Better Late Than Never
by Ginny Wolf
I sat very still at my vanity table for at least ten minutes with the
tube of lipstick in my hand. I felt terribly nervous about my first real
date with another woman, knowing or hoping that before the night was
over we would be making love in my bed. I just sat there, debating
whether I had the nerve to follow through with my plan. Oh, I'm
getting ahead of myself. Let me explain how I came to this internal
debate. I guess my family history is the place to start.
*******
My father returned from military service in the Second World War,
married my mother and, like many others in their generation, they set
about having babies-eight of us. That's why they call my generation
"Baby Boomers." I don't know how they planned it but my parents had boy-
girl-boy-girl-boy-girl-boy-girl in sequence. I was in the middle, the
fifth child, the third boy of four. So we were Theodore ("Ted"),
Theresa, Thomas ("Tom"), Tammy, Timothy (me- "Tim"), Tonya, Todd and
Trudy.
My father went to college on the G.I. bill, earned a degree in
engineering, found a good job, made money, bought a house in suburbia
where we children grew up in comfort. We attended a good public high
school and with our parents' encouragement, all went to college.
I got along well enough with my dad and my three brothers but was never
particularly interested in or attracted to manly activities or sports. I
had much better relationships with my mother and my sisters,
particularly Tammy and Tonya. I never had a steady girl friend, though
I didn't lack for interest and did have a pretty date for my high school
senior prom. Much to my mother's dismay, I never wanted to have
children.
Even before I started school I sensed that I should have been a girl,
not a boy. However, any efforts to explore or express myself were
quickly squelched. I clearly sensed that I should feel ashamed of my
girlish feelings. But I wasn't. Instead of going out for football or
track or basketball as my brothers did, I participated in the debate
club, chess club and student theater productions. My senior year gave me
the opportunity to perform a role in drag which I loved. My father and
brothers refused to come see the play. My mother and sisters loved the
performance, Tammy telling me how beautiful and graceful I was.
For a variety of reasons, but mostly to escape the macho environment of
my home, I left Nebraska and selected a small co-ed college on the East
coast. My college roommate for my last two years was a beautiful woman
named Gina, with whom I shared an off-campus apartment. Gina was a God-
send, totally comfortable helping me explore my feminine self, teaching
me how to do my hair and makeup and guiding me in building a wardrobe.
In that same time a wonderful professor put me in contact with a fine
therapist who correctly figured out who I was. She put me in touch with
a program to help me prepare for transition.
In 1975, at age 21, I graduated magna cum laude with a double major in
English and drama. I headed home to talk about what I intended to do
with my life. The discussion turned into civil war. My father and
brothers condemned me, my mother and sisters supported me. Since I left
home at the end of that summer I never again saw or talked to my father
and three brothers.
By 1979, I had become the woman I was meant to be, went to graduate
school in library science, found a decent job and settled into the life
of a classic, single, spectacle-wearing librarian, Ms Barbara Larsen, in
a Maryland town close to Washington, D.C. My sisters and their husbands
accept me. To their children, I am simply Aunt Barbara. Mother and I
stayed close and after my father died in 1988, she moved to the
Washington metro area to be close to me and my sisters Tonya and Trudy
and their families, one in Pennsylvania, the other in Virginia.
By no means am I conservative in my religion, politics, appearance or
literary tastes. Like my mother, I dress well, have my hair done
regularly and try to keep my figure reasonably nice, although, like my
mother, I tend to plumpness. My mother praised me when I colored my
hair blonde, always commented favorably on my wardrobe and regularly
encouraged me to lose weight. "Barbara, you'd look so much better if
you'd just drop ten pounds. Men like slim girls."
She would love to see me married to a man, just like my sisters. She
raves to people about her five beautiful daughters, showing only
pictures of me since my transition. However, I stopped considering
myself a "girl" as my feminist consciousness grew. No man attracted me
enough to go to bed with him. As an educated, well-read woman, I
learned about sex toys and became good at using a vibrator and dildo on
myself. The vast majority of my friends were and are women. I'm
naturally tactile and affectionate with other women. My best friends
and I always kiss and hug each other. Yet I had never considered taking
my friendship further than that. I could not admit to myself that I was
attracted to women and I feared letting anyone even suspect my feelings.
I'd look in the mirror at myself in heels, hose, business outfit, my
makeup carefully applied, my hair colored and styled, and say, "That's
no lesbian." I mean how could I explain being not only a transgender
woman but a lesbian?
The year that I turned forty, I befriended a wonderful woman who
reminded me of Gina, my college roommate. Her name was Donna. She was
loving, kind, attractive, witty. For a year, we did a lot of things
together and had great fun. At times, I felt she was flirting with me.
I suspect that, like me, Donna was a lipstick lesbian. But I was too
afraid to express my feelings, too fearful of rejection, too unwilling
to come out. Donna took a job in Seattle, moved away and we lost
contact.
At forty-five, instead of aging gracefully and finding my desire
lessening, I found it increasing. I began to read lesbian erotica as I
used my toys more regularly to masturbate. As I worked at my desk in one
of the large branches of the public library of my city, I began looking
at women patrons with an eye for their sexual attributes. Pretty
college students with slim waists, svelte professional women with
shapely breasts, comely gray-haired matrons with nicely rounded bottoms,
they all took my eye as they read magazines, used the computers or
searched the stacks. On some days, my strong feelings seemed to
overwhelm me. I would leave my desk, go into a quiet stall in the "staff
only" ladies room and masturbate, rubbing my panty girdle and pantyhose
firmly into my crotch with fantasies about having sex with a woman while
I bit down hard on a handkerchief so no one could hear my moans.
By the time I turned fifty-three in the spring of 2007, I felt a bit
calmer. With two dozen women friends, I had a croning ceremony to
celebrate my birthday. The day was wonderful. The affirmations from my
friends buoyed my spirit. At one point, each woman present hugged me
and offered a prayer or wish, silently, publicly or whispered into my
ear. My dear friend Maureen, also a crone, whispered to me, "Barbara,
may this be the year you find true love." I kissed her with tears in my
eyes.
The Friday after the Labor Day weekend that year was a rain-soaked, mud-
splattered day in our city. Early in the afternoon, a woman's voice
said, "Excuse me, please. Could you help me with something?"
I looked up to see a tall, well-built woman, with dark hair, cut in a
becoming short style, a smooth face with some laugh lines but no makeup,
very attractive hands and blue eyes that danced over the top of her
reading glasses. She wore a white clerical collar with a yellow vest,
gray jacket and gray ankle-length skirt with a pair of low heels. The
vest sat tightly across the chest which nicely showed off the woman's
well-endowed breasts. The first thing I instinctively did, even before
responding to her question, was to touch the side of my head to make
sure my hair spray still kept every hair in place. "Yes, reverend, how
can I help you?" I answered, my insides quivering.
With a smile, she explained that she preferred "doctor" rather than
"reverend," that her name was June Fisher, that she was new in the
religion department at one of the colleges in my part of the city, that
she had just moved into the area from New England, and that the campus
library had sent her over. "I'm teaching a course on the Renaissance
and Reformation and another on comparative religions. I saw in the on-
line catalog that you have some older books that the college does not
have in its collection. Ms Harris, the campus librarian, told me that
the local colleges have an arrangement with the city library system to
put books on reserve for our students to use? Is that correct?"
"Yes, Dr Fisher, we do that."
"Oh, 'doctor' is for my students. My friends all call me June."
"And please call me Barbara," I said. I reached out to shake her hand
but somehow I desperately wanted to kiss her. "Let me see your list,
June. As long as they are not checked out, we can put them on reserve
beginning today." As it turned out, all the books were available,
including several so old and not borrowed for years that they were in
storage in the basement. About an hour later, when I finished making
arrangements for the books June wanted on reserve for her students, we
exchanged business cards. Before handing me hers, June wrote her home
phone number on the back. Saying she was still quite new to town and
wanting to know people, she asked me if she could meet me the next
afternoon for coffee. I suggested my favorite caf? a short distance from
my home. When I gave her the address, June said that was great as it
was close to her apartment. That surprised and excited me. I had duly
noted that her beautiful hands had no wedding band. I made a point of
letting her see my ringless fingers as well. As I watched June walk
away, I realized that my panties must have a considerable wet spot. Not
only am I a lesbian, my gaydar just went crazy, I told myself.
The next day, Saturday, I was not scheduled to work. Ordinarily, I'd
have slept in but that morning I awakened at 5 a.m. The rain continued
at a steady pace. As I looked at the ceiling, I considered what I
wanted to do to prepare for my meeting over coffee with June. I knew it
was too late to get an appointment at my hair salon. Okay, hair, face,
nails I'll do myself. What to wear? As I considered that, I remembered
that my health club, to which I did not go very often, opened at 6 a.m.
on weekends. I grabbed the bedside phone and called, managing to
schedule a full body massage with my favorite masseuse. Without waiting
to shower, I dressed in workout clothes, grabbed my purse and backpack
and headed out. I entered the club, put my things in a locker and went
right to the exercise machines which I used for thirty minutes. Lauren,
my masseuse, found me there.
"Hey, Barbara! Nice surprise to see you. Front desk said you want to
take a steam before your massage? Come on, let's get you going." She
handed me a cloth robe and directed me to change from my exercise outfit
to the robe.
The club has a row of very modern steam cabinets. Their sleek blue
fiberglass shape is just as intimidating as the old style metal
cabinets. However, I like them better than sitting in the sauna. I
know that I should use one more often. This day it was desperation that
motivated me to try to sweat off a pound or two. As I, wearing my robe,
followed Lauren to the row of steam cabinets, I saw my elderly friend
Terri Harris already imprisoned in one. "Miss Harris" as she insists on
being called, is a former model and dancer, incredibly slim and very
active at eighty years of age. Her curly silver hair was covered with a
towel, turban-style. Another towel was wrapped around her neck. A small
stream of steam rose around the neck towel. Smiling, Lauren directed me
into the cabinet at Terri's right. I sat down on the little bench in
the cabinet. Lauren placed wooden sandals on my feet and closed the
front cabinet door. She placed a towel around my neck and lowered the
right and left lids around me. After turning the dial on the side of the
cabinet, she wrapped my hair in a towel. "How warm do you want it,
Barbara?" she asked.
"As hot as I can stand, Lauren. I want to work up a good sweat. And I
want twenty minutes, not fifteen, alright?"
"Whew! Two brave souls on Saturday morning. Miss Harris is doing thirty
minutes total. Okay, you two young ladies have twenty minutes each to
cook. If you start feeling too hot, just call me."
In no time at all the cabinet was filled with steam. I felt my legs and
arms begin to perspire, then my chest and neck. I couldn't move my head
too much because of the towel and the small neckopening. I could see
Terri out of the corner of my eye.
"You doing okay, Barbara?" Terri asked. When I assured that I was, she
continued, "At that temperature you'll find that you'll be pouring out
excess water in no time. Great for reducing, at least temporarily. Gets
rid of lots of nasty toxins. Still nothing like a good steam. Just
remember, when you shower, my dear, don't take too long or you'll
reabsorb all the water you lose during your steam. Date tonight, dear?"
"No, just meeting a friend. I want to make a good impression," I
answered.
I survived my hot steam, had a wonderful massage and headed home to take
my shower there. Following Terri's advice, I took as quick a shower as I
could. I did shampoo my hair. Sitting at my vanity in my bedroom, I
set my hair on rollers and covered my head with a hairnet and towel.
After a light breakfast, I applied an avacado facial cream to my face
and carefully polished my nails. Once my nails were dry, I searched my
closet to decide on what to wear. Finally, after much agony, I settled
on a turtle neck and a dressy skirt as the rain continued and it was
cool and breezy. High heels were a must-I remembered that June was a
good five inches taller than me.
The clock reminded me that it was noon. June and I had scheduled 2 p.m.
for coffee. I sat under my home hair dryer for twenty minutes to insure
that my hair was completely dry. After removing my facial, I nibbled
some fruit and cheese for a light lunch then began to dress. I knew we
would not become intimate this first time but I dearly wanted to make a
good impression. For basics, a ruby red bra and matching panties, silky
light tan thigh high stockings, a firm control beige-colored panty
girdle. Cranberry red turtle neck. Light brown skirt which fell two
inches below my knee. Matching brown pumps with 2" heel. I removed my
rollers and combed my hair as best I could, wishing I could have made it
to my hairdresser. Hair spray. Moderate eye makeup. Lipstick to match
my turtleneck. Enough blush to accent my cheek bones. Quick spray of
perfume on neck and wrists. Deep breath. Car keys and umbrella in
hand. Purse and sweater over shoulder. Look at the clock. And off I
went.
Rain dripped off my umbrella as I entered the caf? and said hello to
Sydney, the owner. Although I was right on time, June was already
seated with a latte in front of her. She looked fabulous in a flowered
top and brown-and-yellow broomstick skirt. Obviously she was not wearing
a bra for her nipples were visible through the fabric of her top. She
looked young and exciting Standing up to greet me, she kissed me on the
cheek. I could feel the moistness in my panties.
After I had my coffee in front of me, we started talking about careers,
education, families of origin. June was approaching her fiftieth
birthday in mid-November. Like my dad, her father was a veteran of the
Second World War. He had volunteered for the Army Air Corp which later
became the Air Force, and he became a pilot. After the war he stayed
in, making the Air Force his career. Her folks met in Chicago and
married at war's end. He retired in 1986 and settled down in northern
Virginia, not far from Washington, D.C. They had four kids, of whom June
was the third, having an older brother and sister and a younger sister.
Her mom seemed to like her sisters a lot more than she liked June but
June was her dad's "best girl." Dad taught her to shoot, to hunt and
to play sports. In high school she ran track and played interscholastic
basketball. When she went to college, she majored in sociology.
Eventually, she earned a masters of divinity and a doctorate in church
history. Although ordained in her denomination, she focused her career
in academia, only occasionally doing some preaching and often assisting
in the chaplain's office. Her most recent book had led this local
college to offer her a position, an endowed chair.
As we shared about ourselves, neither of us mentioned our love lives nor
sexual preferences. Our conversation stayed easy and light. June wanted
to know about my family, education and career. I told her a lot but left
out the key part. Before we knew it, the clock was approaching five.
We decided to "go dutch treat" at a nearby Chinese restaurant. After a
leisurely dinner, we headed back to our cars. Before going our separate
ways, we hugged and June kissed me tenderly on both cheeks. While I
drove home I squeezed my thighs together to feel the wetness in my
panties.
Once in bed, I could not sleep. The fantasy of being in bed with the
tall, athletic June almost drove me crazy. Images of her flashed
through my mind, which caused me to become wet. I pulled up my nightgown
and wiggled out of my panties, then rubbed my fingers over my special
place. My eyes rolled in my head as I imagined her kissing me. Her warm
lips rubbed against mine and her tongue tasted my lipstick then demanded
entry to my mouth which I willingly gave. My fingers softly and
repeatedly rubbed my womanly opening. I imagined her tongue tasting my
tongue, causing me to rub myself faster and harder. I put a finger
inside myself then another, pushing them in and out. Closing my eyes, I
imagined June putting four fingers inside me. I thrashed and squirmed.
My climax came with an intensity which I had not felt for years. My eyes
went wide open and I moaned "June! June!"
For the next three days I didn't hear from June yet I thought about her
constantly. I felt like a love-sick high school girl, wanting to hear
from her, not daring to call, replaying our time together, hoping I
hadn't offended her in any way. When finally she did call, I crossed my
legs tightly under my desk so I wouldn't pee in my excitement.
As I got into bed that night, I noticed that my nipples were hard and
erect. I touched them as I closed my eyes and imagined June with me. I
needed release then and there. My right hand slid down to my pubic area
and into my body. My legs moved apart and my knees bent a little as I
reached lower and got my hand in position for what I wanted. Two
fingers slid inside me and I shook all over with the thought of June
doing this to me. My knees felt weak as I stroked in and out with the
base of my thumb rubbing against my tender flesh. I moaned and squirmed
as I serviced myself with my hand. In short order I felt my orgasmic
release beginning. The heat coursing through me was intense as my hips
worked with my hand and my swelling excitement. My thumb rubbed harder
and harder, sending shock waves through me as my body erupted into a
strong orgasm. I shook and squirmed for what seemed like several
minutes. Finally, I just laid there like a mass of jelly.
Over the next four weeks, we saw each other several times a week.
Sometimes she came to the library; several times we went to campus
events or get-togethers with her colleagues or mine; weekend meetings
for coffee or informal lunches or dinners became regular. No matter what
we did or what we talked about, I could not help thinking about what
June must look like naked.
Finally, one evening as she walked me to my car after the library
closed, she took my hand and asked me for a date, a dinner date, a just-
the-two-of-us date, a real-live girl friend date, a romantic date. When
I quickly said yes, she leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth.
"Till Friday, love. I'll pick you up at your place about 6 o'clock."
My nipples grew erect in my bra and my panties felt soaked. At home, my
dildo helped me relax while I decided that June was going to have an
early birthday present-me.
My doubts that any woman would have an interest in a 53yearold,
plump, blonde-from-a-bottle woman like me had persisted so I determined
to do my best to get and hold June's full attention. In the weeks after
our first meeting over coffee, I began working out three times a week at
my health club. With a real "date" on the calendar, I made a shopping
expedition to find a skirt, blouse, shoes and lingerie for the occasion.
Then forty-eight hours before our date, I hit the panic button. As early
as I dared the next morning I called June and arranged to meet her that
evening for a drink.
At 7:30 Thursday evening I sat in a quiet booth in my favorite watering
hole, waiting for June and sipping a glass of wine, worrying that my
love affair was about to be over. June arrived minutes later, kissed me,
ordered a drink for herself and asked, "Barbara, are you okay? You look
upset."
I reached across the table and took both her hands in mine. Looking into
her eyes I could feel the start of tears in my own eyes. "Dear, I am
upset. I have something I need to tell you, something I haven't been
honest about with you and I'm ashamed. You see, I wasn't born a woman.
My name was Timothy before it was Barbara." She started to say something
but I put a finger to her lips. "Please, June, please let me finish.
This is terribly hard to say but I need to say it. When I finish you can
say whatever you like and if you are angry, you have every right to be."
Telling my whole story took a good half hour and another glass of wine.
When I stopped talking, June slid around to my side from where she had
been opposite me, without letting go of my hands. "Dearest, sweet
Barbara! God bless you, honey! I'd love to kiss you right now but if I
did the way I feel like doing it we'd be thrown out of here for indecent
conduct. Thank you for sharing so with me. All I can say, dearest, is
you are one fine woman. Goodness, look at you. You are the cutest,
finest, sexiest lipstick lesbian I've ever seen. I'm happy that you
trust me enough to tell me your life's story. But in terms of my
attraction to you, it makes me want you all the more."
"You're not angry with me?" I whispered.
"No, of course not."
"Are we still on tomorrow night for our date?"
"Absolutely!"
"Will you stay the night with me tomorrow night?" I asked, my lower lip
trembling.
"I was already counting on it, you naughty girl," she declared with a
smile. When she walked me home, she held me tight. At my door she did
kiss me, repeatedly, in ways that aroused us both.
"Until tomorrow, my dearest," she said.
I had already scheduled a vacation day on Friday and went to my salon
for the works: a total Brazilian waxing, pedicure, manicure, facial,
hair color refreshed and hair styled. I felt like a teenager getting
ready for her first date.
I came back to my house in plenty of time to dress. In fact, I had
decided on a ritual and my friend Maureen came to help. The preceding
Christmas, I had purchased for myself a custom-made Victorian under-
bust corset. I decided this date was the time to wear it. Maureen agreed
to help put me into it. I undressed and started with the basics-black
bra and black panties. Out of its box and tissue paper came my corset,
red in color, thirteen inches vertically, heavily boned with six
beautiful ribbon garters, hooks and eyes in front and laces in back.
"Are you really going to wear that thing tonight, Barbara?" Maureen
asked, incredulous at the thought.
"Yes, my dear friend, I am. Perhaps I was born a hundred years too late.
I should have been a Victorian woman. Perhaps I shall become one yet. I
am most definitely wearing this tonight," I answered.
"Better you than me, dear. Where do we begin?"
While I held the fabric around myself, Maureen did up the hooks and eyes
in front, then stepped in back of me to lace me up properly. What a
feeling it gave me to have her tugging at those laces behind me. Maureen
was a bit tentative at first, worried that she would hurt me. But I
urged her to go further. We started giggling like schoolgirls at one
point, joking about scenes from old movies. Maureen said she had never
laced anyone into a corset before and was finding the experience quite
interesting. When she had me done up as tightly as I thought I could
bear, I saw in the mirror that the opening in the back was not
completely closed.
Practically from the minute the corset was put around my waist and the
lacing begun, I felt erotic impulses. I loved my corseted shape, my
posture, the packaged feeling and the way my breasts and derriere were
set off by my narrowed waistline. It was about all I could manage to
keep from embarrassing myself in front of Maureen, but she smiled at me
knowingly and said, "You're really smitten with her, aren't you,
Barbara?"
"I confess that I am, Maureen. I'm doing all this with seduction
aforethought."
"You think it will work?"
"My female instinct says it will. I may be wrong but I think this will
turn her on. She has a strong romantic bent. I'll wager no other woman
ever went to these lengths to please her. Wherever she takes me and
whatever we eat, I intend to be her after dinner delicacy, her bedroom
tart. Look around. I've placed scented candles in strategic spots. I've
got romantic music on the cd player, ready to go, and lavender sachet
between the sheets and in the pillow cases. 'Welcome to my parlor', said
the seductress to the reverend."
"Whew!" Maureen laughed. "Talk about a seductive woman! Girl, you are!"
"Maureen, I haven't read all those books over the years and leaned
nothing." I did not mention that I had purchased a strap-on, at the
moment discretely but handily placed in the drawer of my night stand.
For a decade, I had fantasized, while using my dildo on myself, about
surrendering to a tall, sweet, attractive butch who would pleasure me
with just such a toy. "Now, girl friend, let me put my stockings on and
then, if you would be so kind, snug up the laces of my corset. Once the
corset is on, the material relaxes a bit."
I pulled up sheer black stockings and fastened them to the garter tabs,
making sure the garters ran under my panties so the panties could come
off before the stockings if necessary. Maureen snugged up my corset
laces as tight as I thought I could tolerate, but the corset was not
completely closed at the bottom as well as the top. I finished dressing.
Red slip. Oatmeal-colored blouse with ruffles at the wrists. Honey-
colored skirt which fell to mid-calf. Black, quilt-stitched pumps with
a metallic vamp ornament and 3" heels. Maureen kissed and hugged me
before she left. "Good luck tonight, Barbara. And if this broad hurts
you, I'll kill her myself," she laughed.
"Thank you, Maureen. Honestly, I think June is the answer to the wish
you gave me last spring at my croning. I think you have brought me
luck, my dear friend."
We kissed again and Maureen left. I sat down at my vanity to apply my
makeup. Eye shadow, mascara and eye liner. Foundation and blush. Lip
liner. When I came to my lipstick, I paused with the open tube in my
hand, thinking hard. Basically a virgin at age 53. A too well-rounded
derriere and plump waist. A dyed blonde. Was I throwing myself at
another woman who might really just want friendship? Was I over-
reacting out of desperation? Those worries about rejection which I felt
years before with Donna seemed to rise out of the pit of my stomach.
Well, I finally told myself, I no longer fear coming out as a
transgender lesbian. Better late than never. I decided that I wanted
June. I believed she wanted me. Tonight, I would take her to my bed,
spread my legs for her, and reach ecstacy.
*******
As I carefully colored my lips, I anticipated stripping for June and
letting her have her way with me. Better late than never. I applied
gloss to give added shine to my lipstick. Perfume in critical places.
I picked up my handbag and coat and walked into the living room to await
my date. Responding to the effects of my tightly-laced corset and my 3"
heels, I loved the swivel in my walk and keeping my back straight and
bending at the knees. Yet the thought nagged at me: if June did not
undress me, I would have difficulty getting out of my corset. No, I told
myself, she has already agreed to stay the night. I'm going to enjoy
having her undress me.
At ten minutes to six, I was ready. A check in the mirror showed all
looked well. If I was a smoker, I'd have lit a cigarette. Instead, I
just played with my polished fingers and hoped the clock would move
faster. June arrived at six on the dot. She wore an olive green pants
suit and matching ballerina flats. Bending forward, she hugged me
tightly, then pulled back, an inquisitive look on her face.
"Barbara, are you wearing a corset?"
I blushed, lowered my eyes and said, "Why, yes I am. Just a modest
Victorian librarian, properly and demurely dressed for an evening out,
tightly laced like a proper lady, for the sake of decorum. Really, I'm
an old-fashioned girl."
"My, my, how delightful," June answered. "You look good enough to eat,
dear."
I hope so, I thought to myself. "Thank you, kind lady," I said with a
smile.
She took me by the hand and walked me to her car. A half hour drive
brought us to the Clifford House, a very fine restaurant in the southern
part of the city. June had reserved a quiet corner table near the stone
fireplace, perfect for intimate conversation on a chilly fall night.
After we ordered cocktails-June selected gin and tonic, I opted for a
margarita-June held out her glass across the table as she said "A toast!
To a long and enjoyable friendship."
We clinked our glasses and I said "I'll drink to that," as we both took
our first sip together.
June smiled and said, "You certainly look lovely tonight. I really like
the outfit you're wearing."
"Thank you. I bought it to impress a friend," I said immodestly.
"The friend is very impressed and very thankful."
We chatted about insignificant things while we sipped our drinks and
made our selections from the menu. Finally, June ordered stuffed shrimp
with a side of rice and I ordered crab cakes with grilled vegetables.
Both of us selected Caesar salads and June picked a lovely white wine.
As we ate, we talked about books, renaissance and Elizabethan history,
contemporary politics, favorite poetry, plays and movies. June
impressed me with her intelligence and the extent of life-long reading.
After we finished our entrees and the waiter cleared the dishes, June
declined another bottle of wine but we indulged in coffee and dessert.
I opted for cheesecake with blackberry preserve topping while June
selected banana cream pie.
We nibbled slowly on our desserts and our conversation grew more
personal as we began to feel ever more comfortable together. Looking at
me intently, June commented, "Many of Sappho's poems focus on the
relationships among women. Some scholars speculate that her interest in
women was lesbian but it may also be accurate that it was more
acceptable in the past, before Herr Freud, for women to express strong
passions towards one another, whether the attractions were sexual or
not."
"'Once again limb-loosening Love made me tremble, the bitter-sweet
irresistible creature,'" I quoted.
June smiled. "One of my favorite lines as well. So we both know who we
are, don't we? Anything else you want to share, dear?"
"Yes, I don't mind talking about the past. There's nothing much that
was serious or long-lasting in my past, dear, other than what I told you
last night," I answered. Softly, I told her all about Gina and Donna,
about adjusting in the first years after my surgery, my needs and
desires, masturbating in the ladies room and my useful toys. I felt the
heat in my face and knew I was blushing. By the time I finished, June
was holding my left hand with her right and I could feel her shoeless
foot pressing against my stocking. "So for all practical purposes, I'm
a fifty-three year old virgin," I sighed. "So, what about you? Any
women you care to talk about?" I asked with a certain trepidation.
She proceeded to tell me that she had known by age twelve that she loved
girls, not boys. She enjoyed playing high school basketball to be able
to look at the cheer leaders in their short skirts. While working on
her master's degree, she had an intense affair with an older woman from
the Caribbean. During her first teaching job after she completed her
doctorate, she had a five year liaison with a bisexual married woman.
"Since then, nothing and no one. Since I met you, I have spent a lot of
time thinking about you. You are quite gorgeous. I have had a difficult
time putting aside thoughts of you. In case you didn't know, I am
terribly attracted to you, Barbara. I confess that I had hoped to
develop a relationship with you even before last night. Now I want you
all the more, knowing what you underwent went to become a woman. Right
at this moment, I want to make out with you, hold you, kiss you, talk to
you about all kinds of naughty things."
My cheeks flushed. I smiled at her. "Why don't you take me home and
come in for a nightcap? And whatever else I can give you," I added with
a wink.
"I just happened to put my overnight bag in my car," she said with a
mischievous laugh.
During the drive to my place, June's right hand rested on my knee. At
every traffic light or stop sign, we shared a kiss. We had barely
gotten in the door and taken our coats off when she pulled me tightly to
herself and kissed me, her tongue gaining entrance to my mouth. With a
deep moan, I closed my lips around June's tongue and began sucking on
it. Her hands squeezed my buttocks, hard. Our breasts pressed against
each other. My body shivered as June's tongue controlled my mouth and
her clinching held my ample bottom, all of which only heightened my
arousal. For long moments our kiss continued and then backing away a
step, June took both of my hands in her own. For another moment, we just
looked at each other, quietly holding hands. My heart was pounding. I
wanted to take her to the bedroom immediately. However, I regained my
composure enough to ask, "What would like to drink, dear? Red wine?
White wine? Whiskey? A cocktail?"
"Might I have another gin and tonic?" she responded.
"Certainly. Just give me a moment." I kicked my heels off, in my
stocking feet padded over to my liquor cabinet, fixed June a gin and
tonic and a scotch and soda to calm my own nerves. When I moved back
across the room, I saw June had taken her shoes off and was sitting on
the couch. I noticed that for a tall woman she had slim feet, covered
with dark brown trouser socks. The outline of her well-proportioned
breasts was visible under her suit and my mouth practically watered for
the sight of them. I handed her the drink and sat down next to her on
the couch. As at dinner, we clinked glasses and sipped our drinks. June
placed her arm around me. Those gorgeous blue eyes danced with
merriment and mischief.
"What are you thinking, professor?" I asked.
"Frankly, madam librarian, I'm debating if I should feel you up some
more, squeeze your lovely breasts, rub that sexy bottom, run my hands up
your stockings, you know, just to get you in the mood or if I should
just take you out of that lovely skirt and blouse first. I've been
admiring your corseted middle all evening and want to see for myself.
I'm more inclined to opt for the bold, second move."
"Goodness, professor, what's a poor, modest Victorian librarian,
demurely trussed up, to do? Heavens, how could I resist a fit,
attractive woman like yourself? I can merely trust that you will do me
no harm if you have your wicked way with me." We both giggled. "June,
let me finish my drink and give me one more moment, please."
I took two more long sips then excused myself. Once in the bedroom, I
lit the candles, started the cd player, re-applied my lipstick and
gloss, freshened my perfume and turned off the overhead light.
Returning to the living room, I took June by both hands and led her down
the short hallway to my bedroom. She stopped at the door, listening to
the soft music and staring at the candle-light. With a big smile on her
face, she stepped into the bedroom.
"My, my, madam librarian! You are prepared, aren't you?"
"Well, I just thought that some tall, attractive woman might want to
have her way with me tonight. And how could a poor, defenseless,
corseted, Victorian librarian resist such a strong, demanding
professor?" We hugged and kissed softly. I broke the kiss and began to
unbutton the top of her suit.
"No, darling. Not yet. Let me undress you first, please."
"Certainly, dear. I'm yours."
With gentle care, June undid my blouse and placed it neatly on a chair.
Next, she removed my skirt and my slip. Stepping back, she looked me up
and down as I stood only in my black bra, panties, stockings and red
corset. "Oh, madame librarian, you are bewitching!"
June nodded permission and I removed her suit and socks. She wore white
panties and bra. Her large, round breasts looked inviting but before I
could unfasten her bra, she pulled me close and with slightly parted
lips kissed me again. As our kiss lengthened, June moved her tongue
forward into my mouth. Without hesitation, her hands slid under the
waistband of my panties, grasped the ample cheeks of my tush and began
kneading them. I wriggled with pleasure as she held me close. As I felt
our pubic bones come together, I wrapped my arms around June's neck,
making our kiss deeper. I relished the feel of our breasts pressing
together and her hands on my posterior. June's tongue moved deeper into
my mouth while her grip on my bottom increased in intensity. I realized
that she was using her tongue to take my mouth as soon she would take my
womanly treasure. With her controlling my mouth and my derriere, I was
her willing prisoner. I closed my eyes, softly moaning with delight.
Finally, we pulled apart to catch our breath. We looked silently at
each other, each knowing we were on fire with passion.
June placed her hands on my breasts. She massaged them for a short time
before slipping
her right hand behind me to undo my bra which she dropped on the floor.
She leaned over and sucked my right pink nipple into her mouth, making
me coo like a baby from the thrill of her warm, sweet mouth on my plump
tit. After June had sucked on my right breast for some moments, she
moved to my left, lapping, sucking, pulling. I stuck my right hand into
June's panties while she was sucking on my tit. I found soft pubic hair
and wrapped it around my finger, making little finger curls. When I
touched June's clit, I felt her jolt.
When she stopped sucking my breasts, June looked at me with more
mischief in her shining blue eyes. "My darling librarian, in that corset
you are really exciting me. Perhaps, we should have talked about
Victorian history over dinner. In my almost fifty years, I have never
been with another woman actually wearing one of those. I'm finding it an
erotic experience. Of course, on the erotic side, I've read that women
report that orgasm while the waist is constricted is a unique thrill
that should be experienced. Your charming bosom, madam librarian, is
pushed up, making it more prominent and quite lovely. The whole corset
thing might improve one's sex life, and certainly add a bit of
excitement."
"Why my dear professor, you know how to make a woman blush. Whatever
would my mother say if she saw me like this, wearing only my knickers,
stockings and corset while kissing another?" I paused a moment, then
added, "June, I planned, I hoped this night to be an early birthday gift
for you. Dear professor, what would you like to do? Do you want to
unwrap your birthday gift? Please, feel free to do as you like."
"Are you serious, my dear? Because you are putting very kinky thoughts
into my brain. And it has been a long, long time without intimacy."
"I mean every word I said, dear. I've waited because earlier in life I
didn't have the courage to be true to myself. There is a lot of energy
built up inside me. And I know now that it is never too late. What do
you wish? This lipstick lesbian with a bit of a submissive streak would
love to surrender to a strong, passionate woman. What are you thinking,
my darling professor?"
"My beautiful, sexy librarian! I'd like to remove your panties. Then I
want to undo your corset and re-lace it myself. I want to make you
groan a bit and tremble. I want to make you thrash and squirm while I
take you again and again until you beg for mercy. I want to be eat you.
I want to feel your legs tightly wrapped around me, driving me wild as
you rub against me. I want to feel your tongue sucking my womanly
juices. To put it bluntly, madam librarian, I want to fuck your pretty
brains out, pardon my language. What would you like, dear? What are
your fantasies? We already know I'm sleeping here tonight. We have
hours to satisfy one another. Tell me true, dear, what can I do for
you?"
Her passionate love and honest desire made my heart leap. "I'll tell
you truly, my beautiful professor. I want to be laced as snugly as
possible in my red corset. I want to be a good little lover and serve
myself to my lover in the most submissive manner. I want to feel her
hands around my cinched waist. I want to be seductive and desirable. I
want to be petted and fondled. I want to be french-kissed while perched
on my lover's lap. I want to have my nipples tweaked between her loving
fingers and my bare bottom smacked playfully with the flat of her hand.
I want her to lace me up within a inch of my life to the point of being
breathless. I want to be taken by the waist and hoisted onto the bed. I
want my lover to take me as a demanding lover and make love to me while
I am helplessly corseted. I want to feel her tongue in my mouth and also
in that special place, licking my sweetness. I want to be penetrated and
brought to orgasm repeatedly. After she has taken me with her fingers
and her mouth, I want her to take me with the strap-on, hidden by my
bedside, as I have fantasized for years. I won't be satisfied otherwise.
Your Victorian librarian is a bit of a wanton hussy." When I finished,
I could feel the redness of my cheeks and a tear in each eye. I could
hardly believe that I had poured out all my fantasies to this lovely
woman. My insides trembled at the thought that she would actually do
those things with me and for me.
With a sweet smile, June said, "Of course, my love. We can do all those
things. I know there's a gorgeous tush hiding under those sexy black
panties. I want to see it up close." She licked her lips seductively,
causing another wave of arousal deep inside me. She knelt before me and
pulled my soaking wet panties down. Noticing my waxed smoothness, she
purred, "My, wonders never cease." Gently she kissed my hairless skin.
"Did you do that for me?"
"Yes, dear. A Brazilian waxing and oh, does it feel good," I answered
softly.
"Didn't that hurt terribly?"
"My dear professor, all the while I was being waxed, I closed my eyes
and fantasized about just this moment. You, gazing with desire on my
smooth mound and wanting me. Besides, darling," I added softly, "it was
easy compared to my preparation to become the woman I am today."
She smiled broadly. "Dear Barbara, your surgeon must have had divine
guidance. Look at you! Your are perfect, my dear, a gorgeous woman. You
need never be ashamed of your body, Barbara. You are as much a woman as
you could be." We kissed. She looked at me with her face full of desire.
"Let's turn fantasy into reality, you lovely lady. Step out of those
panties, my dear. And let me lace you up in that corset. I'm going
tighten you to within an inch of your life."
Not having a four-poster bed, I walked to the doorway and grabbed the
door jamb. I turned my head and watched as she walked towards my rear,
then I faced forward and awaited with excitement whatever came next.
With agile fingers, June had my corset laces loosened quickly. "Are you
ready, my dear Victorian lady? Let me tighten this garment around your
lovely waist. The thought of seeing your wasp-waist prevents me from
waiting any longer."
I felt her starting to pull on the top laces of my corset and over the
next few moments, she tightened them until the waist was reached, then
tying them off she started at the bottom of the corset. This continued,
top to waist, bottom to waist until I gasped and my breasts were rising
and falling in a way that she obviously found pleasing. Clearly, June
had a much stronger grasp than Maureen. "Are you alright, my dear
librarian?" she asked. "Can I continue tightening you?"
"I'm fine," I groaned and murmured, "Tighter. I want it tighter." I
noticed the increasing stiffness around my waist, my breathing a bit
constricted but deep within me a fire ignited in my loins.
"You really are a Victorian lady, my dear. Alright then. I'm going to
tighten you so that the corset is snugly closed, top to bottom, more
than you were before. Pull in, if you can, my dear." She secured the top
and the bottom once more. Next she grasped the laces at the waist and
started to pull, and pull with what felt like all her might and my waist
diminished slowly and inexorably. I gasped and my blood throbbed as she
slowly but mercilessly laced my corset entirely closed.
Finally, I moaned softly. "It's tight enough, darling!"
"Yes, you're right. Much tighter than before. If you look in the
mirror, you'll see that the back is perfectly closed. Your beautiful
breasts are jutting out in front, your waist quite narrow, all of which
is exciting me terribly." With that she scooped me up in her arms and,
despite my giggling protests, carried me several feet over to the bed.
She sat down on the bed and centered me on her lap. "What did you want,
dearest? My fingers tweaking your nipples, like this? And french-kissed
like this?" And she proceeded to squeeze and rub my very erect nipples
while her tongue again entered my mouth. Our tongues intertwined in an
erotic dance that increased my excitement.
By that time I was jelly in her hands, willing to do whatever she
wished. "Next on the menu, madam librarian, I believe was a bare
bottom smack, playfully administered with the flat of my hand. Do you
trust me enough to give you an erotic spanking?" June asked.
"Yes, darling, I trust you. I'm not into pain but playful smacks, yes,
you can give me those," I answered. Before I could change my mind, she
had me on my tummy across her lap and started smacking the cheeks of my
tush with her open hand. Five on my left and then the same on the right
one. It stung a little but I couldn't believe the erotic sensation it
had on me. I tingled all over and warmth seared me from the inside. I
actually kicked my legs in the air just like a little girl.
"Well, madam librarian, how did you like that? Have you ever been
spanked like that?"
A huge smile filled my face and I said, "Never been spanked like that.
It really did turn me on. It stung a bit yet felt good. I can't believe
I am going to say this but not only did that really turn me on but I
want you to do it again, spank me again, sometime but right now,
darling, wanton hussy that I am, I want to spread my legs for you. I
need you to take me."
June helped me to my feet, then stood. "Barbara, remove my bra and
panties."
I undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. June's breasts were large
and plump and feminine. I could not resist rolling each nipple between
my forefinger and thumb. A groan escaped her lips.
Taking the waist band of her panties in both hands, I slid them down to
the floor and she stepped out of them. Her neat bush made me want to run
my fingers through it. Her pussy glistened with her honey. The scent of
her arousal excited me. But before I could do anything, June scooped me
up and put me on my back on the bed. "Spread your legs for me, my
Victorian minx. I'm going to take my corseted librarian and have my way
with her."
I could barely talk as I spread my stocking-covered legs wide. I felt as
if I was drowning under waves of passion rising from my snugly corseted
waist into my bare breasts. On my bed before this tall, beautiful
woman, my loins were aflame with passion, my nipples growing harder in
anticipation, I wanted her flesh on mine, waiting no longer. I began to
undulate my hips to contract my muscles, wanting her on top of me, her
fingers in me.
"You're beautiful, Barbara. Yes, move your hips. That's a wonderful.
Don't stop." June's slightly strained voice betrayed the emotion
building in her.
I felt June position herself above my body. Initially, her breasts
rested lightly on mine. Then she began to move her breasts back and
forth over mine, our hard nipples making contact, sparks
flying between us. June moved her hips down onto my pelvis, grinding her
pussy into me in a short circular motion. On top of me with all her
weight, June began taking me with her pussy, her hips thrusting into me,
grinding her pelvic bone into mine. She was gasping from the physical
exertion. I was on the edge almost there but I needed more of her. And
then her mouth clamped onto mine, her tongue forcing its way into my
eager mouth. Swirling, teasing tongues, our mouths locked in a sweet
embrace. I bucked my hips, arched my back, making sure my crotch
reached firmly up to hers. We were rubbing together and June kept
pushing her pussy as far into me as she could. I was losing control, not
caring about anything else. "Oh June," I cried, my voice quivering, "I'm
going to come. Oh, take me, darling, take me."
June pushed me down into the mattress, grabbed my head with both of her
hands, squeezed her breasts against mine and I felt wave after wave of
pleasure as a deep orgasm filled me. In another moment, I felt June
orgasm as well.
Before I completely recovered my normal breathing, June looked at me
with both wonder and approval. "Well done, my Victorian lass. Remember,
I'm going to take you repeatedly until you beg for mercy. Are you ready
to beg for mercy?"
"No, not yet, my darling professor. All I beg of you is that you take me
again. I am a wanton hussy and I want to be brought to orgasm
repeatedly," I answered, raising my head and shoulders, feeling more
sexually excited than ever before in my life.
"You look so wonderful, so warm, so inviting. I'll try my best, my
wanton hussy, to make you beg for mercy." With that, June pushed me back
down. She went straight for my left breast, kissing, licking, sucking,
and pulling it in a ways that made me gasp. I felt my nipple enlarge
and go harder than I ever imagined possible. The right one followed suit
and reflexively, I pulled her head further on to me. The only sound was
a rather sexy slurping noise as June's tongue and lips worked on my left
breast like there was no tomorrow. I wrapped my legs around hers in a
scissor hold. Her hands squeezed my corseted waist while my hands held
her head against me. This was unlike any sensation I had ever known.
June was both gentle and forceful at the same time, and I could feel
every motion of her tongue and her lips. As I felt myself growing wet
again, June pulled away and then commenced the same sweet process on my
right breast. We both knew that she was taking the lead in our love-
making, that I would do whatever she wished
Eventually June pulled away from me, and panting slightly, her chest
rising and falling in time with mine, she looked deeply into my eyes. "I
said earlier, darling, that you look good enough to eat. Are you ready?"
The smile that accompanied her words told me exactly what she wanted as
sustenance. And I could not wait. I knew that women "ate pussy" but
never in my fifty-three years had a woman eaten me, nor I any other.
"Would you like to eat . . . me?" I squeaked. Better late than never, I
thought to myself. A fantasy of decades about to come true.
"Oh yes, my sweet librarian. I'm hungry and yes I want to eat your
pussy. Now."
I felt the warmth of a deep blush on my cheeks. "Oh my dear professor,
please help yourself. How can this poor librarian resist?" After a quick
pause, I added, "June, I've not been with a woman, in that way . . .
before . . . you see, in that way, I'm still . . ." and my voice faded,
terrified that I had just ruined everything.
June answered softly, "It's alright, Barbara. I figured as much from
our conversation over dessert. Let me lead, darling." Then, as if
reading my mind, she added, "It's better late than never. You need to
make up for lost time, my beauty. Don't move from where you are. I'm
going to prove to you just how complete and how fully womanly you are."
She looked down at me with an extremely suggestive expression and
positioned herself between my legs. When June made her first lick of my
wet pussy, I felt wonderfully happy. When she took her second, slow
lick, a little harder and more probing, I quivered. Lifting her head
to look up at me, June urged me, "Spread your legs wider, my dear. I
need a better position to reach my tongue into you."
I made no sound, simply did as June asked. With my pussy wide open, she
dove back into my eager, tender flesh. With her hands gripping me
tightly around my bottom cheeks, pulling me close against herself, she
licked, probed and sucked with an almost desperate power. I had never
felt anything like it before, the experience much better than my
fantasies. I could hear myself panting and moaning. "Yes, yes, oh June,
yes, yes." Obviously, June had done this before and as she settled to
her task, I moaned, I gasped, I grunted at times because it felt so very
good. Each movement she made intensified my pleasure. Gently, yet very
firmly, she moved one hand from my derriere and thrust three fingers
into my soaking wet pussy.
Sounding like a steam pipe, I could only say, "Yessssssssss." June
moved her fingers back and forth, deeper and deeper. I squirmed in
ecstacy. Her lips took hold of my clit, flicking its tip with her tongue
as she sucked it into her mouth. I wiggled and tossed while she held me
to the mattress, relentlessly increasing my excitement. Suddenly,
shudderingly and with a strangled cry, I came with great intensity,
depositing more of my womanly honey into her mouth and over her fingers.
I felt very thankful that we were in bed. My legs had turned to rubber
and I knew I could not possibly have remained on my feet.
Before I barely stopped shaking, June pushed herself up onto her knees
and with neither of us saying a thing, spread her legs on either side of
my head, her pussy poised mere inches above my face. Desperately
wanting to please her, I placed a hand on each hip and pulled her down
toward my lips. When her pussy made contact with my mouth, I ran my
tongue along all its borders. June was very wet, her woman scent
filling my nostrils. My tongue became instantly coated with her
precious honey and she reacted with a contented sigh, which pleased me.
The taste was different from what I had been expecting, musky, pleasant
and I found myself wanting to savor it as much as possible. I probed my
tongue between the folds of her pussy and she purred in response. I
found her clit and flicked it a few times with my tongue which made June
arch her back. Realizing that for the first time in my life, I was
actually making such intimate contact with another woman who was
obviously enjoying my efforts, my own excitement re-ignited. I used two
fingers to open up the lips of her pussy in order to get better access,
and when I did she moaned. June was so wet that I easily slipped three
fingers inside her and started to lick her harder until she was
writhing around above me. Faster and harder I licked her as though I
could not get enough, and my thrusts into her became fuller, firmer,
until I felt her tighten dramatically around my hand and her whole body
stiffened. I felt her come hard, not once but twice as I continued my
ministrations. Finally, she signaled that she felt satisfied and let
herself fall to my right side.
The soft glow of the candles shone on each wall and the ceiling.
Romantic music still hummed. June held me close and we kissed, petted
and cuddled while our bodies calmed. "Modest, demure, Victorian
librarian indeed," she finally said with a laugh. "I thought you had
never done that before."
"Well, darling professor, I've read a lot. I just tried to put it into
practice."
"Oh, god! I can imagine what you'll be like when you are more
practiced," June giggled. The blue eyes stared at me with more mischief.
"I said I would take you again and again until you beg for mercy. Are
you ready to beg for mercy, you Victorian vixen?"
"No, not yet, darling professor. Are you woman enough to keep trying?" I
said.
"Oh, you are a naughty tease, my dear librarian. In that corset and
those stockings, you are still inflaming me. To be a bit crass, you
brazen hussy, I think you need a good raw fucking, until you do beg me
to stop. Now where is that strap-on to which you made reference?"
"It's in the drawer of the night stand beside you. Are you going to do
that to me now?" I inquired in a slightly higher voice, my anticipation
and nervousness both obvious.
June stood up, moved to the night stand, opened the drawer, and took out
the harness and dildo. Fascinated, I watched her snap and buckle the
harness and position the phallus. As I looked at her, all I could think
of was that an Amazon warrior was about to make love with me. I felt a
little nervous about this long-time fantasy about to come true but her
loving eyes reassured me. My Amazon spoke. "I just want to give you the
fucking you crave, my beautiful, fiery vixen. Are you ready for me?"
"Yes, dearest. I'm a fox bitch in heat. I need you. Please take me now,"
I whispered.
"I know this is also new for you, my dear. I will go as slow or fast as
you wish. If it's too much, too uncomfortable, I want you to tell me,
then I'll come out. The dildo should be lubricated before I enter you.
Do you have any here?"
My face fell for a moment. "No, I didn't think about it. Perhaps, I've
petroleum jelly in the bathroom," as I started to rise.
June pushed me back onto the bed. "Wait, dear. Let me suggest something
first. If you're comfortable with this option, you don't have to get up.
Would you consider licking the dildo and making it wet with your saliva?
Remember, it's just a toy for our pleasure, no unwelcome male flesh or
taste. Not all women feel comfortable doing that. What about you?"
Her thoughtfulness comforted me. "Yes, dear, I can do that. You look
like an Amazon and I want my strong woman warrior to take me. Looking
at it protruding from you dear, I can lick it as part of you. Come, my
Amazon, take this woman you've conquered."
June smiled and resumed her position, spreading her legs on either side
of my head, the dildo above my mouth. I placed my lips around the head,
acting as if I'd done this all my life. As June eased more of the dildo
into my mouth, I slurped and licked, trying to make it wet all over.
"This is one way to keep my conquest quiet," she laughed, giggling the
dildo in my mouth. Only "mmmmmmm" escaped my lips. When she seemed
satisfied with how wet it was, June lifted herself off my face.
"Would you rather I licked that toy or your sweet pussy, my conquering
Amazon? If that pleases you more, well, I'll accommodate you," I said,
batting my eye lids at her.
"No, no! I take it back. I was being a tease. I'm sorry."
"How sorry are you? I'm still a fox bitch in heat, craving that fucking
you promised. Can you make me beg for mercy, my beautiful Amazon?" I
seductively challenged her.
Laughing, she positioned herself between my legs, moved them wider, and
lined up her mock cock with my womanly opening. She placed her hands
over mine, holding me against the bed. In a fierce whisper, she said,
"Yes, my lovely, I am going to fuck your pretty brains out, giving you
what you crave. We have years to make up for. I'm not stopping until
you beg for mercy." Slowly, adjusting to my smaller stature, June gently
entered me.
"Ooohhhh," I gasped.
"Are you okay? Let me just stay here a moment so you can get used to me
being in there. I've only put it half way into you," June gently
reassured me
"Yes, I'm fine," I breathed out, letting my body adjust to the toy deep
inside of me. Not only had I not purchased any lubricant, I had
purchased a larger dildo than I had previously used.
"How are you, dear? Ready?"
"Fine. Yes, I'm ready for you, now."
"Alright, here I come," June said as she kissed my lips while still
holding my hands to the bed. In one move, she plunged the dildo its full
length into me. One long moan escaped my lips. Moving back and forth in
long plunges, rhythmic and deep, she ground the dildo deep inside me.
It was not long before my hips began to move with urgency against her,
my eyes closed in concentration, my mouth panting. Bending her head
over my face, she whispered. "I don't want you to come yet, my love.
Not until I say so. Do you understand?"
I did not know how long I could hold out. However, I wanted to please
her as well as prolonging my own pleasure. Gulping, I whispered my
agreement. "Yes, darling, I won't come until you say so."
Keeping her hips still, June put her mouth to my lips, whispered,
"Wonderful, my beauty, well done" and softly kissed me. She moved her
mouth back to my breasts, and kissed, nibbled and sucked on my nipples,
until I was panting with need. Her hands continued gripping mine,
holding me in place, while I desperately tried to keep my orgasm at bay.
Our eyes met in silent understanding of our passion. June began moving
her hips causing the dildo in me to slide back and forth. Each time she
entered my depths, my eyes closed and I gasped, drawing in air with
desperation. Soon, I began to move my hips against her when she stopped
and was still.
I moaned with need. "Please love, please, don't stop. More. Harder. I
need to come."
"I know, I do too. Soon, my love. I'm not going to stop until you have
a crashing orgasm. I want you to put your hands above your head. Grab
the bed board and keep them there. I'm going to garb your waist. This
time we will come." Whimpering with my great need, I did as she asked.
With a steely grip on my tightly corseted waist and with a loud breath,
she plunged deeply into me. An intense moan came from us both. I
pushed my hips against her and crossed my legs over her derriere, trying
to wedge her more tightly against me. June's thrusting grew fast and
furious.
Pleading, I whispered hoarsely, "Oh, god, darling, fuck me, fuck, me,
fuck me. Make me come." With a sexy grunt, June pushed deeper and harder
into me than I had ever thought possible. The searing heat of orgasm
rushed through me from my crotch, up through my corseted waist, into my
nipples, out through the top of my head while at the same time running
down my legs and out through my feet. I was on fire. Crying out, I
experienced the hardest orgasm of my life. Through a blissful haze, I
became aware that June were moving equally frantically against me,
making matching noises. Repeatedly, we heaved against each other, until
I released my legs from her bottom and she let go of my waist.
After long minutes of holding tightly to each other, June stood and
removed the strap-on. I sat up and undid my stockings. With much
rubbing and petting she unlaced my red corset. In our nakedness, we
held each other. Our breasts, our pussies and legs pressed together.
Repeatedly we exchanged soft kisses.
"Thank you, June, darling.