THE BRIDESMAIDS free porn video

Note: ——I am NOT the author!so plz Don't ask me about part two,am simply sharing

THE BRIDESMAIDS by lesley_tara
Introduction: The idea for this story came to me whilst watching on television the British

royal wedding in April 2011, and seeing Pippa Middleton’s sexy ass so gloriously

showcased in her stunning bridesmaid’s dress. If you have read my true story ‘What

Turns Me On’, you will know what a trim and jutting female butt does for me! As always,

the story is entirely fiction, and any resemblance to real persons or places is purely

coincidental.


copyright: Lesley Tara, 2011


She looked so delightful in her pale pink satin bridesmaid’s dress, its tightly-fitted cut

showing clearly the budding curves of her slender fifteen-and-a-half year old body –

her small pert breasts (an A cup at the most), her slim waist, her trim hips and her cute

bubble-butt. Helen was a very pretty and attractive teenager even in her everyday

jeans and T-shirts; in this classically-simple and elegantly-shaped sheath of satin, she

looked absolutely eatable – and I had plans to do just that.

We two had been the maids of honour at the marriage of my older sister, Samantha, to

Helen’s brother, James. The bride and groom had met four years ago when attending

the same university, and were now aged twenty-four. I am three years and four months

younger than Samantha, and a college student myself these days, but there is a much

wider gap of more than eight years between Helen and James. There are no other

siblings in either family, and so it was natural that my sister would ask Helen to act as

a bridesmaid as well.

The ceremony at the church had been beautiful and everything went very smoothly, so

Helen and I were feeling pleasurably satisfied and relieved. The whole party had come

back to this large hotel for the wedding ‘breakfast’ – actually a large buffet lunch – and

reception. This was now winding down: the speeches had been given, the toasts had

been made, and the guests were now mingling in a hubbub of conversation, whilst the

radiantly-happy new husband and wife circulated around the long function room. In the

early evening there was to be a party, with a disco for the younger generation, but

there would be an interval of a couple of hours before this, to let everyone digest the

lunch and catch their breath, to allow the hotel staff to clear the room and set it up for

dancing, and to give the bride and bridesmaids the opportunity to change their

dresses. James and Helen’s family and many of their relatives and friends were

staying at the hotel, and my parents – the hosts for the wedding – had also booked

rooms for themselves, Samantha and me, so that we could change into and out of our

wedding finery, and also stay overnight and not have to worry about driving home after

the party.

Helen and I were standing side-by-side together in a quiet corner of the big room, with

just the wall and a couple of potted palm trees behind us. We gazed at the throng,

chatting inconsequentially in the way that you do with someone with whom you feel in

tune, but don’t actually know very well – the town that the groom came from was nearly

a hundred miles away from London, where I grew up, and so Helen and I had only met

each other at the fittings for our bridesmaids outfits, for which she had come up by

train on a series of Saturday afternoons.

I glanced down at her and smiled, with the advantages of being three inches taller, four

bra sizes bigger and five years older. No one else was paying attention to us for a few

moments, and this seemed like the best opportunity to set things in motion. I leaned

closer to the pretty teenager and murmured in her ear:

‘Now that we are sisters-in-law, I really want to get to know you ...’

I paused for a second, and traced a finger horizontally across her back at waist level.

She gave a little gasp, and then a soft mewl of pleasure as I drew my fingernail back,

this time lower down, just under the curve of her sweetly jutting buttocks (as I know well,

this has a tantalisingly erogenous effect), whilst completing my sentence:

‘... intimately.’

Helen’s lips parted and I saw the tip of her tongue flick along to moisten them. She

turned slightly to look up at me; for a second, she nibbled her lower lip with her teeth,

looking suddenly even younger than her age, but what she saw in my warmly admiring

gaze evaporated any lingering doubts. She gave me a radiantly beaming smile and

slipped her hand into mine, giving it a confirming squeeze.

‘Oh, I would like that, Vicky – yes, I would like that very much!’ she whispered eagerly,

her eyes bright and her face slightly flushed with excitement.

‘Well’, I said, ‘we need to change out of these bridesmaids dresses – why don’t we do

that in my room, and then we can properly ... get acquainted?’

Helen swallowed and nodded, her nervousness due not to any fear of what might

happen in my bedroom, but rather a lingering residual doubt that it might not, that she

might be misreading my signals – unsubtle though they had certainly become. Still

holding her hand – for I had no intention of allowing anyone else an opportunity to cut in

and carry off this deliciously wholesome teen – I towed her through the crowd to where

my parents and hers were chatting amicably together.

‘Excuse me’, I interrupted politely; ‘Helen and I are going up now to get changed, and

maybe take a bath before the party.’ I made the latter point quite deliberately, to

account for us being gone for quite some time and to explain why we could not answer

if anyone came knocking at our doors. Helen’s mother nodded approvingly, saying that

she would take a rest herself in a few minutes; my mother enquired, rather vaguely, if

we would need some help with removing our bridesmaids outfits. I hastened to

reassure her:

‘Oh, no, don’t worry about that! If Helen brings a robe along to my room, we can

manage fine together, and then she can go back to hers – it’s only three doors down –

and have a soak in the tub or take a nap, whatever.’

Helen – the sweet thing – supported this by nodding vigorously (I don’t think she

trusted herself to speak at this stage), and both sets of parents smiled benignly at us

and waved us on our way – of course, with no idea of what I was intending that we

could ‘manage fine together’, and that Helen seemed to be looking forward to so

avidly. In fact, I had picked up a number of tell-tale signs during the fitting sessions for

our bridesmaids costumes, and so my pass at Helen had not been much of a gamble

– but it was still a relief to have had my suppositions so positively confirmed.

We trotted up the hotel staircase, lifting the hems of our long satin dresses as if we

had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel, and almost ran along the first-floor corridor to

my bedroom. Once inside, I quickly hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside

handle, and then closed the door and put the deadbolt on from the inside. I turned back

towards Helen, who was standing in the middle of the room, gazing at the double-bed

(this was one of the larger rooms); she was in profile to me, and I gazed again with

delight at her trim slender youthful silhouette, such a contrast to my own full swell of

breasts and hips.

As I came up behind her, she turned to face me and almost naturally came into my

arms, so that my heavier E-cup breasts rested upon the top of her chest. She looked

up at me in silent question, and we both saw the desire in each other’s eyes. Her lips

were already parted and her eyes half-closed as I brought my mouth down to hers and

kissed her – slowly at first, and then with a fierce passion which she matched with a

hunger of her own. So the last threshold was crossed, for such a kiss could not be

dismissed as ‘sisterly’ affection – it was unmistakeable sexual lust. My hands slipped

down her back, cupping and then kneading her adorable ass; after only a few seconds

pause, she did the same to me. Although she was less assertive, I could sense the

pleasure with which she stroked my bottom, whilst her nipples hardened into rigid

prominent pinnacles which I could feel pressing into my softness through the thin satin

of her bridesmaid’s dress.

After a heady minute or two, I drew back and gazed at the teenager, and told her with

simple candour:

‘I want you ... you’re so pretty, I just want you so much!’

My directness was all the more arousing for the innocent teen, and she breathed softly

in reply:

‘Oh! ... please, yes ... please, Vicky, I think you’re wonderful ... oh, I want you too!’

The signs had been there at the fitting sessions in the wedding-dress designer’s shop,

in fact I had started to notice them from the first one. I know that I am an attractive

young woman, with my tumbling chestnut hair and deep hazel eyes with long lashes. I

have an even fuller figure than my sister, despite being younger, and my most striking

feature is undoubtedly my breasts – high, firm mounds of femininity which fill my 32E

bras and leave a deep cleavage. The flare of my hips and sway of my ass gives them

counterpoint, and with a fairly narrow waist I have something of an hour-glass profile.

When I arrived at the first fitting session, interested to meet my future sister-in-law and

companion maid-of-honour, I had deliberately worn a jersey wrap dress which draws

the eye to my breasts and accentuates my bust and cleavage; it then falls to a pleated

skirt which swirls around my knees, with an opening that parts to show an expanse of

leg with every step that I take. I had wanted to make a strong impression, and Helen’s

jaw dropped and her eyes widened in admiration when I first swept into the room and

gathered her up for a hug as introduction. My feeling that there might be the potential

here for something more than friendship began from noticing the way that she glanced

at me sidelong when she thought my attention was engaged elsewhere, and the look

on her face as her eyes lingered on my breasts and ass. This became even more

noticeable when I disrobed, and without being obvious about it I made sure that I did

so in ways that gave her plenty of eyefuls.

For the second fitting session, I arrived in one of my trademark outfits – one which has

pulled both pretty babes and experienced older women in the lesbian clubs and bars

of the city where I am studying at university. It is a combination of smart black boots

with stiletto heels, black hold-up stockings, a tight and very short black leather mini-

skirt, and a figure-hugging lambswool cowl-neck sweater in bright red, cinched tight

around the waist with a wide shiny-plastic black belt. The belt gives the thrust of my

bust even more striking visual impact, whilst the sweater is so thin and snug-fitting that

every outline of my underwired half-cup bra can be seen – a push-up, though my firm

breasts hardly need any extra lift.

Helen was simply saucer-eyed, and looked bowled over by my confident and stylish

sexy outfit. I had deliberately delayed my arrival, and was rewarded by the sight of her

standing on the small fitting stool in only her bra and panties – both sweetly demure

and plain in a light blue that went so well with her clear skin and long blonde hair. The

designer slipped a pinned-together early version of the dress over Helen, and she

stood as still as a statute whilst the measurements and adjustments were made – but I

knew that her eyes were tracking my every move. I kept where she could see me

easily, and slowly undressed – taking some time to fold each garment and put it on a

chair, so that she could see plenty. First to be removed were the belt and the sweater,

and I turned casually so that she had good views of my breasts and bra – the latter

being a skimpy concoction of black gauze and lace – from several angles. Next went

the skirt, and I know that I look magnificent in black boots, hold ups and scanty lingerie

– in the silence, I could hear Helen’s shaky indrawn breath, and I could almost smell

the dampening of her panties in a room which seemed suddenly much warmer. I pulled

off my boots, and then turned my back to her – affording her a splendid view of my ass

– whilst I rolled my stockings down my legs. Finally, I turned almost to face her and

undid my bra from behind, pulling it aside and stretching luxuriously – both revealing

my naked breasts and making them thrust and jiggle enticingly – whilst I made some

comment about it being hot and sticky in here, and how glad I was to remove it. When I

quickly glanced at Helen, her face wore a stunned expression and she looked pale,

almost as if she might faint. To steady herself, she rested one hand for a moment on

the shoulder of the dress designer – a pleasant middle-aged woman who was

kneeling at Helen’s feet, intent on adjusting the d**** of the hem, and who with her

back towards me had missed my little strip-tease performance.

The bride and bridesmaids dresses – like so many in this summer of 2011 – were

influenced by the Royal Wedding not long before. Of course, they were not simply

copies – but they followed the newly-fashionable style by having a narrow waist and

sweeping wide skirt for the bride, and plain and figure-hugging floor-length pencil

dresses for the bridesmaids. I was all in favour of this – like any hot-blooded lesbian,

my enduring memory from the television coverage of the wedding was not of Prince

William or even Kate Middleton, but of her athletic younger sister Pippa’s stunning ass

in her gorgeously sexy slimline dress.

In fact, the dresses for Helen and myself were going to be so closely fitted that we

were not to wear our ordinary bras underneath; instead, to support our breasts, each

of our dresses would have soft cloth cups of the appropriate volume sewn inside the

bust. A delightful consequence of this was that we spent much of the fitting sessions

dressed only in our panties, and I sneaked almost as many glances at Helen’s small

pointy tits as I saw her giving my swaying ripe mounds. During that second session,

when it was my turn to be on the stool for fitting and measuring, I could see from the

corner of my eye that Helen was leaning against the wall to my left, gazing almost

hypnotised at my tits and ass. When I turned more away from her, she did not realise

that I could still see her reflection in a nearby full-length mirror, and my breath caught in

delight as I saw her cup and pinch her own small breasts, and then she slipped one

hand down inside the front of her panties and was clearly giving her pussy a vigorous

rub.

I was sure from this point that Helen fancied girls, and some instinct convinced me that

she was – as I am – purely and entirely lesbian, rather than bisexual. However, I also

doubted that she had yet had any actual sexual experience; I was certain that she

would not want to do it with a boy, and it was most likely that she would be too scared

and nervous of coming on to any of her female friends – the risks would be too great.

She was only a little over fifteen-and-a-half, and so almost certainly a virgin – unless, of

course, an older woman (such as a school teacher, sports coach or Girl Guide leader)

had seduced her, as she was more than pretty enough to be tempting. However, I

thought that this had not yet happened, as her manner radiated the naive eagerness of

the inexperienced.

It was after this second fitting that I began to think of seducing her at the wedding, and

taking her cherry myself. After all, it was only right and proper that there should be a

loss of virginity on a wedding day, and my resolutely heterosexual sister Samantha

could not fit that bill, as she and James had been fucking like bunnies ever since they

started going out together.

The third and final fitting was also a final confirmation of Helen’s growing interest in me

– in fact, in addition to her awareness of my physical charms (my breasts being a

particular focus), it was clear that she was developing quite a crush on me, chattering

away and eagerly agreeing with any comment that I made. At one point, when the

designer briefly left the fitting room to take a phone call, and Helen and I were naked

apart from our panties (mine this time being a sketchy thong in burgundy red), I

managed to contrive an opportunity to remove mine. I forget the reason that I gave, but

I turned my back to Helen in apparent modesty, and bent from the waist only, keeping

my legs straight, as I rolled the panties down from my thighs to my ankles. I knew that

she could see my asshole, the swell of my completely-shaven pussy mound and the

base of my slit – with my labia visibly puffy and parted. I heard her give a sigh of

desire, and a quick glance at the mirror (once again, she was so intently focused on

me that she had not realised she was visible in it) showed me a glorious sight of

sapphic apprenticeship – Helen had thrust her hand so hard into her panties that they

were pushed down three or four inches, and I could see that her fingers were frantically

frotting along her gash. When I slowly straightened and turned – giving her a full view of

my cunt from the front – she had had time to straighten her panties and remove her

hand, but my eagle eye noted the giveaway dark damp patch at her crotch. Seconds

later, Helen excused herself to visit the en suite bathroom, and as the designer had not

returned I swiftly crossed the room and put my ear to the toilet door. My reward was to

hear the moans of a girl fingering herself to a rapid climax, and when she came – to

my delight – it sounded like she was saying my name, over and over.

Some time after the wedding, Helen told me that she had begun to suspect that I might

be a lesbian after the second fitting session, and had wondered if the eyefuls of my tits

and cunt which I had afforded her both then and at the third session were a come-on –

but, because she wanted so much for that to be the case, she was afraid that she was

reading too much into it. It had only been when I touched her ass at the wedding

reception that she had been really sure, and she had almost swooned with excitement

when I suggested that we go together to my room.

So now, here in my bedroom at the wedding hotel, we reached the consummation that

we both desired so much. After breaking our clinch, I reached up to unpin her hair,

which had been piled up in an elegant arrangement for the wedding ceremony. Helen

has lovely blonde hair, long and straight, which I knew from the fitting sessions she

normally kept in a pony tail, sometimes just loosely gathered and sometimes plaited –

either way, she looked such a pretty picture of a wholesome schoolgirl. She stood

silently, savouring my proximity and the thrilling knowledge that much more was to

come, whilst I carefully removed the comb and pins which were holding her coiffure in

place. Released, her hair spilled down over her shoulders in a wave, and I ran my

hands through its silky fineness.

My next move was to turn Helen gently around so that she was facing away from me,

and then with a single slow pull I drew the zip of her bridesmaids dress down from the

back of her neck to the base of her spine. It gaped open, but remained hanging from

her shoulders until I stepped right up behind her – my breasts pushing against her

back – and brought my hands around to the front of her dress. I cupped her small

breasts through the soft satin material, and she stiffened for a moment before relaxing

against me and letting the erotic sensations carry her away.

After squeezing Helen’s tits through her dress, I eased it from her shoulders and it fell

quite neatly down to her ankles. As we were not wearing bras beneath the wedding

outfits, this at once afforded me full access to her soft little breasts and their hard

pointy nipples – which I began to tweak and tease, so heightening her pleasure. I

kissed the back and sides of her neck, and then in a whisper asked her to undress me

as well. Helen hastened eagerly to comply, and with slightly shaking hands she undid

the zip of my satin sheath dress and slowly lowered it down over my hips. I smiled at

her as I stepped out of it, and quickly hung it up in the wardrobe. Now, we were both

reduced to just our panties and the plain white girlish knee-highs which we had worn

under the long bridesmaids gowns.

Helen reached forwards to cradle my heavy breasts, an expression of wonder on her

face as she felt their human warmth and soft resilience. She looked as if she could not

quite believe that this was really happening, as if this was a dream come true – as

indeed it was, for later she told me that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about me

from we met at the first fitting session and I had stripped off in front of her; since then,

she had been masturbating almost every night whilst fantasising about me making

love to her. This had confirmed the erotic thoughts she had already been having for

more than a year about some of her school friends and teachers, and she had come to

realise and then happily to accept that she was almost certainly a lesbian.

‘Oh, Vicky!’ she exclaimed, ‘you’re so gorgeous, so beautiful!’

I smiled and said nothing, for I intended that actions should speak louder than words. I

took a gentle grip of Helen’s upper arms and steered her backwards to the large king

-size bed. She got the idea at once, and when the backs of her calves encountered the

side of the bed, she quickly scrambled onto the mattress, sitting up and waiting for me

to join her. Her posture and body language perfectly fitted the old expression of being

‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed’. However, although she seemed keen enough, I wanted

to take things slowly and carefully, lest this spirited filly should panic and refuse the

fences ahead of her.

I joined Helen on the bed, easing her down onto her back and then lying down

alongside her. I began with gentle kisses, just brushing my lips against hers and not

trying to get my tongue into her mouth. She stirred with pleasure, her warm body

pressing against my breasts and stomach, and I was delighted when she almost

immediately opened her mouth to me, whilst her own tongue ventured between my

lips. I replied with firmer and more passionate kissing, and soon our tongues were

entwined in a tangle of saliva.

My next move was to slip one hand across to her left breast, which was on the side

furthest from me. I began by tracing my finger around its circumference, trailing one

fingernail tantalisingly over her smooth pink skin. The nipple of her breast became

visibly even more stiff and prominent as I did so, and she mumbled something

incoherent but encouraging into my mouth. I let my fingers brush across her tit, and she

broke our kiss to give a little squeal – followed by another cry as I took a firmer hold of

her breast, cupping the palm of my hand over it, and simultaneously compressing and

massaging it.

‘Aaah, yes!’ she gasped, ‘oh, Vicky ... yes, do that to me more, do it more!’

I smiled down at her, and hunkered a little further down the bed so that I could bring my

mouth to her right breast, whilst still continuing my groping and fondling of her left one.

When my wet lips closed over the nipple of her right breast, I simultaneously tweaked

her left one. Helen’s head jerked sideways from the sudden erotic stimulus, and she

started to moan in arousal. From blind instinct, her hips twitched and her knees swung

wide open.

This was, quite literally, the opening that I had been waiting for. Still kissing and

sucking on her right breast, I took my hand from her left one and slid it slowly,

inexorably, down the centre of her body. My deliberation was quite deliberate – I

wanted her to realise where that hand was travelling to, so that when it reached its

destination of her cunt, she would be already turned on and hyper-sensitised to

anything that I might do. Sure enough, as my hand moved down past her tummy button,

she began to pant for breath and she arched her legs even further apart.

Helen gave a shudder of excitement as my questing hand reached the crotch of her

panties, and I cupped the fleshy protuberance of her Venus mound in my palm. I could

feel that the gusset of her sweet girlish pale-blue panties was already damp – indeed,

almost sodden – and she whimpered as I rubbed the wet material along the visible

contours of her slit, abrading her labial lips.

‘Take them off! Take them off and fuck me, Vicky!’ she gasped, ‘please – strip me,

fuck me – don’t wait, please!’

Despite this, I took my time – I didn’t want Helen to climax too soon, so I eased back a

bit, and she drew some deep breaths as I very gently stroked the fabric of her panties

around – but not directly on – her pussy. I also stopped my oral attentions to her

breast, and rose up slightly to gaze down at the slender teen’s body. Helen was lying

almost still, her face wearing a look of astonished revelation which shouted her

thoughts: ‘I expected it to be good – but I never dreamed it would be THIS good!’

I gave her a reassuring smile and kiss, and then hooked my fingers into the elastic

waistband of her panties at either hip, and gently tugged them downwards. She had to

bring her legs back together so that I could remove the panties, but as soon as that

was done she swung them wide open again – almost as if there was such a hot

furnace raging between them that she could not bear for them to be together. Now she

was completely naked apart from the white knee-highs that we were both wearing, and

their presence only served to heighten the impact of her nudity from the knees

upwards – she looked so young, so sweet, so innocent and so utterly fuckable.

I savoured the moment that my fingers first touched her bare cunt, and she gave a

moaning sigh as I explored her folds and valleys. She was not too hairy – not shaven,

of course, but it seemed that she kept her pubic hair closely trimmed with scissors,

and that and its fine blonde composition meant that nothing of her genitalia was

hidden or obscured. She gave a pretty mewling sound – very appropriately – as my

fingertips began to slide between her labia and tease along her pussy. However, she

made no protest over this invasion, and I tugged her opening a little further apart,

curling the end of my index finger into her vaginal slit and sliding it around.

My probing finger soon encountered an obstruction – as I had suspected and hoped,

her hymen was still intact. I withdrew my digit, despite Helen’s soft whimpering

imprecations for me to continue, and indeed to be harder and firmer.

‘You’ve still got your virginity, my sweet angel’, I told her; ‘I’d better not go any further, I

might tear or break it.’

Helen’s frustration at the possibility that the cup of lesbian love might be dashed from

her lips was palpable and almost comic. She was also exactly where I wanted her to

be – panting with desire, aching for release, and desperately in need of fucking. The

words came gushing out:

‘Oh, God, yes!! Vicky, do – I want you to, really, honestly! You’re the one for me, you

take it – oh, please fuck me, please do!’

‘Helen – are you sure, your virginity?’ I queried, putting a doubtful note in my voice and

successfully smothering my jubilant satisfaction, for of course her plea was music to

my ears.

‘Yes, YES!!’ she almost shouted, and then she raised herself up on one elbow, looked

at me squarely, and said more calmly: ‘Really, truly, I’m quite sure, Vicky – oh, there

couldn’t be anyone more wonderful than you to be my first! I would love that so much, I

really would! Please take me, Vicky, please, I promise that I won’t ever complain – I

know that I won’t, because I want you so much!’

I smiled at her, nodded my assent, and told her to wait for just a moment. I rose from

the bed, crossed over to my suitcase and removed an item from it, and then

disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds. I returned with one of the two hand-

towels which the hotel had automatically provided for this double-room, getting a

slightly puzzled look from Helen which cleared when I reminded her that there was

likely to be a small show of blood when her membrane was ruptured, and I didn’t want

it to get onto the sheet, where it might arouse questions or gossip. Helen had had the

sex education lessons at school and so knew the mechanics (in theory, not in practice,

of course!), and she understood my precaution, lifting her butt a couple of inches off

the mattress so that I could slide the towel beneath her.

Through most of this preparation, her eyes had been focused not on the towel, but on

the object in my other hand – the item which I had taken from my suitcase. She knew

what it was, although she had never seen one before in reality: a vibrator. I had not

brought any of my largest ones with me, for I was afraid that they might frighten her

away, so this was a simple and modest model, but very effective. It was not made to

appear like a male penis – I don’t like that type, and I also thought that such a one

might be rather repulsive to Helen as well, innocent that she was. This vibrator was a

column of jet black plastic, smooth-sided and unadorned, six inches in length and with

a rounded knob at the end.

Helen swallowed a little nervously, as I switched on the vibrator and then brought the

humming tip up to her pussy lips. At first, I just ran it up and down her cleft – not

pressing to enter her at all, but letting the pulsing of the little machine act as a

tantalising massage to her erogenous zones. I could see that this was having the

desired effect, as a sweat broke out on her face and chest, and with an expression of

fixed intensity her teeth almost bit down on her lower lip.

Now she was ready for the next phase, and I used the fingers of my free hand gently to

press apart her inner labia, opening the way for the rounded end of the vibrator to slide

for about a centimetre into the start of her hole. Helen gave a little moan, and I could

feel her body trembling in anticipation beneath my touch – due just a little to nerves, but

much more to fervent desire. I let the vibrator rest here for a few seconds, its throbbing

doing the work of setting her juices flowing, and then I moved it slowly up her slit, her

gasps becoming both higher in pitch and more frequent as the shaking tip neared it

target – her clitoris.

Helen’s mouth opened and her eyes widened, as for the first time I pressed the

vibrator more firmly against her, and this transmitted its pulsing rhythm directly to her

clit, with powerfully erotic effect. The sweet teen began to mumble and gasp, almost

incoherently, as the waves of pleasure rippled through her lithe body:

‘Aaahh! Oh, OH! ... oh, Vicky! Oh, mmm, aaah, yes! Oooaah! Ohmigod, I’m yours,

Vicky, please – take me! Aaah, Vicky, yes – oh! OH!! Yes, yes, please ... mmm ...

now, YES, NOW!!’

Helen had propped herself up on her elbows, not wanting to miss a second of her

deflowering, but now she was shaking and almost on the point of fainting. I didn’t want

her to lose her grip completely, so I gave her clitoris a respite and brought the vibrator

back down her valley – which was now wide apart, the hot pink inner flesh wetly

glistening – and I let the throbbing tip press against her hymen. It had the effect of

vibrating her membrane as it were the skin of a snare drum, and the cute teenager

gave a wild high-pitched cry:

‘YES, YES! NOW, VICKY – NOW! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, PLEASE!! FUCK ME

NOW!!’

She was loud enough that I feared for a moment that anyone walking past in the

corridor outside (like her mother!!) might hear, and so I quickly covered her mouth with

my free hand to muffle her shrieks – and I noted for future interest that my dominance

of her in this way seemed to excite her even more. I looked down at her, my full breasts

swinging like a pendulum in front of her face. Helen’s eyes were riveted on mine, as

without any further delay I thrust the vibrator firmly into and straight through her hymen.

The teen winced for a second at the resulting short sharp jab of pain, and then her

eyes widened in surprise and appreciation as the humming head of the vibrator

pushed further into her, opening up what had never been entered before, and sending

waves of electric excitement radiating through her.

Now we were in a new wonderland, with nerve-endings in her body that had never

been stimulated before now pulsing with erotic charge, making her breathing alternate

between a pant and a gasp. Helen stared down between her widespread legs,

watching in wonder as I pushed the vibrator further and further into her. Two inches had

disappeared at first, followed by a third, and now a fourth – eliciting from the young girl

a sudden shaken groan, as her hips started, instinctively and almost of their own

volition, to thrust back against the hard presence which had penetrated her. Helen

began to whimper, and her hips rose off the bed sheet as a fifth inch of the vibrator

wormed its way into her vagina, and her back began to arch as her climax built. I was

meeting some resistance now and I did not want to hurt her, so this was as far as I

dared go – but I admired the girl, for I had not been able to take so much when I lost

my cherry.

I began to draw the vibrator backwards and forwards for a couple of inches – slowly at

first, but as her vagina got used to this intruding presence, she became looser and

wetter, and I was able to increase the pace. Helen’s eyes were almost bugging out – I

still had my other hand clamped over her mouth, and she stared at me from above my

fingers, her shuddering moans muffled and her saliva dribbling down below my palm

and from her chin. I shifted my right hand slightly to get a better angle with the vibrator,

and I knew that now was the time to ride the hot little teen right over the fence.

Drawing the sweetly humming vibrator back until only perhaps an inch was still inside

her, I paused for two or three heartbeats – to make sure that I had her attention, and

because I know how powerfully stimulating a hiatus like that can be when it is just on

the cusp of a fucking. I removed my hand from her face and replaced it with my mouth,

kissing her devouringly, whilst at the same time I repeatedly rammed the vibrator fully

into her and then out again, hard and fast. My changed position allowed me to press

my own cunt against Helen’s right thigh, just above her knee, for I was getting so turned

on by what I was doing to the pretty blonde bridesmaid that I ached for release myself.

The girl’s body thrashed beneath mine in utter abandon, and her climax was so

tumultuous that it transmitted directly from her trembling thigh to my pussy with pile-

driving effect, and I shuddered on top of her, with my cum-juice squirting out to coat her

leg. Helen flopped backwards, her head lolling on the bed, and the most wonderful

look of stunned revelation appeared on her face.

‘Oh, wow! Wowie-zowie-wow!’ she whispered in delight, ‘Oh, Vicky – oh, that was just

amazing – just incredible! Thank you, thank you so much, for ever and ever and ever!’

‘Babe’, I said, as I leaned over to kiss each of her little pinnacles of breasts, ‘that was

my pleasure – and I mean that most literally!’

She laughed, and then we lay together on the wide soft mattress, companionably side

-by-side. However, the girl was just so cute that I couldn’t leave it long before touching

her again, and after only a few minutes I reached across to massage gently her tight

little teenage pussy. Helen was still at first, breathing quietly, and I enjoyed the sight of

the rising and falling of her youthful chest with its small bumps of pubescent breasts.

She was clearly more than contented, and watched me closely with a sweet and

slightly shy smile accentuating the pink flush of her cheeks. After a while, she began to

move her hips in response to my caresses of her cunt, and her breathing became a

little louder, faster and more ragged.

I would have been content to use my hand to ease her up gradually to a second

orgasm, but Helen was starting to get ideas of her own. Suddenly, she sat up and with

a merry laugh rolled me over onto my back, her slim form quite light as she lay on top

of me, her hard little nipples pressing into the soft pillow of my bust. With bright happy

shining eyes, she thanked me for having taken her virginity and for being her first

lesbian lover, and then she kissed me – first on my mouth, but then with a cute wriggle

she nestled lower, and took one of my breasts into her mouth.

‘Aaah, yes ... oh, my sweet angel, that’s lovely’, I murmured, running my fingers through

her long blonde hair and luxuriating in the attentions that her lips and tongue were

giving to my stiffly erect nipples. With this encouragement, she became more

passionate and vigorous, sucking hard on the tit that was in her mouth whilst

massaging the other breast with her hand, and clearly relishing the effect that she was

having on me, as I gasped and thrust my breasts up higher towards her.

Then her hand snaked down lower, questing between my legs, and with a sigh of

pleasure I spread my thighs apart to give her full access to my cunt. She slid her hand

inside my panties, which I had carefully chosen – they were one of my favourite

‘temptress’ pairs, a low-rise string in bright crimson, edged with lace around the waist

and legs. I often wear these when I cruise the lesbian bars (that is, if I wear any panties

at all under my micro mini-skirts, for there’s nothing like giving glimpses of bare pussy

for riveting the attention of whoever you want to pull – the younger women especially!).

For a little while, Helen stroked me there – her first touch of a woman’s sex – and then,

with a mischievous smile, she released my achingly-aroused breast from her mouth

and squirmed further down the bed.

I eased my hips upwards in an obvious invitation, and the pretty teen at once pulled my

panties down my legs and over my feet. I parted my legs again – not too much, but

enough to give her a clear view of my exposed cunt. Helen gazed in fascination at my

shaven pudenda, which were glistening with my juices and invitingly parted. Her

fingers began to explore the folds of my labia and the hot pink valley of my slit – she

was tentative at first, but then, trembling with excitement and desire, she became more

venturesome and slid her finger into me, initially up to the second joint and then sinking

it in right to her knuckle. The sensation of being fingered by this sweet lithe young

teenager was incredibly arousing; I looked at her through half-closed eyes, and

begged:

‘Sweet angel, make me come ... oh, please, make me come, make me come for you!’

This last suggestion thrilled Helen to the core – the very idea that she had such power

over my body, that an adult woman was in her hands and beseeching to be fucked,

made her bolder still. Her tongue wetted her lips, and then she brought her face down

onto my cunt and fastened her sweet teenage mouth around my pussy, and like a

puppy she began eagerly to lap and lick up and down my gaping vagina.

I writhed and moaned in rising ecstasy, as her hot little tongue delved into me and she

avidly sucked up my coursing pussy-juices. It wasn’t that she was expert – quite the

contrary, it was the very novice nature of her efforts, together with her enthusiasm and

evident pleasure in her task, which made it such a thrill. It was truly mind-blowing to

realise that I had between my legs a fifteen-year-old newly-minted lesbian who was

tasting the pleasure of female cunnilingus for the very first time!

It did not take long for her bring me off, and with a broken cry my back arched, my hips

jerked in spasms, and I clasped the back of her head with both my hands, driving her

mouth against my quivering cunt.

‘Aaaaahhh! Oh, Helen, my angel! Fuck me, Helen, fuck me ... ohmigod, I’m gonna

come for you babe, I’m cumming for you ... aaah, yes, for you!’ I sobbed, as one of the

most powerful climaxes I have ever known exploded simultaneously in my cunt and in

my head, making me nearly pass out and leaving me dishevelled, panting for breath

and gloriously fulfilled.

We were both sweaty and sticky from our lovemaking, and we decided that sharing a

bath together would be the nicest way to get clean and fresh – and fresh with each

other. We ran the water in the large bath in my bedroom’s private en suite facilities,

adding lashing of lavender-scented bubble-bath to make mountains of sweet smelling

foam on the surface of the steaming hot water. We stripped off our knee-highs, and I

stepped in first, settling down in the gloriously hot and scented water. Then Helen

climbed in to sit between my legs, and I washed her long blonde hair and massaged

her lissom back, which she loved. She leant back against me, resting her shoulder-

blades against the support of my bust, as I reached round to her front and soaped her

chest. The teenager giggled in delight as I scooped handfuls of bubbles onto her

breasts and watched them slowly slide back down into the water again. I then

continued playfully to stroke and tweak her tits, until she began to squirm in the bath

and thrust a hand between her legs, rubbing at her own pussy. However, instead of

bringing herself off, she turned round and settled again facing me, our legs

intermingled under the water, and she repaid me with similar attentions to my own

glistening breasts, until I thought that I would come in the warm water myself.

I paused her before it went that far, taking her hands and kissing them, and then pulling

her to her feet and stepping out of the bath. We each picked up one of the hotel’s huge

soft white Egyptian cotton towels, and by mutual sapphic instinct began to dry each

other’s bodies. My soft gentle strokes aroused her so much that I took her back to the

bed, spread her legs wide apart, and ate out her cunt – returning her earlier favour until

she had a similarly back-arching climax.

Without a second’s pause, I rolled her over onto her stomach and paid worship to her

lovely jutting ass, parting her butt-cheeks with my fingers and probing into her tight little

pussy from behind, whilst my teeth nipped playfully at the base of her trim teenage butt

and my tongue rimmed around her delicate flower of an asshole. She luxuriated in

these attentions, glowing with pride and pleasure as I said in a muffled voice (my

mouth being pressed right into her anus) how beautiful her bubble-butt was and that it

was her pert ass that turned me on the most about her, and I admitted that after our

fitting sessions I had had to go home and fuck myself really hard with my vibrator whilst

I imagined doing just this to her naked bottom.

This was enough to bring us both off again – Helen with shudders of delight as my

thrusting fingers and probing tongue made her climax, whilst I could not contain myself

and grunted with lust as, bending over the cute teenager’s slender form, I ground my

cunt against the hard rim of a corner of the mattress until the friction on my clit made

me come.

It was then time to get dressed for the dancing, which took longer than usual as we

both spent time helping the other into her lingerie and dress – accompanied by many

caresses and sweet little kisses. We were a bit late for the start of the party when we

went downstairs, but no one noticed, and if we looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in

our pretty dancing frocks, it was naturally attributed to the excitements of the wedding

day.

Before we left my bedroom, I told Helen that if she wanted to, she could slip back to it

later, after everyone had gone to bed, and spend the night with me – returning to her

own bedroom before people began to wake for breakfast. She was so pleased, and

kissed me fervently as she assured me that she would like nothing better in the whole

world.

The party was fun, and we had to be careful not to give away our attraction to each

other as we whirled on the dance floor – making sure of dancing with several other

people, but without giving any young men the encouragement to take things further.

Fortunately, this was not really a problem – of course, it is almost traditional at

weddings for the best man to try and seduce one of the bridesmaids, but on this

occasion James’s best man had got married himself only a few weeks before, and

clearly had eyes only for his lovely wife. Most of the other under-30s at the wedding

were university friends or work colleagues of the bride and groom, and nearly all of

them came in couples; enjoying the event as a kind of reunion, they partied together as

a group and barely gave a glance in the direction of Helen or myself.

The result was that it did not seem odd that we were companions together for most of

the party, fetching each other soft drinks (Helen, of course, was too young for alcohol,

and between the thirst from dancing and my greater thirst for the pleasures of the night

still to come – and come, and come, I hoped! – I did not want to dull any of my

faculties, so we stuck to cola and orange juice). Just once we could not resist an

opportunity to slip into a little alcove at the end of the room which was screened by

some greenery, and she quickly kissed me whilst I thrust my hand under her short and

skimpy black A-line dress, deftly twisting my finger past the gusset of her panties and

giving her cunt a few quick rubs. Helen clung to me tightly, giggling and keeping a

lookout over my shoulder in case anyone should come into our little bower.

At one point, when leaving the dance floor together after bopping to a fast number, we

encountered Helen’s mother, who smiled sweetly at me and said:

‘Victoria, my dear – it’s so nice of you to take care of Helen, we really appreciate it

and I’m sure she’s having fun ... she looks so happy today, isn’t that lovely?’

I assured Helen’s mother that it was no trouble at all (which it certainly wasn’t), whilst

thinking that if she knew quite how I was taking care of her daughter, and quite why

Helen was looking so glowing, she would be a lot less pleased about it!

We made our excuses and left the party around midnight, saying that the excitement of

the day was catching up with us and we were getting tired. Helen hardly had to act this,

for she was yawning away at the end of a day that had been more thrilling and

momentous for her than any of her family could have guessed. We parted briefly in the

corridor outside my bedroom door, and I whispered to her that it would be unlocked so

that when she came back she could slip quickly inside. Her tiredness seemed to

evaporate with the marvellous instantly-renewable energy of youth, and she eagerly

told me that she would return in ten or fifteen minutes, as soon as she had changed out

of her clothes and freshened up. There was no one in the corridor, so I gave her a

quick kiss, told her to hurry, and then playfully goosed her ass as she squealed and ran

away down the corridor to her own room, almost skipping with delight.

This gave me just enough time to make my own preparations, and I had been lying in

bed for less than five minutes, with the light turned down low, when the door eased

quietly open and the pretty blonde teen tiptoed into my room. She was barefoot, and

wearing a long silky wrap that was well-chosen for both its slim cut and its dark blue

colour, which offset her pale skin and long golden hair. Helen took four or five silent

steps to the side of my bed, and then tugged open the cord of her wrap to reveal that

she was completely nude underneath it. With a graceful shrug of her shoulders, the thin

garment sighed to the floor behind her, and for a moment I gazed up in admiration at

the slim feminine form before me. Her small breasts were accentuated by the

prominent arousal of her nipples, and the subdued light from the lamp beside the bed

sent enticing shadows across the magical curves of her stomach and her taut butt.

I smiled up at her lazily from where I lay in the bed on my side, the white sheet d****d

over me up to my chest in apparent modesty.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you, my angel’, I whispered, and then I drew the sheet aside and

enjoyed the astonishment on the teen’s face. Her eyes went wide and her mouth

opened to form a silent O as she gazed down at me. I was wearing a strap-on plastic

dildo, which I had brought with me in the hope that such a moment might arise – it was

by no means the largest in my collection, for after all this was a fifteen-year-old girl

having her first full-on fucks, and it was only six inches long and an inch in diameter, but

no doubt to Helen it must have seemed gigantic. To set it off, as I have found that

wearing some garments with it has an even more sexy effect, my legs were encased

in black fishnet hold-ups with a lacy elastic top, and my breasts were displayed in an

underwired black plunge bra. I had checked myself out in the full-length mirror a few

minutes earlier, before getting into bed and waiting for my pretty visitor, and I knew that

I looked really sensual and sexual, with my breasts prominently thrusting outwards and

my ripe ass showcased by the straps of the dildo harness running round my waist and

down between my buttocks.

Helen seemed almost in awe of the dildo, and reached out tentatively to touch it and

feel its smooth shiny surface and hard resilience. She gulped a little nervously at the

prospect of taking that length inside herself (having no idea yet of how extensive the

capacity of the female body can be), and her eyes were riveted on the plastic rod as I

rose from the bed and it swung round towards her like a missile tracking for its target –

which was definitely codename cunt. I drew her close to me, which inevitably had the

effect of pressing the outthrust plastic rod against the girl’s pussy, and she gave a

shudder and a deep throaty groan of desire when it rubbed against her Venus mound.

‘Don’t worry, honey’, I murmured softly in her ear, stroking her long blonde hair, ‘we’ll

take it slow and easy, and with plenty of lube in case you’re still a bit sore ... that is, if

you want this? If you don’t, just say – I won’t mind’, I added, not at all truthfully, for I

would have been terribly disappointed if she had declined, but of course I would have

accepted it and did not want to push her further than she wanted to go.

I need not have worried – this was one hot pussy-lover in the making, there was no

doubt about it. Helen drew a breath, and then assured me in a firm voice that she

would love me to take her that way, that she had heard of such things and had tried to

imagine what it would be like, but she had never dreamed of finding out for real so

soon!

I pulled the sheet off the bed, and then positioned the two flat pillows on top of each

other, about one-third of the way down from the headboard. I told Helen to get on the

bed on all fours, and then to lower her arms so that her chest rested on the pillows for

support, whilst her ass was left sticking up in the air behind her. My God, did she ever

look inviting in that pose, and I paused for a second to admire her slender fifteen-year

-old frame, with her boyish hips and trim thighs, and her perky little butt offered up for

my delight.

I climbed carefully onto the bed behind her, and then used my hands to ease her knees

wider apart, so that her pudenda were fully exposed. We had all night ahead of us – I

don’t think either of us was expecting, or caring about, getting much in the way of

sleep! – and so there was plenty of time for sensuous foreplay. I traced my fingers

down her back from her collar-bones, round and over and under her ass, giving little

flicking touches to the crevasse between her ass-cheeks and her vagina, which was

already parting and oozing with moisture. Next, I ran my hands up her legs, quite gently

from her ankles to her knees, and then with a firmer, kneading massage up her inner

thighs, until the edges of my hands encounter her pussy and I rubbed them forcefully

down her labia.

By this time, Helen’s breathing was coming in little shallow pants, and her back

gleamed with a sheen of sweat that was the product of her heightened state and not

the temperature of the air-conditioned room, which was mildly pleasant. Her eyes were

closed so that she could all the better soak up the sensations from my caresses of her

body, and her face wore a beatific smile.

I paused briefly to pick up the tube of lubricant jelly from the bedside table, and

smeared a generous amount over the full length of the dildo – and the bit that

remained I rubbed onto her labia. Then, savouring every second, I moved up closer to

her ass and positioned myself so that the end of the dildo was brushing against the

curved base of her pussy. Then I nudged it forwards, and she gave a plaintive moan as

just a centimetre of the tip slipped into and out of her vagina, teasing her with its

potential for penetration.

It’s true, the young have no patience – after barely 30 seconds of such erogenous

stimulus, she began to thrust her pelvis back against the plastic rod, making it enter

her further, whilst begging me in a nearly incoherent whisper to take her, fuck her, do

her. This was all the green light that I needed, and she gasped as I gripped her firmly

with both my hands, holding her just above her hips. I was hot and ready to have this

babe in my favourite way – shafting her cunt from behind with a strap-on, doggy-style.

‘Ooooo-ahh! Oh, Vicky, fuck me! Vicky – aaah! fuckme-fuckme-fuckme!! she

whimpered, as I slid first one inch of it into her, then two and then three. I was taking it

carefully and slowly, and that was far enough for the first insertion – which,

encouragingly, had been easier than I had expected. I eased my weight backwards

and drew the dildo completely out of her. She gave a strange kind of shudder as it

exited completely from her hole, but almost at once I reinserted it – using my hand to

guide its alignment and make sure that it was spearing into the right spot.

This time it sank in another inch, and Helen squealed in ecstasy – mingled with a slight

note of alarm – as it opened her up inside, cleaving through where nothing and no one

had been before. I pulled the dildo out and then pushed it in again, working with gentle

insistence to get the whole length into her. She was now taking nearly five of its six

inches without any sign of discomfort – in fact, quite the reverse, as she seemed to be

revelling in the revelation of the experience.

At this point, I altered my technique: on the backstrokes, I no longer withdrew the

phallus all the way – in fact, at least about two inches remained in her pussy. I then

began a regime of deeper and firmer thrusts, spearing right into her, until at last I

drilled her cunt so far that the base plate to which the dildo was fixed slapped against

her ass. From this point, I built up the pace, at first slowly and then – as she showed no

sign of discomfort, and every sign of eager lust – I began to shaft her faster and faster,

and firmer and firmer.

My final twist was quite literally that – I added a kind of corkscrew motion with my

pelvis to my thrusts and withdrawals, on both the inward and outward strokes. I also

had the advantage of my position above and behind the supine teenager, and I

reached forwards with my right hand to grab a handful of the mane of blonde hair

which spilled across her shoulder and back. I used this like the reins on a horse,

pulling her head upwards and backwards, and arching her back so that her cunt was in

the perfect spot for a real pussy-pounding. Then, I reached under her chest with my left

hand, and pulled on her breasts and pinched her nipples.

Helen moaned with a long keening sound, the note of it rising and falling with my

thrusts in and out of her; it was muffled only because she had shoved one fist into her

mouth and was almost chewing upon it in her frenzy. Her other arm was outstretched,

with its hand clawing at the bedsheet for purchase; as I had anticipated, her whole

weight was now supported only by the pillows under her chest. I gave a final deep firm

thrust with the dildo, and then held it pressed inside as her ass quivered against the

strap-on’s base plate. With blind instinct, Helen’s pelvis tried to thrust back against the

dildo that was impaled inside her, and she cried out sharply in the explosive moment

of her release, her whole body shuddering as she came.

I thought for one concerned moment that she had fainted, but after a few seconds of

stunned immobility, she drew a long quavering breath as I slowly withdrew the plastic

dildo from her body. Once it was free, she gave a deep sigh of well-fucked

contentment, and with some grace rolled sideways off the pillows to lie on her back on

the bed next to them. I pushed the pillows back up to the headboard, retaining one to

cushion my head as I curled up next to her and drew her youthful frame into my arms.

Helen nestled against me, and after a while her breathing slowed to normal pace. We

remained like this in contented harmony for a while, but I noticed that her eyes were

being repeatedly drawn back to the strap-on, and that her fingers had begun to toy with

the sticky rounded end of the dildo. I looked at her steadily for a long moment, and then

asked:

‘Would you like to do me? ... would you like to fuck me with it?’

Helen almost clapped her hands with glee as she sat up and turned to me, looking

suddenly like a little girl who has been offered the free run of the candy store. Her eyes

were dancing with curiosity and desire, and she eagerly responded:

‘Oooh! Can I? Really, Vicky, would you like me to? ... I’d love to, really really I would!’

I unbuckled the side straps and pulled the harness away from my cunt, and handed it to

her.

‘Please do, angel, it would be my pleasure – literally’, I purr