by Tom Benson
During some of the activities, Heather could find herself being pleasured for extended periods by the lips, tongue, hands and sex toys employed by Tina. The way that Tina would sometimes whisper her intentions during the sex was a massive turn-on for Heather. Although she’d depended on a vibrator as a substitute lover after her marriage had ended, Heather had never envisioned having a strap-on dildo thrust into her, but it was done with skill.
Over time the two women shared a bed, Heather learned, not only what she enjoyed with a female lover, but also how to please that person. She too became adept at the use of the strap-on, and as the pair became more and more comfortable together, they ventured into territory which involved a small tighter hole than the one intended for penetration.
The anal activity was always known to Heather as a possibility, but not something she’d ever seriously considered. The trust she placed in Tina gave them both the option of using more than one device simultaneously, and their sexual activity blossomed.
* * *
.
Friday 8th November, 2002
Heather arrived home ready to enjoy a weekend of relaxation, love-making, and perhaps a night out at the club. She’d long been accepted not only as Tina’s partner but also as a regular face in the establishment where acceptance was important.
“Tina, are you home?” Heather went through the hall to the kitchen and dining area, but the place was in darkness. She flicked the light switch as she wandered back to check the rest of the flat. It was highly unusual for Tina not to be home first. Heather noted that the place was immaculate as usual, and returned to the main living area.
“What’s this?” She picked up the envelope leaning against the vase on the coffee table. A sense of dread filled her before she removed the note.
‘Heather,
I’m so sorry. I know we’ve had a great time together, and we said no promises, but I feel so bad about leaving like this.
Marilyn is dying from cancer. She only has a few weeks left, and I couldn’t stand by and let her die alone.
I’ve left enough to pay my share of the rent for the rest of this year.
Tina x’
Heather dropped the note onto the table beside another envelope, which no doubt contained the cash for two month’s rent. She walked across to the window. As she stared at the view of a small section of London her vision was blurred by tears. This wasn’t a rapid dash to be with a dying friend—travel arrangements had to be made, and that took time.
Fifteen minutes passed before Heather wiped her eyes and turned away from the window. She had to know if this was as cold-hearted as it looked. No, there had never been any love confessed between Tina and her, but she thought that there had at least been a mutual trust.
“Please, let some clothes be hanging up.” Heather moved one sliding door and then the other. The only items in Tina’s big wardrobe were coat hangers and a wardrobe freshener. Tears were threatening again as Heather crossed the room to the dresser and a chest of drawers. Nothing—not a bra, a pair of tights—nothing.
Heather and Natalie
“Brandy and coke please, Billie.” Heather hiked herself up onto a barstool. She nodded at the young man when her drink was served and then looked at the big mirror behind the bar. A familiar face was approaching from behind her.
“She’s gone then?” Natalie stood beside the bar and turned to Heather.
“Did you know she was going?”
“Christ, no.” The attractive brunette indicated a stool. “Do you mind if I join you, or would you like to come and sit with me in a booth—no strings; just a chat?”
“I’ll come and sit in the semi-darkness with you.”
Natalie lifted a hand as if to place it on Heather’s thigh, but thought better of the action, turned, and led the way to the small booth towards the back of the bar.
“How did you know about Tina going, Natalie?”
“I found out about Marilyn by accident—earlier today.” Natalie sipped her drink. “I was at the fitness centre and overheard a conversation between two of the staff—Tina’s colleagues, or ex-colleagues.”
“Are you sure it was Tina they were discussing?”
“No doubt, my friend. One of them said something about Marilyn having ‘no more than three months’, and the other person said words to the effect that ‘Tina will be left everything’, which I thought sounded a bit ominous.”
“What did you take from Tina being left everything?”
“Due to the fitness profession being what it is, they all keep in touch, especially if they go off somewhere nice. I know from the snippets of conversation that Marilyn has been on her own since she left Tina behind.” Natalie sipped her drink. “Marilyn has no close family, so if Tina goes over there to be with her in her final days, she’ll inherit the business.”
“She wouldn’t go for that reason, surely?”
“No, Tina’s not a mercenary type, but what those two had before Marilyn left was very special. I know that you and Tina have been great for each other, but would I be right in saying it was friendly and physical, but not romantic?”
Heather was astounded at her companion’s honest assessment. She nodded.
“It’s okay,” Natalie said. “Tina didn’t tell tales, but I know partners, and there is a difference when they become lovers in every sense.” She half-turned and smiled as she gently placed a hand on Heather’s. “Tina isn’t a bad person, and she’s done what she thought was right—don’t you go beating yourself up.”
“I should be able to handle this situation. I advise enough people about dealing with such things—”
“But, it’s a bit different when you’re the one in the firing line—isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, and thank you for lending me your shoulder this evening.” Heather lifted her glass and finished her drink. “I’ll get back to the flat and get to bed while my head is straight.”
“Hey, Heather.” Natalie reached out and held Heather’s hand. “If you’d ever like me to lend more than a shoulder, let me know.” She winked.
* * *
.
New Year’s Eve 2003
“Hi Billie, is Natalie in tonight?”
“She is Heather, and it’s great to see you again by the way.” The effeminate barman scanned the crowd. “Natalie’s over at the far end booth, and from here, it looks like she’s the odd individual.”
“Thank you, Billie. Could you organise a brandy and coke?”
“I’ll get it sorted before the bells—but only just.” Billie turned and fixed the drink. “Have this on the house, Heather.”
“You’re a darling. Thanks.” Heather lifted the glass, sipped the drink, and squeezed her way through the crowd on this special night. She arrived at the end booth at one minute to midnight and looked at the people sitting there. Two lesbian couples she knew, a couple of gay men she didn’t know, and on the end, as stunning as ever, Natalie, on the edge of the conversations.
“Natalie,” Heather said in a slightly higher voice than usual.
The dark-haired beauty turned and stared wide-eyed at the woman standing at the perimeter of the throng. “Heather.” She stood, held her friend by the waist and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Hi. I hope I’m not disturbing anything,” Heather said. “As you know I’ve been out of touch for a while.”
“A while—try a year, girlie.” Natalie laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re fine—I’ve been on my own for about six months, and it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ll be looking for somebody gorgeous to kiss when the bells toll at midnight.”
“No promises?” Heather gave a nervous smile.
“No promises.” Natalie lifted Heather’s hand and softly kissed the palm.
The music had been turned off. A chant celebrated the seconds counting down, and then came the sound of bells chiming in the New Year.
* * *
.
Wednesday 1st January, 2004
“Happy New Year, Heath
er.”
“Happy New Year, Natalie.”
Both women were holding a drink but used their free arm to embrace each other, and they kissed, slowly, softly and for longer than either had first intended.
“Heather, my girl, your kiss is as hot as your appearance.”
“That works both ways.”
“Let’s find a corner where we can breathe—and talk.” Natalie led the way, clutching Heather’s hand.
“Before we get too deep into anything, Natalie, I’m thinking of moving on, in more ways than one.”
“I knew you would, but I hoped I’d see you again. If you agree to spend one night with me, you will make me a very happy lesbian.”
Heather laughed, and then with more ease than she’d have thought possible, she leant forward and kissed the other dark-haired beauty again. “And you’ll make me a very happy bisexual.”
* * *
Heather had been lying, staring at the bedroom ceiling. She turned to gaze into Natalie’s eyes when she awoke. When Natalie smiled, Heather returned the gesture, and turned to stare up at the ceiling again. She sensed an exquisite touch. Heather lifted her head to look down to see her beautiful and buxom lover softly sucking on a nipple.
Natalie got into a kneeling position and then sat on her heels. “I slipped out of bed earlier and brought us some pineapple juice to refresh us after last night.”
“Thank you.” Heather half sat and reached out to lift the glass. She sipped the chilled fruit juice, replaced the glass on the bedside table and lay back, smiling. “How long did we—”
“About two hours, but only because we were both tired.” Natalie leant forward and kissed her lover on the lips. “Properly rested, we could go on for much longer.”
“Natalie, did you mean what you said last night, about helping with my book idea?”
“Yes, of course, I did. I’ll find people in the club who would be happy to answer your questions and give their honest opinions on every aspect of their sexuality. You did say the content was based on what you call perceived disorders, didn’t you?”
“Yes, because being gay isn’t a disorder, except in the eyes of a percentage of the population—usually those people who are so strait-laced that they can’t see beyond their own experience or opinion.”
“May I ask, is that how you felt before—”
“Before I had a lesbian affair—no, when I’ve said in the past that I was tolerant and broadminded, I meant it.”
“I know a dominatrix or two who might interest you—or at least their opinions and what they practice.” Natalie laughed.
“That would be amazing, and I’ll be indebted to you for all your help.”
“How long did you say you were staying around here before you move on?”
“I’ve paid the landlord for the apartment until the end of January, so I’m free to leave anytime, but I could stay there until the last day of January.”
“If you wanted to clear your perceived debt to me, you could move in with me until you leave, and then you don’t have a deadline to meet.”
“Natalie … I couldn’t impose—”
“You move in here with me for a few weeks and believe me, it’ll be me doing the imposing.” Natalie leant over on one arm and softly kissed Heather on the lips. “Think about it and let me know.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll think about it?”
“I’ll pack my things today—”
The rest was cut off as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
“One orgasm each … before a conventional breakfast.” Natalie laughed.
* * *
.
Sunday 7th March, 2004
“Natalie, I know we only had a few weeks, but you’ve done so much for me in so many ways.”
“Waking up with you every day has been a tonic for me.” Natalie stepped forward and embraced her friend. “Even if it’s just a brief note—please don’t be a stranger.”
“That works both ways, and if I get the book finished and published, you’ll have a signed copy, and you’ll be in the credits.”
“Take care of yourself, and don’t give up on men completely.” Natalie held Heather’s face and kissed her softly. “Go on, get out of here and let me have a cry.”
Heather left relationships behind once again to concentrate on her work—in a new job as a sex therapist in a private clinic.
* * *
LAUREN’S STORY
* * *
Teen Temptress
Wednesday 8th February, 1995
Nottingham, England
While the two fledgeling doctors in London were struggling with various issues early in their marriage and medical careers, 130 miles north, a teenage beauty was dealing with problems, but she was determined to resolve them to her personal satisfaction.
“Come on, Lauren,” Barry gasped between kisses. “Everybody’s doing it—”
“I don’t think they are, Barry.” Lauren used one hand to push away her eager beau, and with her other hand, she reached down without looking and gripped his wrist. “Don’t try and remove my underwear unless you’re taking them home to wash.”
“Aw, Lauren, surely you don’t want a reputation as a prick-teaser?”
“Oh dear,” Lauren fastened the buttons on her bulging school blouse. “There was me thinking that you were going to profess your undying love for me.”
“Well, you know how I feel about you—”
“No, I don’t, Barry, but go ahead and tell me—it’ll be the first time.”
“You know—I’m crazy about you, so I thought you’d want to—”
Lauren laughed hysterically.
“What are you laughing at?” The teenage boy squinted.
“I’m supposed to be so flattered when you say you’re crazy about me—I drop my knickers.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Barry.”
“You know I’m no good with words.”
“There isn’t a boy in this school who is good enough with words that I’m gonna let him fill me with teenage love-juice.” She gripped the bulge in his trousers. “Is it just me, or has your hard-on gone all soft?”
“Fuck off, Lauren—we’re over.” He pushed her hand away and pulled up his zipper. “Kenny was right—you’re just a tease.”
“Wait a minute, Mr Love Machine—are we talking about Kenny Barnes, who shot his load into his underwear while I was kissing him?”
“He said you kissed his dick and then wouldn’t swallow—”
“I didn’t swallow for him, Barry, and something else I’m not swallowing is that bullshit. I played with his cock for about two minutes when we were kissing, and his hips were moving like pistons.” She laughed. “If you don’t believe me, ask your friend Kenny where I wiped all the cum from my hand—he should say on his trousers. Remember the day he went home early—it was so that nobody saw the stain?”
When the bell rang to signify the end of lunchtime, Lauren opened the door of Science Lab 2, looked up and down the corridor, and made her way to the first lesson of the afternoon.
“Hey you,” Alison said as she walked faster to catch up. “Have you just come from the west block departments?”
Lauren grinned. “Maybe.”
“Were you with Barry?”
“Yes, but it’s over—after a whole two weeks of him not getting his leg over.”
“How long will you keep him waiting?”
“Forever, Alison—I’m fifteen years old, so I’m not in a hurry to lose my virginity. Our teenage Casanovas are only getting one chance with me.”
“How many boys have you gone out with now?”
“Barry is only the third, but all three have been the same—they want to dip their dick.”
Alison laughed. “You’ll get a reputation, Lauren.”
“Apparently, I’ve already got one, so I need the word spread that Kenny Barnes shoots his load into his underwear if you stick your tongue in his mouth.”
&
nbsp; “Consider it done.” Alison laughed. “What has he done to piss you off?”
“He’s putting it about that I went down on him and then refused to swallow.”
“Oh, God, swallowing—that’s gross.” Alison squinted and twisted her lips. “Just getting that stuff on your fingers is bad enough ….” The words trailed off.
“Oh—something you’d like to share, Alison?” Lauren grinned.
Alison’s face beamed, and she had difficulty not smiling. “What I meant was … I imagine it would be—”
“Come on—names, or I’ll tell everybody you’re a tease. It seems to be the way to go.”
Both girls were laughing when they walked into the English class, and several heads turned to stare at them; including Kenny and Barry. When the two girls saw their faces, they both burst into laughter again, and the boys looked away.
* * *
.
Friday 7th April, 1995
Since the break-up with Barry, Lauren avoided the attention of the boys in the class, preferring instead to rely on the friendship of Alison, the pretty, slim fair-haired girl she’d known since they were about ten years old.
The two girls walked most of the way home together, went shopping, and occasionally tackled a homework project at each other’s house. Anything like homework was usually done at Alison’s house because she had a big bedroom and the girls were left undisturbed to get on with things.
Where Lauren was looking more womanly as each school term passed, Alison had a lovely face but an athletic figure with only a slightly prominent chest. She had great legs, so the lack of a big bust was no real concern. Neither was the lack of attention from the boys—she didn’t need it yet.
It was one evening at Alison’s house that the relationship altered. Lauren had come around after changing, but Alison was still in her uniform. She’d unpacked her books, and the two girls were in Alison’s bedroom working through a list of questions together.
