by Anna Rose
I thought – and suddenly hoped – she hadn’t heard me, but eventually she spoke, sounding quite surprised despite her rejoinder:
“Always the quiet ones, ain’t it?”
***
“I reckon it’ll just be us tonight,” Helen said as we trudged into the house, shutting the door on a street lined thickly with snow. “Our mothers will likely be staying up at Jones’ manor for the night with the other domestics – same with the older boys. We were lucky to get home before the worst of it started.”
“What about young Simon and Harold?” I said, wiping snowflakes from my cheeks, and Helen flapped a hand.
“Mrs Morris down the road looks after them in the daytime; it’s best we leave the toads there tonight since she has two young ones and they’ll be surly if we take them from their friends.”
It was a little over a week since I’d walked in on Helen and her friend – and since I’d more or less revealed my desires to her – and the Moreland residence had been so busy since then with Christmas preparations underway that Helen and I had barely seen one another, waking early and coming home later than usual. Depending on the day, I found myself relieved over this one day but disappointed the next; I knew I’d be mortified to discuss my desires but at the same time, knowing there was someone else out there who knew was comforting.
I helped Helen boil some water for our baths, the two of us shivering in our sodden clothes, and afterwards we sat huddled in the kitchen, sipping tea.
“How will we get to work tomorrow?” I asked on a shiver, looking out of the kitchen’s tiny window at the thick snowfall.
“We’ll see – likely it’ll get worse overnight,” Helen sighed, and then she rose, taking our cups to the sink.
We climbed the stairs together and I hesitated before entering her room.
“I should sleep in your brothers’ room tonight seeing as they’re away – you’ll have the bed to yourself for once...”
“You won’t want to go in there,” Helen snorted. “Those lot are as filthy as they come.
Besides, on cold nights like these, a warm body beside you is a glad thing.”
Although I knew she spoke innocently, I felt my face warm, and offered a few half-hearted demurs before joining her, sighing in pleasure as my back met the softness of the familiar mattress a few minutes later.
“Did you leave a girl back home, then?”
I started at the casual, blasé question, having been on the edge of sleep.
“I did hear your right, didn’t I?” Helen continued.
Strangely, I didn’t feel embarrassed at her words. “No – that is, you aren’t mistaken. But I didn’t leave a – a woman behind.”
“Strange, ain’t it? I always used to think I was the only one who felt this way – I reckon our kind are more common than we think,” Helen mused.
“When did you know?” I asked timidly then. “About how you felt?”
“Lord knows,” Helen scoffed. “Kissed my first girl when I was young enough so suspect I always knew. Had some men I went about with, too. Just for appearances sake, you know – or at least, later it was for that. At first I went about with them because I hoped I’d change – how I felt, that is.”
I understood her all too well.
Helen shifted until she was on her side, facing me in the moonlit room, and our eyes met. “I imagine your mum will be looking to secure you a husband soon enough,” she mused then, and I shuddered.
“She can try as much as she wants – I shan’t marry,” I said defiantly, and she smiled a little patronisingly, I thought.
“You’ve never had a woman, have you,” she said, and it was more a statement than a question.
“Of course I have,” I assured quickly, and this time her words embarrassed me. “I’ve – well, I’ve kissed one before.”
“Well…that ain’t really what I meant,” Helen laughed. “But my point was, you’ll change your mind and settle down with a respectable man,” she patted my shoulder companionably.
“Just because I haven’t – haven’t lain with a woman before, it doesn’t mean I don’t know my own mind.”
“Well, maybe so, but a few stolen kisses ain’t the same as knowing a woman intimately,”
Helen retorted stubbornly, and I bristled at her superior tone. “It’s always the same story – you’ll wed a nice, wealthy gentleman and that’ll be that. I’m just speaking from experience, so there’s no need to get huffy. Not from my experience, of course, but some women like the idea of bedding another woman and nothing more. When it goes beyond kissing and a bit of petting, they’re quick to change their minds.”
Well, those women were certainly fools, I thought in wonder.
“I don’t see why it matters, anyway,” I grumbled then. “I shall probably never find someone as it is and shall remain ignorant of such things.”
“Oh? And what things are you wondering about?”
I knew she was goading me, but in the dark bedroom, with the two of us alone in the house, I felt like I could speak freely – as if we’d wake up tomorrow and none of this would have been real, that the memory of this conversation would merely disappear with the melting snow. “Well – the paintings I’ve seen…” I trailed off meaningfully.
“Muff licking, then?”
I nodded in acute embarrassment, more than happy for Helen to fill in the gaps.
“What else?” her warm breath on my neck made me shiver and I wondered if she was as aroused by the tentative conversation as I was.
“Well I…I’ve always wondered about touching another woman’s breasts,” I murmured shyly.
Helen easily and unhurriedly reached for my hand beneath the blanket and let it fall onto her chest – specifically, on her pump left breast. “Well, you can wonder no more,” she chuckled.
“Go on then – fondle away. Unless I’m not your type? Like smaller tits, do you?” she mused idly.
“No,” I said quickly, and laughed shakily at Helen’s arched brows and teasing smile at my hasty admission.
I didn’t move my hand away – but neither did I do anything more than revel in the soft warmth of her beneath my limp palm.
“You can play with them,” Helen urged, rolling to her back and throwing her hands over her head, her body relaxed, her voice sleepy. “It’s been a while since I was with a woman – and I like having my tits played with.”
Helen’s carnal words were all the more arousing for the casualness with which she uttered them.
Her eyelids fluttered shut and I stared at her moonlit face in surprise. I couldn’t quite comprehend how quickly the conversation had changed; how I had come to find my hand on her breast, but I decided not to question it further, so nervous and delighted that I could do nothing more than stare at her in bemused wonder.
I gave her softness an experimental squeeze, feeling her through her thin nightdress, and she murmured for me to continue, reassuring me as one would a frightened animal.
I complied, mortified as my breath hitched loudly in excitement.
I wanted to reach into the bodice of the gown and feel her bare skin but didn’t dare – and as if reading my mind, Helen began plucking at the tiny row of buttons, her eyes still closed. She took my hand and placed it casually inside her dress.
“Well, we would’ve been here all night if I’d left it to you,” she grinned, eyes still closed.
Closing my own eyes, I marvelled as my slowly seeking hand cupped her, as my palm grazed her hard nipple. Although I’d touched my own chest, the first exploration of another woman’s breast surprised me.
“That’s nice,” Helen murmured, and I grazed her nipples again with a little more pressure, shivering as she moaned low in response. Merely touching her in this was gave me more pleasure than I’d ever imagined.
I rubbed at her nipple for a long, delicious moment, feeling it hardening even more, and then
Helen moved to her side again, saying,
“You can touch the other one – if you want,”
she added the last a little hesitantly, and I opened my eyes to see her watching me.
I didn’t answer but instead slipped my other hand into her open bodice, each hand filled with her softness, and she grinned, her smile dropping as my fingers plucked at both nipples in the way my own did when I would sometimes touch myself in the bath.
“You only wondered about touching them, then?” Helen asked throatily, and at first I wasn’t sure what she meant, my head was so hot and muzzy with arousal.
I smiled at her. “Not just touching…”
A sharp little dart hit me between my legs as she pulled her bodice completely open, baring her large breasts to the moonlit room, the curtains thrown wide open as usual.
After a few more minutes spent massaging her breasts and watching her face – her eyes fluttering beneath her closed lids, her lips slighted parted – I bent and took a puckered areola into my mouth – a little uncertain – sucking on Helen’s nipple briefly before I placed my head beside her on the pillow once more, the tingle between my legs now a persistent, achy throb.
“Decide you didn’t like it after all, then?” Helen’s voice was slightly slurred.
“What? Oh, no – no,” I said hurriedly, not wanting to offend her.
“You’ve no need to mind my feelings,” Helen snorted, clearly guessing at my conflict. “I’m a big girl. Happened a few times before as I said – girls like kissing and a bit of petting but run away scared when-”
“Not me,” I interrupted her firmly. “I did like it, only I didn’t know if you wanted me to continue,” I gave her right breast a little squeeze in shy emphasis.
“You’re daft,” Helen scoffed, but I didn’t feel an answering offence at her words, not when she informed me that I was completely at my leisure to carry on.
“I like having them sucked – feels bloody wonderful, in fact.”
I watched, rapt, as Helen reached for the breast I’d left uncovered; as she pulled lightly at her hard nub which glistened with my salvia.
“You feel it right to your cunny,” she breathed in unashamed delight, and hearing her say that forbidden word aloud had my head spinning.
In the quiet room, my breaths sounded unnaturally loud. The response I felt below to her little demonstration was almost painful, and not needing further invitation, I shimmed down the bed again until my head was level with her chest.
Lifting tentative hands, I took both nipples between my fingers and tugged, Helen’s white breasts trembling at the action, and then I pressed my lips to her nipples, first one, and then the other, slowly kissing them, marvelling at the texture of her pebbled areola beneath my lips – and then I was blindly taking her hard flesh fully into my mouth, sucking at her, my eyes rolling at the simple pleasure of it.
Helen’s hand cupped my head, stroking my hair, holding me to her breast as she urged me on, and I tongued and suckled her until my lips numbed, until I felt myself drifting asleep, despite the heated desire between my legs.
I finally released her on a languorous sigh, the smacking sound of my wet mouth and her moist nipple sending shivers of lust through me. I rested my face in the warm, scented gap between her breasts for a moment, overcome with the desire and wonder coursing through me at how right this felt.
“Aye, well – for a beginner, you’ve certainly got a knack for it,” Helen complimented hoarsely as I moved up the bed again. “I’m close to coming.”
“Really?” I said shyly, knowing precisely what she meant, even if I hadn’t heard that phrase before. I reached for her breasts again, playing with them lazily as we lay side by side in the dark, cold room, the falling snow casting pretty, shadowy patterns over the walls. “Just from that?”
“You don’t know what you’ve been missing,” she scoffed. “I can show you, if you like?” she said off-hand, yet despite her usual forthright manner, I could tell that this hadn’t been said in a blasé way. It was more a tentative question.
“I’d like that,” I whispered, helping her with my dress until she gained access, palming me for a moment, rubbing at my nipples more expertly than I had hers, and then she was bending low and taking me into her mouth without hesitation, her lips moist and eager, tugging at me.
I felt the pressure of her working mouth all the way to my cunny, a fresh surge of moisture leaking from my centre, and I cried out for her to cease.
She leaned over me, lips wet in the pearly light filtering through the room, her bare breasts dangling above me.
“Well?”
I shook my head, “It was too much,” I tried to explain, squeezing my legs together.
“Told you as much, didn’t I,” she said cockily, and then she settled beside me again, stroking my covered hip.
“We – we’d better get to sleep – we’ll be up in a few hours for work,” I said then, pulling the blanket over my tingling breasts, moving away from her.
“Suit yourself – move over and let me get out of bed then, will you? I won’t be sleeping tonight until I’ve gained release,” and her voice sounded accusing and almost hurt.
“The house is freezing – stay in bed,” I shook my head. “Oh, Helen,” I said on a half sigh, half laugh, shocked and charmed by her bluntness despite everything. I wanted to soothe any offence I’d caused by my prior evasion of her touch – despite how much I’d loved it – and reached for her breasts again, my eyes searching hers in the inky room for approval.
“May I kiss them again?” I murmured.
In answer, she leaned over me, and rolling until I lay on my back and she above me, she placed her breast firmly in my mouth.
Her hand slipped between our bodies and moved rhythmically against my pubic bone as she pleasured herself, the movement becoming more frantic and jerky as I continued my hard tugs at her breasts.
I could smell the scent of her wetness as she massaged herself, and I was desperate for my own release, pressing my groin against her leg for relief. The surprising pleasure I gained from rubbing my clit against her generous, shapely thighs stunned me, and I came on a gasp, the climax sharp and almost painful, my mouth filled with her wonderful, delicious areola all the while – soon after, Helen cried out her own pleasure.
Despite how tiring the day had been and how draining my release was, I felt wide awake.
“My nightgown is all wet,” Helen grinned, sitting up and pulling it over her head, the moonlight highlighting her nude body before she slipped beneath the covers again, shivering.
I knew mine must be soaked; the centre of my legs was slippery with my release. Silently, I removed it, hands shaking, warmth filling me at Helen’s pleased smile.
“That was wonderful,” I said shyly then.
“Well that’s one word for it,” Helen laughed, throwing her arm around my waist and moving closer under the cover.
Her hard nipples brushed against mine, and I felt myself getting excited by her again. When they brushed against me again, I knew it had been deliberate.
Wordlessly, we delighted in the shy press and slide of our bodies against each other as we tried to get warm – or used that as an excuse to touch.
“I’m still a little cold here,” Helen whispered teasingly, bringing my hands to her breasts, and I warmed them thoroughly for her.
The covers started to shake a little and I realised she was pleasuring herself again.
“Let me,” I whispered back, and she nodded, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Please,” she sighed.
I touched her slippery folds slowly, hesitatingly, rubbing the way I liked to be touched, and as
I briefly circled her hot entrance, only to move away again, Helen’s hand around my wrist stayed me.
“Touch me inside,” she said huskily, her hand stroking my buttocks, and I swallowed nervously, my lack of experience versus her seeming wealth of it making me feel inadequate foe the first time; I’d never even touched myself inside before but curiosity and the need to desire to pleasure Helen gave out.
I slowly e
ntered her body with my index finger, her hot, wet inner walls clutching at me.
Helen’s head slipped from my shoulder and rested on my chest and at the feel of her hot tongue on my nipple I bucked.
I fingered her a little deeper and she sucked me a little harder – my breasts had always been sensitive, but I was surprised to feel the tightness in my centre building in that familiar way as Helen tongued me.
My second release came more slowly.
“It’s alright,” Helen said against my breast, still sucking, “You can be as loud as you want,” she moaned, before she swore, her meltingly hot cunny squeezing around my thrusting finger.
For the first time since I’d shared her bed, I didn’t sleep on the extreme edge that night.
