her. Moreover, she seemed only capable enjoying one orgasm at a time and this was a mould I hoped to break, I wanted her to experience the wonder of orgasm following orgasm and revel in the deep satisfaction that ensued after.

I digress; I meant to describe my preparations. Kirsty loved cake, well she said she did. I hoped that were still true. I had baked a lemon drizzle cake, a carrot cake and a huge all chocolate sponge. Why all chocolate? Well now: the sponge was flavoured with chocolate, the cream was chocolate cream and the icing was chocolate icing, the only escape from chocolate was a layer of black cherry jam somewhere in it; my schokoladenwäldertorte a sickly sweet nod to its more famous relative, the fabulous schwarzwälder kirschtorte. Then there was coffee, and tea of course; I forgot to mention we were not going to use the whole of the house but hide ourselves away in the play area that I had transformed the cellar into. It was snug and cosy, it was quiet and private and somewhere we would not be disturbed.

The cellar was actually self contained, there was the vast play area which I has spent all day re-arranging. The toys and trappings of the children were now stacked up neatly in boxes, in the garage and the wooden floor was covered in rugs and the giant floor cushions the children used to take their naps on when they were small. In a corner was a large brass bed that usually lain dismantled, under our bed. Two comfortable chairs, one armed the other not lay against one wall. The cupboards were bare, well apart from my meagre collection of sex-toys, some towels and a few other bits and bobs I had gathered together. Finally I had managed to muster five quite large mirrors that were placed around strategically, I love to watch myself masturbate and hoped that Kirsty was of a similar mind. She certainly liked to watch and could always recommend an arousing video when ever called upon to do so.

The play area was not the only room in the cellar, there was a small kitchen: a sink, a fridge-freezer, a small hob and a microwave, one that baked and grilled and did just about anything and everything else that a cooking box could. In addition, there was a bathroom, well except that there was no bath in it. There was a small partition to keep the toilet itself separate and a small wash basin in the opposite corner, otherwise the bathroom was one huge shower. What possessed me to have it built it I do not know. I thought the kids would find it fun, and so they did, but the amount of water and electricity it consumed was simply outrageous. They were only allowed 'the big shower' on high days and holidays, otherwise just one of the many jets was actually turned on. Thus, if well stocked with provisions, the cellar was truly self contained and once Kirsty and I fastened the door behind us there was no reason for us to re-emerge until it was time for her to go.

My last tasks had been to re-stock the fridge, the freezer and the larder for two grow-ups. They were crammed with delicacies. Some of these were distinctly adult: a dozen oysters, smoked salmon, quail eggs, olives, exotic cheeses, Parma ham, giant prawns. Other goodies were childish: ice cream, six different flavours thereof, jellies, blancmanges, bags of Haribo, liquorice all-sorts, dolly mixtures. Finally there were the prosaic but nutritionally sound items: baked beans in tomato sauce, eggs, potatoes, bread, butter, jam. Yes, for almost a whole three days nothing needed to disturb or worry us, except possibly the urgency of our needs and the darkness of our own desires.

Kirsty was easy to spot as she alighted from her train, true she was a year or so older than in her photo but she had retained the soft round face, the cute little nose and thick sultry lips I had gazed upon so often. She was so bold to share her face with me on-line, a thing I would never dare to do, especially not with hubby in the job he was. The black shoulder length hair and dark brown eyes that I had so looked forwards to seeing were there, just as in the picture and the rather serious pout she had in the pose was replaced by a cheerful smile. As her other, rather saucier, photo had indicated her breasts were definitely larger than mine, and mine were a not an ungenerous handful. I found myself lusting over them immediately, I had a strong urge to bury my head between them and kiss them. The truth was, a strong desire to kiss all of her had already overwhelmed me. I calmed myself, soon enough I whispered to myself, soon enough and I could and would have all of her whilst she helped herself to all of me.

Who did Kirsty see? She was met by a woman rather older than she, not her mother but clearly never to be mistaken for a girl again, an older sister perhaps? A woman with rather short plain, many would say mousy, hair, merry twinkling eyes, more grey than blue but rather thin lips that endowed her with a slightly sever aspect. Her figure was a little overweight but not by much, a pear rather than an apple and whilst not tall, she was of above average in height. It was their dress that contrasted most. The more matronly of the pair, me, was wearing a simple woollen knee length skirt in a rather toneless brown, a brown woolly cardigan that looked and was home made, hand knitted if you asked me, and an ivory, pure silk, blouse that had cost every bit as much as its appearance suggested. Her friend or kid sister, Kirsty of course, was dressed in a jacket, jeans and a simple top, and was lugging a shapeless bag.

Kirsty you goose, I thought to myself, I told you 'just bring a toothbrush and your door keys'. You soon won't be needing any clothes at all but I expect you had not quite thought of it like that; when I said you need bring nothing but yourself I don't suppose you realised I was being quite literal. I even had a spare toothbrush ready for you, just in case. We hugged, at first a shade gingerly, a little nervousness was to be expected upon our first meeting, but we soon lost the shyness of strangers, slipped into a fierce embraced and clutched one another with a passion. As soon as I felt your warm body press against mine and especially your breasts squashing against mine, all my reserve melted away and I squeezed you more and more tightly. Our heads pulled back and we gazed at one another, the same question in out minds; shall I kiss her?

"Wait," I whispered, before our kissing happened spontaneously, "I do want to kiss you now but let's save it for later, leave it awhile and kiss when we can appreciate one another fully. You looked a little disappointed, but cast away whatever troubled you with a slight shrug and, possibly a small sigh. I showed you to my car, a grubby Lexus badly in need of a wash leather, "don't really approve of a second car," I explained as I caught your puzzled glance, "but I'd get nowhere without one and that would be too dull."

"No," you reassured me it's not that. "I dunno. Are you sure about all of this?"

"Certain," I smiled, "unless you have doubts, want to back off, maybe just share a quiet weekend together getting to know one another better." I bit my lip and prayed you would refuse my offer, and thankfully you did. Indeed, my suggestion of applying the brakes seemed to cause you to press your foot down more firmly upon the accelerator.

As I drove my head split in two. There was what I was saying, the usual banal questions about your journey. A conversation between two people who are newly met yet who've already shared extraordinary intimacy: a little nervous, a little uncertain, a little dazed, a little confused. A conversation that proceeds in fits and starts, long silences broken by mutual interruptions and then both of us apologising to one another with excessive politeness, insisting the other's point must be the more important.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"It was nothing, you wanted..."

"Oh that didn't matter, it was stupid but you were about to make a point..."

What I was thinking was totally different and did little for my concentration. 'My God she's beautiful, so bumptious, so scrumptious, so cuddly and snuggly and... I want to rip her clothes off and kiss her, to eat her, to gobble her up and swallow her down. Where to kiss her first though? Kiss her on the lips. But which lips? Suck her nipples, kiss the inside of her thighs, nibble her ear lobes, nuzzle her neck, smell the sweet scent of her over excited pussy. My God I am so wet. I wonder if she is as wet as me. I hope she is as wet as me, I really do. What ever does she think of the old woman she's just met. I'm not that bad, I've only about ten years on her, not that old really. But ten years more lines and my figure's never been the same since the kids and my breasts aren't so, so pneumatic as hers. I hope she stays. I hope she fancies me. I do so want to come already. In my head I was all of a lather, my thoughts in turmoil as I attempt to police what was slipping out of my mouth.

You were as bad, I later realised, blurting out all about your lesbianism like a young hopeful desperately trying to demonstrate their street-cred to long-standing gang member. Telling me what a bad girl you must be to watch so much porn and confessing your slutishness. Well the videos you shared with me certainly got me going and I've never been keen on porn before: that French one, the two women in the bathroom, that was so sexy. I still play that, wish it were us, you sat on the loo so passive, whilst I make you come; I watch, spread my legs, let my hand slide over my wet pussy and... That thought brought me back to my senses, in a few minutes it really could be me bringing you to an orgasm just as sweet as that one appeared to be. If I stopped being silly I could have all that; at long last you were no longer at the end of a wire but right here at my side. And you, after you had recovered you would give me that orgasm I had been dreaming of: not my hand making me come as I pretended it were yours but your actual hand, your probing fingers expertly tweaking and twisting until I melted with delight.

As I locked the car I thought for the thousandth time that fateful Friday, 'God I am so wet today.' Then I giggled as I reminded myself, 'I've told you a million times, don't exaggerate'. "Come in," is what I said, holding the front door ajar for you. "I hope you don't mind but I thought we'd use the kid's little nest in the basement, it's ever so quiet and warm and cosy and we won't be interrupted. Leave your stuff here, you won't need any of it; well just a toothbrush and I even have a spare one of those downstairs; just in case you know."

You entered, looking around inquisitively, studying the room, just a hall with stairs off, nothing special. And you also scrutinise me for the first time in a clear light, also nothing special but I hope you don't notice that. or at least don't mind it. You are far prettier than I had first realised, soft pale skin, almost translucent. You make a tentative step toward me, I read anxiety and lust in your expression, your gestures suggest embracement, your look a fear of rejection.

"Wait," I husk. "Wait. I want to hold you, to hug you, to kiss you; yes kiss you hard on the mouth, savour those sultry, pouting lips of yours, taste your tongue pressing on mine but wait a few minutes more. We only get one first kiss and I want ours to be a naked one, breast mashed against breast, thigh locked with thigh, hands kneading and squeezing buttocks; a kiss that hints at passion but screams with lust."

You paused deep in thought. You were uncertain, I realised that I was probably going too fast for you, but the volcano building in my panties was clouding my thoughts; if men think with their dicks then I was thinking with my clit. I had never before, not in my whole life, felt such a physical hunger for any person as I did for you right then and there. Suddenly the sun came out, you smiled, a broad smile, a happy carefree grin, you had reached your decision. You didn't need to tell me what it was, I could see the answer written on your face as plain as day; it was yes, yes please, please with pretty bows and candy on it, yes to all of it, yes to everything. You had committed yourself.

"We can leave our clothes here," and I opened a closet containing just a couple of coats. I had emptied it completely earlier but that looked too odd, too staged, unnervingly unnatural. You took off your jacket and I hung it up for you as you then tugged at your top, your insecurity and uncertainty back on show. Taking a deep breath you begin to loosen the few buttons it had and tug it over your head. Hastily, to offer you some encouragement and strengthen your resolve, I being to unfasten my blouse. My breasts were the first to tumble free in the end but yours followed rapidly, your nipples dark pink and swollen, a tiny mole to one side of the left one. I had to swallow hard to resist the impulse to sweep you up in my arms and hug and kiss you until we were breathless and panting. Fortunately, you were already doubled over right then, wrestling with you boots, haste making your fingers clumsy. With only my sensible shoes, and boring hose to remove I was almost naked first, and stood admiring how, as you fumbled with your jeans, you oozed sex. I wanted you, I needed you, I wanted to hear you come, come hard as I licked and fondled your white flesh and tasted your lust gushing as you writhed in ecstasy on my tongue.

Dropping my skirt left me naked and just in time to kneel before you and to pull your pants down for you. It took all my willpower to stop myself from burying my face in your bush and kissing those other lips; as I knelt naked before you I could smell you odour and it was the scent of sex, that musky perfume of a woman in heat. To distract myself, as much as anything, I grabbed your hand and towed you to the door of the cellar. We stood at the top of the wooden steps covered by the practical carpet runner that has been made, in places, just a little threadbare by the eager feet of the kids, looking at one another. "Are you ready for this?" I quizzed you.

"Oh God yes," you husked in response and we descended. I shut the top door and locked it quickly before I followed you down, hiding the key next to the door. The lower door I bolted from the inside so there was no danger of us being disturbed. I grabbed your hand once again and towed you to the centre of the room.

"Let's just stand right here and kiss now," I whispered urgently. You did not even trouble to reply but instantly enfolded me in your arms, your lips parted, your breath hot in my face, I thought you were going to suck me in. That kiss, that first real physical kiss; moist, a passionate heat, pulsing lips searing mine, a hot probing tongue scorching my tongue, exploring and being explored, searching and seeking, sweet saliva mingling, a descent from carnal sensuality, through unguarded passion right down to unbridled lust. Where, in those long moments, did I go to? Somewhere warm and pink, somewhere soft and cuddly, somewhere all safe and cosy, time was suspended as it raced past us; pounding heart, rushing blood, a pulse throbbing in my ear. Your breasts pressing against mine, my nipples hardening as your flesh rubbed over them, an urgency suspended. My sex was flooding; I wanted to couple wantonly on the floor, rut with you like an animal; I never wanted to move again, to stay frozen in your arms, mouth forever welded to mouth.

As we kissed we fell to our knees, dragged down by the weight of our needs, simply wishing to drown in our lust. Your urgency was palpable, your desperate need broadcasting itself on all frequencies yet you too could not escape from the passion of that first embrace; you could no more pull back than I. We fell over, tumbled, rolled and still our mouths remained locked together, lips bonded to lips. When, finally, we did bring ourselves to part, chests heaving, blood racing, hearts thumping, our eyes gleamed with anticipation. All of a sudden my mouth was on you nipples; licking, sucking, biting, suckling, nipping; I must of hurt you but you were as oblivious as I. Under your tempestuous ministrations my sex melted and I realised that your attack on my tight little nubs, red as berries, stiff as thimbles, was just as frenzied as mine was upon yours, yet I had no sense of hurt as you nipped and bit. I was giddy with wanting, dizzy with need and my tongue soon traced down the middle of your belly seeking out your lust scented cleft. My nostrils were quickly filled with a perfume of musk and mild soap, I wanted to taste your need, drink your desires and quell your desperate urges.

When you told me you came quickly I had taken it to be polite exaggeration on your part; as my tongue pressed against your clitoris and slid over that slick red protuberance, swollen as it was with desire, I heard you cry out suddenly as if unexpectedly impaled upon a long lance. But it was no scream of pain, oh no, it was a howl of utter carnality, the sigh of a fire being extinguished, the cry of a primordial urge being satisfied. I redoubled my efforts, my fingers scrabbling for the cleft of your sex, seeking to tease that tiny inner spot that would take you yet higher still but I was thwarted. You recovered control quickly and were soon lashing my clitoris with your tongue, I was suddenly absorbed by a radiant bliss, engulfed in a searing white light blinding me to awareness of anything but my climax. An orgasm of a power and intensity I had never imagined possible boiled through me making my frame shake, my legs twitch, my throat constrict and my tongue loll. I lost control, all my consciousness focused within a pleasure that was perfection itself. When utter delight ceased it was replaced by an enduring contentment. As I lay panting, exhausted by the strength of my satisfaction, my nose was pressed to your fuzzy muff drinking in your heady scent of lust dissipated, I was intoxicated. And you? Your nose tickled the hairs of my sex, you too were sucking in air greedily, you also lay sprawled out, too relaxed to move, to abstracted to wish to.