by Tom Benson
As she sensed her lover’s body tremble, she eased off, and on the third occasion, Lauren slipped a finger inside Heather’s soaking pussy. The finger came out wet and slippery, ready to be pressed against Heather’s tight bum-hole. When pressure was applied, and the older woman cried out in ecstasy, Lauren slipped her finger inside up to the first knuckle, simultaneously sucking on the clit.
“Oh yess … I’m coming … Lauren … deeper … deeper—”
Lauren sucked gently on Heather’s sensitive bud and probed with her finger in her rosebud, drawing it out slowly before probing again. She worked her finger rapidly and continued sucking when she felt her lover cry out.
Heather’s body shook, and her legs trembled as she submitted to her pleasure. “Oh, Lauren—”
Lauren allowed Heather a few seconds to calm down before she attended to her again, but this time pressing her lips firmly against Heather’s pussy to suck at the love juices she’d produced. When she’d achieved her aim, Lauren crawled up beside her lover and kissed her on the lips.
“Please, squat … on my … face, Heather … I must be … forced to … eat you.”
Heather quickly got onto her hands and knees and then squatted over Lauren’s lovely face, playing the dominant role as expected. “Open your … sweet mouth … Lauren.” When the sensuous lips parted, Heather moved her knees further out and lowered herself onto her lover’s lips.
It only took a few minutes before Heather was rubbing herself firmly down onto that luscious mouth and crying out for Lauren’s tongue to go deeper.
After her third orgasm, Heather smiled down at Lauren and told her to lie still and accept what was due to her. Heather started by kissing her lover softly on the lips, and then worked over ears, neck, shoulders, arms, breasts, and then on down to the belly and beyond. By the time Heather reached Lauren’s pussy, the girl was thrashing around on the bed pleading to have an orgasm.
While Heather performed, she teased Lauren to perfection, knowing full well it was what she had done. It was fun returning the favour, knowing she could take Lauren right to the brink.
“Please … Heather … please … let me … come … ohh, please.”
Heather left Lauren’s pussy for a few seconds to suck on her inner thighs, and then returned to her pussy. By then Lauren was beyond control and Heather controlled her with the tip of her tongue.
Lauren’s orgasm was followed rapidly by another, and then the two women rested a while.
When they recommenced, they adopted a sixty-nine and a few other positions, wearing each other down with the pleasure received. They continued off and on for two hours before stopping.
Heather got up on one arm. “I can lend you a nightie if you’d like to sit and enjoy a glass of wine.” She leant forward and softly kissed Lauren on the lips. “We can come back to bed and have an early night if you like.”
“All of the above.” Lauren laughed.
“Tomorrow morning we’ll assess where we have the paintings, and then have a chat about what we want to do … for a while at least.”
* * *
When morning came, the two women agreed that they should protect themselves by not becoming too dependent on each other. As they discussed the whole concept of physical pleasure without the emotional attachment, it became clear that they thought similarly.
“It sounds mercenary,” Heather said, “but if we can agree on being together purely for pleasure, we’ll still have our friendship.”
“If I’ve learned nothing else in life regarding relationships, it is simply that we can genuinely pledge to stay together, but it leads to a stressful situation along the line. Even if we ended our physical relationship, I think I’d want us to be friends.”
The pair were sitting on Heather’s sofa, holding hands, but working hard not to fall for each other too heavily.
Over the next days when they got together, they both opened up about the relationships they’d been involved in and how they’d been affected.
It felt wrong to lie about how she’d been abandoned by Tina, but Heather camouflaged the breakup by saying that she’d lost Tina to cancer. There was no need to complicate things by explaining that it had been Tina’s previous partner that had cancer and caused such an upset in Heather’s life.
Both Heather and Lauren were at ease with each other, and things might have continued smoothly, but strangely, the death of Heather’s father created an unforeseen set of circumstances.
* * *
.
Thursday 8th September, 2004
“Hi, Lauren.” Heather looked worn out when she opened the door to let Lauren in.
“Oh, Heather, you need to rest.”
The friends embraced each other without speaking further until Lauren took the lead.
“I think you should sit down, and I’ll make the coffee—go on, I’ll be right back.”
Heather was in her own apartment, but she seemed miles away when her friend entered the lounge and handed her a strong coffee.
Lauren sat beside Heather on the sofa. “You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to, and I realise you know more about the grieving process than I do.”
Heather sipped her hot drink. “I’ve been missing for three weeks, Lauren. I can hardly just say I went to Scotland.” She paused and reached out to take Lauren’s hand. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that my friend.”
“Hey, take your time, and tell me whatever will help you. I want to be here for you, and I know you’d be there for me.”
“You’ll remember I told you about both of my parents having been doctors, which had a direct effect on what I wanted to study. When I called you at the beginning of August to say I was going to Scotland, it was because my dad was seriously ill in hospital.”
“Yes, you said he’d had a heart attack, but your mum had been there and saved his life while waiting for the ambulance.”
“I got up there and he’d only been in the hospital two days—he spoke to me once and died that night. There was nothing they could do for him because of his age. He’d helped so many people over the years, and he died in a hospital.”
“What I don’t understand is what happened with your mum, so soon afterwards.”
“I told her I’d stay and get all the paperwork and suchlike straightened out, which I did. From the day my dad died, my mum wasn’t the same person. They’d both been retired for about five years, and they were happy in the house they’d bought.”
Lauren had so many questions she wanted to ask but realised her friend was talking and that was good enough.
Heather sipped her coffee. “I stayed up there to be with my mum at my dad’s funeral, and my mum died in her sleep that night.” Heather stared at her coffee for a few seconds. “And so it was that I stayed up there for a few more days to bury my mother.”
“That is tragic, Heather. I’m so sorry. Is there anything outstanding with which I can help?”
“No, but thank you, Lauren. I stayed up there longer because I was the only beneficiary in my parents’ joint will. I thought I’d be expected to deal with the sale of the family house, but there was something much bigger in store.”
Again, Lauren was pleased to see Heather continuing her tale. It would help her to talk about it—all of it.
“The family solicitor told me that there had been a big manor house which was once a countryside surgery. This place was old and solid, but under threat of demolition because nobody wanted it, you know, out in the middle of nowhere in the Scottish Highlands.”
Lauren waited while Heather slipped a sheet of paper from a large envelope.
“This is it—a one-hundred-year-old country house. My dad realised it was going for a song, so he bought it and left it to me as an investment.”
“I don’t know about the inside, but the outside looks quite impressive—regal almost. What will you do with a place like that?”
“Do you remember I said I’d dreamed of having my own clinic?”
“Yes, could you take out a loan to deal with the interior?”
“I’ve been to see it, and I wouldn’t need a loan. I’ve put my parents’ house up for sale, and I’ll use the money to renovate the old surgery. I wanted you to come around here so I could tell you my plans face to face. I’m packing up and heading back to Scotland.”
“When will you go?”
“I’ve got two days to take what I want from this place, and I’ve already told the clinic I won’t be back to work. At least they were understanding and said they’d forward references.”
“I take it you don’t want a hand around here?”
“No, but thank you, Lauren—I had a feeling you’d offer. If you don’t mind, I’d like us to have lunch here today, and then you get back to your life. I’ll find it harder to do what has to be done if you’re here … and I know what we said, but trust me, it will make it easier for me.”
“I’ll stay for lunch, and I know we said no promises, but do you promise to let me know how you’re doing when you get back up there?”
“Yes—I promise.”
The pair embraced, both with their own train of thoughts, and both wondering if that promise would be kept.
Special Friends
Monday 10th January, 2005
Lauren received a letter from Heather in Scotland. Only two weeks earlier, in a Christmas card, Heather had said she’d send a summary of how things were going, but it might take another few days.
As Lauren opened the letter, she realised how much she’d missed her friend. When their brief relationship had started, they had both been quick enough to agree on no emotional ties and no promises, but it was one of those ‘easier said than done’ things. Lauren unfolded the letter.
‘Lauren, my dearest friend.
I hope all is well with you and you’re making a fortune from your beautiful paintings.
As agreed I haven’t phoned, although I’ve been tempted a few times. I apologise for the delay in writing too, but as you’ll see, I’ve been busy.
I landed a job with a clinic in Edinburgh, so I’ve only visited my inherited old surgery a couple of times. My new job will pay for me to live in my rented flat in Edinburgh, and leave money for other things. The sale of my parents’ house went well, so I now have a massive cash resource to enable the refurbishment of the old surgery (my new clinic).
I have a few more official enquiries to make, and then I’ll make a detailed plan of what I’d like to do. I’ve been in touch with an architect, and he says he can recommend tradesmen to carry out the renovation and interior decorating. Basically, the place looks great from the outside, but the inside is a total mess.
I hope to get down to London on a quick visit in a few months, but on that occasion, I will most likely call so that we can discuss when is best. I will write again when I’ve made progress.
Give my regards to Gordon.
Lots of … pleasant and naughty thoughts,
Heather xx’
Lauren was happy for her friend and smiled at the sign-off. She put the letter away to read again later. She was also happy that they’d agreed on not phoning each other—a painfully slow way to continue any type of relationship. No, things were fine, just as they were.
When Lauren thought of phone calls, she then thought of the calls she made to her mother every few months. Her mother was still falling for younger men, and no doubt giving each one of them a good time while they stayed around. Her looks wouldn’t last forever and then she’d regret her decision to cast off her daughter to enjoy her own life of debauchery.
* * *
.
Tuesday 31st May, 2005
The days became weeks and the weeks became months. Lauren and Kathryn were working hard and making Gordon’s Gallery a go-to place for art lovers. Due to the girls painting such different subjects, there was a more extensive range of clientele. It was a win-win situation for Gordon because the paintings he acquired for the gallery were being seen by more people, and business was thriving thanks to the two young artists.
The telephone rang while Lauren was with a customer.
“Gordon’s Gallery, how can we help you?” Kathryn said cheerfully. “Oh, hello, Heather … she’s with a customer, but she’ll be with you in two minutes—I’ll take over for her.”
Lauren had overheard the brief conversation, and her heart skipped a beat. She was pleased when her colleague appeared by her side, apologising profusely, but the call was important and was overdue. Kathryn had the customer eating out of the palm of her hand by the time Lauren reached the phone.
“Hi, Heather—how are you?” Lauren listened intently, nodding, for what good it would do. “If it’s only for a couple of days, don’t book into a hotel—I’d be happy to have you stay at my place … if you didn’t mind sharing a bed.” The laughter from the other end was reassuring. “Saturday 25th June and Sunday 26th June—you have been accepted to share my bed. See you then.”
Lauren pulled out the diary and annotated the dates. Kathryn would be available because she had no study days over a weekend.
* * *
.
Saturday 25th June, 2005
Lauren was upstairs in her flat. She’d created space for her visitor to unpack a few things if she wished, and lunch would be at a local restaurant. There was a light tap at the door.
“May I come in?—Kathryn told me to come straight up.”
“Heather, it’s great to see you.”
Heather dropped her small case, and the two friends embraced, holding each other tightly, but both aware there was meant to be no emotion, other than friendship. That aside, they both shed a few tears, but laughed it off and told each other not to be so soppy.
“We’ll have a coffee,” Lauren said. “I thought we could get out for a while, go for a walk and have lunch in the city.”
“That sounds like a good plan, and I’m looking forward to a decent coffee.”
Twenty minutes later, the pair said a brief ‘Bye’ to Kathryn and were gone.
Heather said, “I know my life has been pretty full-on since I went up north, but have you seriously not seen anybody since I left?”
“My only lover has been that big pink vibrating phallus you bought for me. She laughed. “No people have touched me.”
“Well, the last person I had sex with is the one I’m talking to, so I suppose you know what that means—”
“Surely you don’t expect to share my bed and be allowed to play with my body?”
“I do, and furthermore, I expect you to play with mine.”
Although done in a joking way, the two women were making it clear that they were both available; and clean. For a while, Heather asked questions about the gallery and how young Kathryn was getting on.
“It’s a pity she’s straight,” Heather said. “I think she’s quite pretty.”
“She is pretty. Now, tell me how much progress you’ve made with your new clinic.”
“It’s been a long haul, and there’s so much more to do, but at the moment I have a solid building, with empty rooms inside. All of the interior is being rebuilt, but before that can be done the wiring and plumbing is being renewed which is set to take months. I’ve hired a small team of contractors, and I have specific things I’d like them to do. It will be a few more months before the place is considered habitable.”
“Do you intend to live there and use it as a working clinic?”
“I don’t want to say too much, just in case things don’t work out, but I have an extraordinary idea in mind. The architect believes I will have enough rooms to carry out my aims, but at the moment I’m working with his computer-generated plan of the building.”
“Well, that must help.”
“Yes, it’s easy for him to explain rooms and suchlike, and it’s easier for me to imagine. The good news is that by August the building will be safe enough for me to walk around inside and then I’ll know if I’ve got a viable idea.”
“I have every
confidence in you. There was one thing I wanted to ask—how is the book coming along?”
“All good as far as the book is concerned, and it’s with a publisher as we speak. It might not be a best-seller, but Sexuality and Perceived Disorders is going to be a reality in a couple of months.”
“I’m so looking forward to reading that book.” Lauren paused beside a large glass door. “Our venue for lunch,” Lauren indicated the presentable restaurant.
“This is a nice place—I must help with the bill—”
“No, and no arguments—this weekend is on me.” Lauren laughed.
* * *
The day passed quickly, and after dinner, the two friends were relaxing on the sofa in Lauren’s studio apartment. They had music playing in the background, and as they chatted, it was both relaxing and exciting for them to be back together.
Lauren said, “Did you enjoy our day in the hustle and bustle of Central London?”
“You’d be amazed how strangely therapeutic a day like that can be. It helps me appreciate where I am in Scotland, and if my plans work out, it will be even better.”
“Have you felt the stress levels disappear since you’ve lived there?”
“It’s hard to describe, Lauren. Edinburgh, even on a busy Saturday afternoon is like a holiday compared to working and living in London. You have to experience it to feel the difference.”
“Perhaps sometime, I will.” She sipped from her glass of wine. “I do appreciate you coming here to see me, even though we’re not tied together. You’ve made it special by being in my flat—I know you could easily have chosen to go to a hotel.”
“Yes, but not many hotels supply a warm and beautiful body to cuddle up to in bed.”
