Helen's Story

Breaking the kiss, Natalie stared at me from six inches away, her lips still parted, showing very white teeth, her eyelids heavy. 'You will come with me?' Again, it sounded like an invitation but I recognised that it was a command. 'Yes,' I hissed, softly and she turned and walked towards the house, not waiting to see if I followed. I had a sense that some heads were turning to look as us as we left the dancefloor, had probably been looking at us as we kissed, but I was beyond caring. Natalia walked fast and I hurried to keep up with her as she went inside the house and up the big curving staircase. At the top she turned right, which I was glad about because my bedroom was on the left. She led me along the corridor and up a narrower staircase, at the top of which was a short passage with three or four doors; I hadn't realised there was another level. She unlocked one and went in and I followed her and she closed the door and locked it behind us.

It was smaller than Marcus's and my bedroom but you wouldn't have called it a single. It had a big double bed and built-in wardrobes and a floor to ceiling window with a fabulous view over the darkened lake through the open curtains. Natalia stood looking out of the window, hand on hip, her head partially turned away from me, and in a flash it came to me. The connection I'd been subconsciously trying to make since Natalia appeared at my side. Jack Vettriano's Bye Bye Baby! My favourite of his works. And the sexiest! I've got a framed print on my bedroom wall and I love the ambiguity of the farewell. Is the "Baby" male or female? The thing is the lady in the picture was a ringer for Natalia, the same exquisite figure, the same raven-black hair and pale complexion, the same air of mystery.

She came to me then, by the side of the bed, and our mouths came together and we kissed deeply and passionately, our lips mashed together, tongues exploring, tasting saliva and lipstick, my hands on her shoulders, her arms around me, her hands on my buttocks, pressing me into her crotch.

She found my zip and pulled it down to the small of my back and then she stepped back and I pulled my dress off my shoulders and over my hips and let it puddle on the floor, stepping clear of it, kicking my shoes off, leaving me in my bra and panties in the gloom of the bedroom, the only light coming from a low-wattage bedside lamp and a vague, diffuse glow from outside.

Natalia peeled her elbow gloves off, slowly, watching me. The she beckoned with a red-tipped finger and I came to her and we kissed and I felt her hands, soft and feminine, stroking my skin, caressing my neck and shoulders, tracing the line of my spine and making me tingle as her hand went lower, approaching my panties, her nails lightly scratching. I trembled and buried my head in her shoulder and she stroked my hair and kissed my neck and ears and then our lips came together again and it was the most intense kissing I'd ever experienced: passionate, intimate, giving, tasting.

Eventually we broke apart, me breathless and aroused beyond measure, Natalia calm and quiet. 'Undress me,' she said, and it was my turn to draw her zip down, to slide the satin material over her smooth skin and slim hips, to expose her lacy bra and matching panties. My turn to take some sort of control as I unclasped her bra and pulled it down her arms, exposing her breasts, the size of oranges, with pert, upturned nipples like little raspberries. I held her arms and bowed my head to her breasts, taking a nipple in my mouth, sucking, suckling, licking the tip, sucking the soft flesh into my mouth as she held my head in her arms and twined her fingers in my hair. Her skin was like velvet and smelled faintly of cloves. Exotic. Erotic. I switched my mouth to her other breast but she pushed me away, gently.

'Take your underwear off and lie on the bed,' she ordered. And I obeyed. Usually, in a female-on-female situation, it was me who was dominant. But tonight I was in thrall to this mesmerising women and I would do as she asked. I unclipped my bra and it joined my dress on the floor. Then my panties, the gusset soaking wet and clinging to my labia. I lay on my back and my lover looked down at me and smiled and said, 'You are also very beautiful naked, Helen, we shall have much pleasure.' She peeled her own panties off and came to lie beside me on the big bed and we kissed and stroked each other. Tender exploration with our tongues and fingers, seeking our intimate places. She squeezed my breasts, massaged the firm flesh, sucked my rosy nipples into her mouth and bit them gently with her little white teeth. I arched my back as the electric sensation flashed through my spine and she bit a little harder and I squealed at the exquisite pain and because her hand had found my vulva and she was stroking my bush and tracing my labia with one finger, sliding it between the puffy lips, seeking and finding the liquid velvet of my slit. She kissed me as she stroked me and then slowly, slowly, she slid her finger all the way into my sopping pussy, looking at my face as her slim finger penetrated me to the knuckle. Slowly, slowly, she withdrew the finger and slid it into her mouth, sucking and licking my cunt juices. Then the finger was back in and then she was holding it out to me and I took it in my mouth and tasted my own familiar secretions on her finger, salty and sweet. A hint of muskiness.

She had beautifully long fingers, with manicured nails, painted a dark red. She let me lick and suck them all before her hand went to my loins again and I felt her penetrate me with two or three fingers. I took them easily, gasping at the sensation, wanting her further inside me, opening my legs wider to accommodate her, to encourage her, wanting her to stretch my cunt. She kissed me as she fucked me with her fingers and I lay back in a mist of pleasure, the whole world forgotten, shrunk to just this bedroom and this exquisite stranger who was turning my insides to liquid and making my heart race.

She let me lick her fingers clean again then she said, 'You would like to taste me now? Taste my cunt?' I felt a tingle at her use of the word. 'Yes,' I whispered. 'Yes please.'

Natalia knelt up and swung a leg over me, straddling my face. Her pussy was as I had imagined, a thick, jet-black bush, the labia pale against the silky hair and slightly parted, a pink wetness inside. She lowered herself onto my face and I buried my mouth in the hair and the flesh and licked between her labia and buried my nose in her slit as I pushed my tongue as far as it would go into her cunt hole, my hands on the firm flesh of her bum cheeks, pulling her into my face, licking up and down almost savagely, wanting to get some reaction from this enigmatic lady. She tasted different to me, not as sweet as my juices and with a darker, meatier, more erotic undertone.

I licked and lapped Natalia's liquid depths for long minutes and she began to respond, rocking slowly back and forth on my face, her breathing becoming loud and raspy. My whole face was covered in a mix of her juices and my saliva. The combined fluids were dripping down my chin and coating her perineum. I was gasping breath into my mouth, licking with long, firm strokes, my nose pushed up against her clitoris. She flexed her hips slightly to bring her clit into contact with my tongue and I took the hint and started flicking my tongue against the tip of her little bud, feeling her shiver as I did so, hearing her moaning softly above me. I licked her clitoris and sucked it into my mouth and she started panting and pushing herself harder into my face and I sensed she was near to a climax. Sucking and licking, I lubricated one forefinger from the sea of liquid and found her little puckered anus. She didn't flinch as I touched her most intimate place, but she started to come and, as her orgasm overwhelmed her, she cried out and her back arched and I slid my finger into her and felt the sphincter grip me and spasm as the waves of pleasure splashed through her.

Natalia slumped sideways as her climax faded and lay next to me, staring at the ceiling. I lay still too, waiting for her to say something. We could hear the disco music faintly through the window, but in the bedroom it was quiet and intimate and the smells of female arousal were heavy in the air. 'You're good,' she said, eventually, turning her head to me. 'It's not often I come like that with another woman.' I smiled, not sure what to say.

After a few minutes Natalia stirred and raised herself on one elbow. 'Now, lovely Helen, I make you come.' She kissed my mouth and slid her tongue between my lips. 'Mmm. My juices taste nice, don't they?'

'Delicious.'

She kissed my neck and cheeks and ran her nails over my breasts, tweaking the nipples between her finger and thumb. She kissed my throat and my breasts and she sucked my nipples, stiff with desire, into her mouth. She kissed my stomach, tongued my navel, working her way down, her hands stroking and exploring. Then she was kneeling between my legs and I was raising my knees to give her better access and she was lowering her head and I felt her mouth on my labia and her tongue inside me and I felt all tingly and hot. Natalia spent long moments exploring my sex with her tongue, pushing the hot, slippery tip into my cunt hole, flicking my clit, sliding a finger into me until I thought I'd swoon with pleasure. Gripping the backs of my knees she bent my legs firmly over my body until my knees were nearly touching my shoulders and I was fully exposed to her and she could lick me all the way from my anus to my clitoris. She started out with slow strokes, just using the tip of her tongue. I trembled and shivered and she increased the length of the strokes and made them stronger, deeper, more urgent. Towards the end she fastened onto my clit and sucked it into her mouth and nipped it gently with her teeth and I trembled as I felt my orgasm well inside me until it was unstoppable and a throbbing wave of intense pleasure flooded through me and my juices flowed out and my lover lapped them up as my climax sent wave after wave of utter pleasure crashing through my cortex.

Too soon the sensations faded and the room came back into focus. Natalia stretched out her lithe body next to me and we lay together for long minutes, saying nothing, while our bodies cooled and the sweat dried in the warm bedroom air and then we got under the duvet and lay together for another hour or more. I had no idea what the time was and couldn't care less. I felt no guilt about Marcus; we were finished anyway. Eventually we slept. At least, I did. I assume Natalia slept like normal people.

When I woke there was the grey light of dawn outside. The curtains were still open and I got up and looked out over the lake, the water looked cold and greasy. In the bed, my lover's black hair was a smudge on the pillow. I dressed quietly and, kneeling over the bed, kissed her on the top of the head, but she didn't stir. I let myself out and went down to our bedroom. The door was unlocked and I slipped in.

I'll draw a veil over the next few hours. Suffice it to say that Marcus was furious with me for abandoning him. And furious with me because I had abandoned him for another women, although I'd always been very clear with him that I was bi-sexual. Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair. I got quite a few odd looks and no one seemed to want to talk to me. There was no sign of Natalia. Nor was there any sign of Tom, although I'm not sure I'd have recognised him, until he opened his mouth that is.

We left quite soon after breakfast and didn't talk the whole way home. Marcus dropped me off at my cottage and drove away and I never saw him again. I never saw Natalia again either, which saddened me. I didn't even know her second name, and I certainly didn't feel able to ask Marcus or his friends to help track her down. I would have liked to know her, to find out who she was and what she wanted from life. To make love with her on a beach, under the stars, and in a big, warm bed while a storm raged outside and rain lashed against the windows.

I sometimes wondered about Tom, too. Wondered how he was getting on with the demanding Fiona. Wondered whether he thought about me at all.

Chapter Two -- Toby and Ash

I mooned about for a few days, thinking about Natalia, but that was just self-defeating. So I called Gemma. She's my closest friend in the world and I can talk to her about anything. We met the following Friday evening, after work, in a wine bar in the centre of town.

'Marcus and I have split up,' I began, as soon as we'd got our first drink and a table at the back of the bar.

'About bloody time,' said Gemma. Then, 'Sorry, Helen, but he was a tosser.' Gemma is like my opposite to look at: she's short and blonde and has large breasts. Personality wise she's a bit like me, not as stubborn, maybe, but definitely outspoken.

We talked about Marcus and his friends and the level in the bottle went down and then I told her about the weekend in the Lake District and about Natalia, and how sad I was that I'd probably never see her again. Gemma's fully aware of my sexuality; once, years and years ago, we got drunk at a party and ended up in bed together. It didn't work, Gemma's strictly hetero, but I did get a good feel of those big tits.

'What you need is a good, stiff seeing to,' said Gemma, after some thought. Actually this was her answer to most of the world's ills.

'Any suggestions?' I asked.

'Oh God, Helen. There's a million blokes out there that would sacrifice ten years of their life to sleep with you! Christ, if I had your body... Go to some parties. Go to a nightclub. Mr Right will be there somewhere. Or Miss Right,' she added with a smirk.

She was right, of course. I needed to get out and meet people. As I said earlier, Marcus and I had increasingly done our own thing at weekends as our relationship disintegrated. But I hadn't gone out clubbing or anything. I'd gone walking, in the Yorkshire Dales or the Forest of Bowland, mostly by myself.

But, as luck would have it, I was invited to a party a week or so later. The invitation was from Kayleigh, the fresh produce manager at the supermarket. She was younger than me, twenty-five or six, I think. I'd helped her out a few years ago, when she was having a tough time at work, and since then she'd sort of latched on to me. She'd drop into my office for a chat or come and sit with me if I was having lunch in the staff canteen. I didn't mind, she's chatty and bubbly and I suppose I've got a bit of a soft spot for her.

The occasion for the party was Kayleigh's engagement to her boyfriend, Sam. I'd heard a great deal about Sam, from Kayleigh, and given what she'd told me I was surprised that she was committing herself to marrying the guy. But she was thrilled as she showed me the engagement ring and she practically begged me to come. I wasn't sure. For one thing I'd probably be the oldest person there, unless Kayleigh had asked her parents. I'm only thirty-five but a ten-year age gap is big when you're in your twenties or thirties. I thought about what Gemma had said about meeting Mr Right. That was going to be pretty unlikely, but she was right, I did need to get out and party a bit. So I accepted and I was glad I had because Kayleigh gave me a huge smile and a big hug and said she couldn't wait to see me on Saturday evening.

Kayleigh and Sam lived in a big Victorian villa in a leafy suburb near the town's College of Further Education. The house, like so many others in the neighbourhood, had been converted into flats and there was a big student population. Their flat was the biggest in the house, all the ground floor. Above that, I found out later, were two more floors, each divided into two one-bedroom flats.

I turned up in a taxi just after eight-thirty. It was early May, and a warm night and I'd dressed accordingly: knee-length black skirt, a tight-fitting turquoise silk shirt with a ruched front and black heels. If I'm socialising I prefer a skirt or a dress to trousers, partly because I like showing off my legs. They're long and slim and shapely and I'm rather proud of them. This evening they were bare; it was too warm for tights or stockings.

I could hear the "thump-thump" of music as I walked across the gravel forecourt. Kayleigh had told me that she'd invited all the neighbours so they couldn't complain about the noise. Just as well, I thought, telling myself that I only need stay a couple of hours.

Inside, the place was dark and hot and throbbing. There were people everywhere. Milling through the two reception rooms, crowding the kitchen where the food and drink was laid out. I found Kayleigh, who was flushed and happy and at least half-drunk, and gave her the bottle of Merlot I'd brought. She introduced me to Sam who shook my hand and looked at my breasts and legs and I wondered whether I'd be helping Kayleigh through another tough patch in a few years' time.

I found myself a glass of white wine and went through the double doors into the garden, where it was cool and quieter. The sun had just set and it was getting dark, the stars appearing in the heavens above. I stood on the patio and sipped my wine and looked up at Orion and let my mind go pleasantly blank.

'It's my favourite constellation,' said a voice at my side. 'Orion, the hunter.'

I looked around at the young man who'd spoken. He was a bit shorter than me, but as I was nearly six feet in my heels that wasn't unusual. In the increasing gloom his hair and complexion looked dark, but his teeth were very white as he smiled and held out his hand. 'Ash,' he said.'

'Helen,' I replied, taking his hand. His grip was warm and firm.

'How do you know Kayleigh?' he asked.

'I work at the supermarket,' I replied.

'Really? You don't quite fit the image.'

'What do you do?' I asked, deflecting further questions about me.

'I'm a graphic designer, He pointed up at the constellation, hanging bright in the sky. 'That's Rigel, the bright-white one at the bottom right. And the red one, top left, is Betelgeuse.' He talked a bit about his work and what he did in his leisure time and I enjoyed his company and I asked him how he knew Kayleigh. 'She's my neighbour. I live in one of the top flats, with Toby, my partner,' he added.

'I need a refill,' I said a bit later and we both went into the kitchen where he found half a bottle of Chardonnay in a bucket of tepid water. In the light of the kitchen I could see that he was a good-looking lad, with the black hair and dark complexion that suggested Asian origin. He was wearing a polo shirt and jeans and I saw that he had a flat stomach and strong-looking arms. I noticed him looking at me, too and I suddenly felt overdressed for this twenty-somethings party.

Kayleigh suddenly appeared from the left field, now more like three-quarters drunk, and dragged me away to show off to some of her friends. They were a friendly bunch, some were even about my age, and we chatted and drank and drank and chatted and I switched from white wine to red, which is usually a mistake, and I felt myself relax and a warm, alcoholic euphoria creep over me, a sense of calm and well-being. Glancing at my watch I saw that it was twenty-five past twelve. How did that happen? The house was less full now, Kayleigh herself had been taken to bed, pissed, about an hour ago and others had left, although plenty still remained. The music was better, too. Less thump-thump and more melodic. They were even playing stuff I recognised, like Fleetwood Mac. I decided I'd stay for another hour and I went and refilled my glass then wandered into the front room.

I hadn't been in there before. It was quite big, with a couple of settees and easy chairs and a big flat-screen TV in the corner. More than that it was difficult to see in the near darkness. A couple of candles in jars was the extent of the illumination so I trod carefully, not wishing to trip over an unexpected prone figure.