Techno CultivatorChapter 11 The True Spirit
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A Released Spirit free porn video
What can I say about this. I just wanted to try something different.
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How do I start something like this? How can I put into words my feelings about what has happened to me, how my life has changed so much, how everything I thought about myself has been turned on its head?
I won’t start at the beginning, that is too much of a cliché, but I will say I had a conservative childhood with middle class parents bringing me up with the usual moral standards and expectations of behaviour. Nothing exceptional to say just a normal process of childhood, teenage years and marriage. It is after the marriage failed that things became, at least for me, out of the ordinary. My husband went and did the typical thing of screwing his secretary, totally unimaginative if you ask me now, then of course I went crazy, threw ornaments and generally slipped into a state of depression. We had no children so I was left alone, most of our friends were mutual so some followed him, a couple stayed loyal to me. There was only Estelle who was truly my friend.
Estelle. Oh what can I say about Estelle. A free spirit is the best way I suppose, she had never married but had never been short of boyfriends, admirers and the occasional Romeo who would offer to throw everything away for her, declaring undying love and devotion. She let them play a bit and then casually discarded them, not horribly or callously but with a gentle, soft smile and an elusiveness akin to those fairy figures always at the edge of our imagination. Discarded lovers would cherish her always, their eyes would brighten at her name, a fleeting thought, a memory. Estelle represented, does represent, the side of us that we often cannot find, the free unchained energy that feeds on all the good in life and having digested it offers it back as something more, something almost purer.
Estelle has changed my life forever. You see last night she made love to me. There, I have said it. I made love with another woman, me, little bashful Alice. I made love with another woman, to another woman and had a woman make love to me. Given my background this is, was, monumentous. How do I feel? What do you think? I feel like something inside of me has been let free, that perhaps something of Estelle’s wonderful outlook on life has rubbed off onto me, if you will excuse the pun. I haven’t turned from men. I am not looking for a relationship with Estelle, a woman or a man at the moment. It is just that something happened last night, it wasn’t the sex, it was something bigger. Perhaps you know what I mean, perhaps I do not need to explain it. I sense though, that you do want to hear about… it. I thought so you naughty minded soul. OK. This is what happened.
Estelle was due to come round and cheer me up. As I said I was depressed and Estelle had taken it upon herself over the last few months to bring me back to the living. I don’t know if what happened was planned, I don’t care. We were in the living room, drinking wine and watching a film. I can’t even remember what it was. I was wearing white cotton panties and a baggy T-shirt with my hair loose. I had bathed and wore no make up or jewellery. I was leaning against the arm of the couch with my legs draped over Estelle who was curled up on the sofa next to me, she wore a loose flowing dress which covered her up.
As we watched and talked I became mildly aware that she was ever so softly stroking my foot. Not sexually, just absent mindedly running her fingers across my ankle and down to my toes. I have always had sensitive feet to the touch, not ticklish, a sexual sensitivity which no one knew about. At this moment, with the slight haze of the wine relaxing me I had become very slightly aroused without even really knowing why. I was staring at her fingers as they caressed me and she must have sensed something because she stopped, our eyes met and I heard a faint, far away voice say don’t stop. It was me, I had actually asked her, in effect, to carry on stroking my foot knowing that for me at least it was sexual. She did and we carried on chatting but now her fingers were more purposeful and she started to massage my foot. I groaned. It felt glorious, shivers travelled up my leg, my nerves came alive. My head fell back as she worked magic into both my feet. We stopped talking. My breathing became deeper. I wasn’t aware of it consciously, she told me afterwards, but at this point my thighs had fallen apart slightly, the T-shirt risen exposing the gusset of my panties, my wet panties. When her hands started to work up my legs I didn’t protest.
She spent ages massaging the full length of my legs. She was good, oh she was good. At what point the whole thing became sexual for both of us I don’t know but her fingers lifted the waistband of my panties and I lifted my bottom. I actually helped her to take my panties off. By now I was lost. I pulled my T-shirt off and lay before her totally naked, nothing on my skin, my legs open, my head back over the arm of the couch so I couldn’t see her, my hands stole to my pussy and I started to masturbate in front of her. I had never done this in front of anyone, not my husband, not anyone. I could smell myself, my body was alive like it had never been before, my pussy responded to my fingers in a way I had never felt, I became wetter than ever before, I was convinced my clitty had got bigger. The I felt her.
Estelle, naked, came above me and without any hesitation we kissed. Deep, urgent kisses, her body pressed down against me as if she were a man lowering to his niche, her pussy pressed onto my hands as I moved my fingers across my pussy, slipping them inside, rubbing round my clit, I could feel her wetness, her velvet lips, her hard bud on my knuckles. Deep, deep inside me, as if there was a well hundreds of feet down in my stomach something stirred. My legs wrapped around hers, I twitched as her soft smooth skin rode against mine. That stirring became bigger as if a bubble under water was rising to the surface, I was becoming frantic my left arm came out from between us and gripped her back, my right hand was moving on my pussy faster, I settled into a rythym building in speed which was translating to Estelle, both of us writhed against each other, our kisses became more aggressive, we both grunted almost animalistically. The bubble was getting unbearable, it wouldn’t burst it just wouldn’t, I rubbed faster and harder and then Estelle screamed into my mouth her body went stiff and spasmed, I felt her belly convulse, her pussy sucker my knuckles and it suddenly hit me, this woman, my best friend was climaxing on top of me. Oh oh oh oh, that bubble, it exploded, it came rushing to the surface, my knees bent, my toes curled, I tried to close my thighs but there was a beautiful orgasming woman between them, my tummy went into spasm, I swear I felt my nipples stab into Estelles breasts and my pussy clamped shut around my fingers as my thumb crushed my clitty. I saw colour, flashes of colour, our mouths glued together, we weren’t kissing we just pressed out lips and tongues together.
Anything after that, at that moment is a blur. I remember becoming aware of her on top of me, slumped in exhaustion, my hand sandwiched between our saturated pussys, her face in my neck. We lay in silence for ages.
We did make love all night and I would love to tell you about it, but I have to pop out now. I am off to buy new clothes and have a facial and all the beauty treatments I deserve. Today is the start of the new me, form now on I am the wood nymph, the dancing fairy, the flame of life’s passion at the edge of your chained and imprisoned existence. Whenever life needs that extra risk , that spark of energy you often and feared to muster. Think of Estelle, think of me.
Sherry
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