Woman to Woman

by Tom Benson

  Steve reached for his small sachets, tore one open and handed it to Lauren. “Thank you,” he panted and lay back to watch the beauty kneel beside him, as she first played with his shaft, and then eased the rubber down over the throbbing length.

  Lauren maintained control by first kissing her man and simultaneously working his covered cock with a hand. She moved to his ears and whispered what she was intending, and then worked down his body, nibbling, kissing and licking at him. When she reached his cock, she held it up and took his balls into her mouth to suck first.

  “Oh, Lauren … that is—” His eyes opened wide when the sweet lips kissed and then slipped over the head of his cock.

  Lauren smiled inwardly at the thought of this macho man having a strawberry-flavoured cock. She knew how sensitive he would still be with the protective sheath clinging to his throbbing shaft. Lauren held his balls and slowly lowered her head to take more than half of the cock into her mouth.

  Steve prided himself on his stamina, but on this occasion, he was bested by desire, and the sight of such a gorgeous girl going down on him, sheath or otherwise. When he shot his load, he automatically reached down to hold Lauren’s head, but a glance up at him saw his hands moving away.

  * * *

  One week after the first time being sucked while wearing a condom, Steve was desperate to go further with this temptress. For the first time in a relationship, he was not in control, and he was not getting anywhere without protection—a price he’d pay for a while, but he had a plan.

  They went through the usual sequence of foreplay, and Steve had buried his tongue inside Lauren before capturing her clit to tease her to a great orgasm.

  “You’ve been … very patient,” Lauren whispered into Steve’s ear between kisses.

  “I’m trying to show … that I can be trusted … and you … are worth waiting for.” Steve leant over to the bedside table to lift the now customary flavoured condoms.

  “What have we got tonight?”

  “Pineapple,” Steve whispered.

  A few minutes later, Lauren stopped sucking on the pineapple-flavoured condom and looked at her man who was breathing heavily. “I wondered … if my pussy might like … the taste of pineapple.”

  “What—” Steve’s lips remained parted, and his eyes opened wide. “Do you mean—”

  Lauren got up to squat over his thighs. “You stay … on your back … until I’ve got you … inside me.” She knew exactly what to do, and what to say, and was rewarded by obedience. Lauren shuffled forward on her knees and reached down to hold Steve’s cock upright. “Don’t do anything silly.” She lowered herself and gasped as the hot shaft entered, and slowly filled her pussy.

  “Oh … Lauren … you feel … oh my God.” Steve reached forward to toy with his lover’s nipples and showed restraint as he employed fingertips and played gently.

  Lauren lowered herself and panted as she impaled herself slowly again, and again, rising up slowly in between. “Now, I’ll lean forward … so you can … show me … how good you are.”

  When the beautiful face came near and the big soft breasts pressed against this chest, Steve brought his legs up, bending his knees to support and maintain the position. “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck me, Steve … but fuck me gently.” Lauren leant forward and kissed him passionately, enjoying the thrusting of the big cock up inside her. She relaxed and enjoyed the way her man lost all control after a few minutes and just pounded her selfishly. Lauren had expected it, but unknown to her lover, it was what she wanted. She’d wanted to be ‘taken’.

  Every night for the week the pair enjoyed each other. From the second night, having already offered her honour, it was Lauren who sucked Steve until he’d shot his load, and then when he’d recovered, he was allowed to pull on another sheath and fuck the girl mercilessly. When they had sex, they enjoyed a variety of positions, and the use of protection became normal to Steve.

  Less than two months after Lauren had lost her virginity and started getting used to sex, Steve came up with a novel way to impress the woman in his life. They were resting in bed between romps.

  “What do you think of Terry, Lauren?”

  “He’s a nice guy—clean, tidy and presentable.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed him looking at you, but he’s besotted with you.”

  “Did he tell you, or did you notice it yourself and ask him?”

  “I had a talk with him one night when you and Becky went out to see a chick-flick.”

  “How bad has he got it for me, then?”

  “Some girls might think this is gross, but I reckon you’ll be able to appreciate it—he told me he’d be happy to … stand near the bed and … you know give himself one while he looked at you.”

  “Are you serious—he’d give himself a pull, just by looking at me?”

  “Yeah, he’s got it pretty bad—that’s special isn’t it?”

  “It’s special alright, and what would you be doing—standing on the other side of the bed doing the same thing, or would you be humping me in front of Terry?” Lauren hid her disgust by pretending to be impressed.

  “If that’s what you wanted, babe, either way.”

  “What other ideas have you two discussed?” She was interested in the guy’s train of thought, not participating in his sexual fantasies. “You must have come up with more than that.”

  “Well … you know how, when I’ve shot my load once, you like me being ready to go again?”

  “Yes.”

  “We thought it might be good if we both took you, you know, one after the other, or maybe both ends at once.” Steve’s breathing was erratic as he let his thoughts loose. “I’ve imagined just how much pleasure we could give you—if you had two of us.”

  “Will you let me think about it, and I’ll tell you what I decide?”

  “Yeah, sure—take as long as you want, but I’d make sure you didn’t get hurt, you’d just be pleasured, and we’d take you to heaven.”

  “Wow.” Lauren nodded. “It sounds like you two really want to take care of me.”

  “Oh we do, we both do, and you’d have the time of your life.”

  They lay there for a while amidst their own thoughts.

  “I’ve got an idea, Steve.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Friday now, so I don’t want any more sex between us until Tuesday.”

  “Why—” A slender forefinger on his lips silenced him.

  “Becky is out on Tuesday night, so I want you, and Terry showered, and in here, naked waiting for me at seven on Tuesday evening—ready for a night neither of you will forget.” Lauren leant over, kissed him on the lips and then stood and lifted her clothes. “Until Tuesday, lover boy.”

  “Tuesday, my insatiable lover—you’re gonna love it, Lauren.”

  * * *

  Tuesday would come around quickly, but Lauren had been aware that on Monday she’d be free to look around the flat, in preparation for what the two guys wanted. When there was nobody else in the apartment, she went into Steve’s room and Terry’s room, searching every drawer. It was only when she pulled a large holdall from under Terry’s bed that she felt she’d done the right thing by pretending to be interested, but stalling. Lauren didn’t feel guilty about invading their privacy.

  “You two dirty bastards were intending to invade much more than my privacy.” Lauren emptied the contents onto the floor of Terry’s room. She lifted out a rope, handcuffs, a gag, a tube of lubricant, and a few sex toys, including a dildo which had a long phallic shape combined with a larger than average ‘finger’ for use on a woman’s alternative entrance. “Double-pleasure, but only if it was desired—sure.” She replaced the items and pushed the bag under the bed.

  Having made the discovery, it meant that Lauren had to act normally, which she found difficult, but when questioned she said she might have eaten something that didn’t agree with her.

  On Monday, Lauren took the opportunity to investigate
something else, and by late afternoon she was happy with her plan. She wrote a note for Becky because the girl had come to her aid in a time of need. Her friend deserved an explanation. The message would have to wait until the remainder of the plan was in place.

  * * *

  .

  Tuesday 16th September, 1997

  Steve and Terry were both full of the joys of spring and after breakfast, they set off to take the bus to university with Becky. Lauren said she had a few things to prepare for the evening, and then she poured herself more tea.

  She carried all of her belongings out to the hallway and then reread her note.

  ‘Becky,

  I know you won’t see this until Wednesday, and I hate to be leaving at short notice.

  Steve is handsome and a charmer, but he wanted me to be a plaything for him and your other flatmate, Terry. I let them think Tuesday evening was okay. I did that to give me time to get away.

  Take a look at the bag under Terry’s bed—but don’t get caught.

  I’ll call and explain later this week. You’ve been a good friend, and I’ll be there for you if you need me.

  Lauren x’

  Lauren folded the note and pushed it into the toecap of one of Becky’s favourite training shoes—not a place a guy would go snooping.

  * * *

  An hour after leaving the apartment, Lauren was knocking on the door of a hostel in a different part of London. It was a fortuitous move in one respect—she was much closer to the university she’d been accepted into. She paid to live at the hostel for a week. Circumstances changed rapidly.

  The caretaker was Sarah, a woman in her forties. “Are you studying art, love?”

  “Yes, why?” Lauren knew the portfolio case was a giveaway.

  “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but there’s a nice guy a few streets away from the university, and he’s looking for a live-in caretaker—for his private art gallery.”

  “You’re sure he’s okay where young women are concerned?”

  “He’s a lovely man, and I’ve known him for years. You being a young woman is a bonus. You’ll be quite safe around him if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her hips and winked.

  “Thank you, Sarah—would you mind calling him for me? I could see him tomorrow.”

  “You get settled in, lovey, and I’ll fix up an appointment for you.”

  Five days later, Lauren was settling in again, but in the studio flat above Gordon’s Gallery in the King’s Road. Having met the pleasant and effeminate forty-year-old man, Lauren thought he could call the place Gay Gordon’s Gallery, but she didn’t suggest it to him.

  Lauren was able to attend university for her art studies and work several shifts each week on the shop floor of the small gallery. Her knowledge of art and her people skills improved sales for her landlord in a short time.

  By the time she’d lived upstairs for a few weeks, Lauren was comfortable with her surroundings and the type of people who visited the gallery. She also invested in an exercise bike and a selection of hand-held weights so she could exercise regularly. Her diet was healthy—usually.

  “Gordon, I had an idea for the gallery which I thought might work for you.”

  “Go on, Lauren, darling?”

  “I do a lot of my practical work upstairs, and I thought it might be a bit of an attraction if I was to set up in a corner down here.”

  “Do you mean like a live demonstration area?”

  “Yes, there are lots of people who study the paintings you’ve got for sale, but they ask about techniques, materials and so on. I thought I could work with acrylic and maybe produce a few pieces for sale—all the money going into your funds.”

  “I like that plan up to a point, Lauren, and that point is the sale of your work. If you sell any of your paintings or sketches, it’s your money … and all framing equipment out back is free for you.”

  In the weeks before Christmas, Lauren sold several pieces she’d painted on site.

  One Saturday evening in December, Lauren locked up. “I think as we go into 1998, things are looking promising for you Miss Ashton.”

  Lauren Steps Up

  Monday 6th August, 2001

  This was supposed to be a special day. Lauren didn’t feel any different. Life would continue much as it had been. Her degree course was going well, and every spare hour was spent drawing or painting—mainly work which sold from the gallery. It was a non-study day, so she was in the back room of the small gallery having a coffee before opening up. She turned when her landlord and manager walked in.

  “Good morning, Gordon. I didn’t expect you until late this afternoon.”

  “I’ve been here a little while, and tried to keep quiet,” Gordon said. “I know it’s your twenty-first birthday, and I wanted to show my appreciation with my gift. I hope you like it.”

  Lauren fixed him a coffee. “Go on then, where is it?” She laughed and shook her head.

  “I’ll show you after we’ve had our coffee.”

  When they went through to open the glass entrance doors, Gordon stepped outside and nodded for Lauren to follow.

  “Oh, Gordon.” Lauren’s eyes filled rapidly before she hugged the man who had taken her in as caretaker and lodger over three years earlier. Up until this moment, any of Lauren’s sketches and paintings which were for sale would be situated within the gallery inconspicuously among other, more expensive pieces. As she stared in disbelief, Lauren saw that her work was now featured in the centre window with a beautifully-handcrafted sign.

  ‘Resident Artist—Lauren Ashton - Commissions Accepted’

  Gordon laughed. “I know it will be a double-edged sword, darling, but you’ll have control. You set your prices, and you only accept the work you’d be happy to produce. My only stipulation is that you do not overcommit yourself.”

  * * *

  During the latter part of 2001, and most of 2002, Lauren was occupied doing what she loved. In that same period, she went out with only three young men, all briefly. In late 2002, Lauren graduated with her degree in art but had no need to look for work.

  Gordon closed the gallery to attend the graduation ceremony, taking photographs, of course, so that there would be at least one good one to display in the window with Lauren’s work. When they arrived back at the gallery, he told her to change, and he whisked her away to a fancy restaurant for a celebration meal.

  Lauren felt like a princess, wearing her favourite dress and shoes, and being guided to a table in such a beautiful place. “Gordon, where is Luke—surely he’ll be wondering about you taking me out?”

  “This is our night, Lauren, darling, and he knows I’ll make it up to him.”

  Lauren grinned as she listened to the softly-spoken gallery owner. “Will he want you to do something extra special?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you what he likes most, darling—I’d spoil your appetite.”

  They both laughed and had to cover their mouths to prevent nearby diners staring.

  The pair enjoyed a sumptuous meal, with wine, and it struck Lauren that she was at home being unattached. She chatted to Gordon as usual and only because of the surroundings it became clear to her—for more than three years Gordon had been more like a friend than a landlord and boss.

  “Right,” Gordon said. “For your twenty-first, you got the feature window of the gallery, so it’s only fair that I offer you something special as a graduation present.”

  “Gordon, you’ve done so much for me—”

  He held up a hand. “You may say no, however, I’m hoping you accept.”

  Lauren sipped her wine and carefully placed the glass on the table. “I’m listening.”

  “You have your qualification now, so it means you’re free to do as you wish. I’d like to offer you the position of full-time manager of Gordon’s Gallery.” He paused briefly. “You’d be paid the appropriate rate, and you may stay in the studio accommodation as you are, rent-free. If you accept, I will, of course, con
tinue to come in and do some shifts to allow you a break or time off.”

  “What about the commissions I’ve been accepting—”

  “The only difference to your output my darling is now that you have letters after your name, you can charge more for your work.” Gordon lifted his glass, and it was met across the table with Lauren’s glass and made a light tinkling sound.

  “I accept … if I’m allowed to make some minor changes, and pay at least half-rent.”

  “Darling, I’ll let you pay a quarter-rent, and you can redecorate the entire building if you wish.”

  They both sipped their wine, and a weight was lifted from their respective shoulders.

  * * *

  .

  Thursday 3rd October, 2002

  Lauren had seen the handsome young man at least five times over two weeks. He was about her age, with long fair hair and an athletic build. Each time, Lauren had been in her special live demo area painting or drawing. She’d lived and worked in the studio for long enough to recognise regular visitors to the gallery.

  The visitor was standing in front of a large painting but trying unsuccessfully to steal glances at the artist as she worked.

  Lauren watched him as she cleaned her brush, removed her apron and wiped her hands. It amused her when he glanced at her, realised he’d been caught, and looked away. The young artist smiled and strolled across into the main exhibition room of the gallery.

  “Hi. Is there anything I can help you with, or did you just come in to look—again.”

  “Oh, hi … I like coming here to see the work on display.”

  “If there’s anything else, you’ll have to say something, it’ll take more than nervous glances.”

  His face beamed and he looked at the floor. “I’m not great when it comes to pretty girls.”

  “So, are you okay around girls who are not so pretty?”