Erin was thirty-five, and so was I. We’d lived in the same dormitory in college; her room was a few doors down from mine. She was the “hippie chick” ... long frizzy hair the color of honey, always smelling faintly of incense and pot, with a free and easy attitude toward the things that most of my other dorm-mates took far too seriously -- things like studies, dating, sex, and careers.
In a way, that was what we’d had in common. Both of us were outcasts in that scene. For my part, I’d come from a strict religious background and felt squeamish about anything that was related to sex or dating. Not that I had much of that going for me, anyway. I was taller than the rest, with what my parents called “strong features” that detracted from any image of femininity that I was trying to project. To make things worse, I didn’t have much of a bust back then, and my waist was thicker than men expected it to be. The rest of the girls pretty much ignored me, except when they needed a little help with their studies. Until Erin moved into the dorm in our sophomore year, I contented myself with long walks in the woods near the campus.
But Erin was different. She always seemed glad to see me, and we had many long talks about everything under the sun, from our tastes in food to our philosophy and politics. While her beliefs and opinions were quite foreign to my upbringing, she never judged. We seldom agreed on matters of religion, but I sensed that in spite of her agnosticism, she was a deeply spiritual woman.
And she was more comfortable in her body than anybody I had ever met. She often went nude from her room to the showers or the bathroom, never bothering to even put on a robe as the rest of us girls did. She had nothing to be ashamed of, though. Her breasts were high and firm, with pink nipples that always seemed erect. She never wore a bra; in fact, I don’t think she even owned one. She had a slim waist, wide hips, and a firm ass. And she never shaved her armpit hair, unlike the rest of us. I don’t know if she shaved her legs then, but they never seemed hairy, although her crotch hair was profuse. It was rumored that she’d had plenty of experience with men, although she never talked to us about her sex life.
But her most attractive assets were her legs, because she loved to hike, too. And that was the thing that really connected us. We became companions then, always taking long walks into the countryside or over to the next town. When we walked, we seldom talked, preferring to enjoy the silence of the woods or the roadsides. Her stamina was phenomenal. It was a challenge for me to keep up with her at first, but eventually I could match her stride for stride. My own legs grew stronger and shapelier over the years, although I seldom felt comfortable enough to show them off in shorts.
Well, we graduated and went our separate ways. But when I joined Facebook thirteen years later, I found a friend request from her, and we re-connected. It turned out that she’d gotten married but divorced soon afterwards; she didn’t say why. There were no children. I myself had remained single. I’d had one romantic experience in the interval, but it hadn’t gone well; Darren had tried to push it past my comfort zone, and when we finally fucked, I found it painful and asked him to stop. Instead, he rammed it in all the way and ejaculated into me, and I had an anxious couple of weeks wondering if he’d impregnated me. The pain of intercourse, the fear of pregnancy, and the lack of respect he’d shown me all contributed to a reluctance to seek further romantic companionship. I wasn’t a virgin anymore, but I may as well have been one.
Erin was now living in a cabin on the outskirts of rural town about a three-hour drive from me, and she invited me over one Saturday. When I got there, she gave me a big hug, and then a light lunch. We chatted freely, catching up on our lives. Within minutes, it was as though we’d never parted. She was as gay and sunny as she’d always been, and I found a little of my own college personality seeping back.
Then she proposed that we go for a hike, like in the old days. There was a pond, she said, quite a ways up the mountain that overlooked her property. It was a two-hour hike to get there, but she had never seen anybody else there; we’d have the place to ourselves. She took a small back-pack with her, and made sure we had plenty of water.
And, after a challenging hike up the mountain, there we were. The pond was just as she described it, large enough to swim in, and shaded by tall trees except for a sunny meadow at the near end from the trail.
“Hey, wanna go for a swim?” she said. But she was already taking off her shorts and blouse. She was braless, of course, as she’d always been.
“I didn’t bring a suit,” I protested.
“You don’t need one here. C’mon. I brought towels.” By this time, she was pulling her hiking shoes off her feet.
“Won’t anybody see?” I said.
“Naw. Nobody comes here! It’s just us!” With that, she shucked her socks and panties and headed for the sandy beach at the lake’s edge, totally nude.
Well, the nudity was obviously familiar territory for her, but not for me. I stood there for a second, but the challenge in her voice provoked me to action. Was I such a fuddy-duddy after all these years? So I stripped, too.
It was the first time I’d ever been naked outdoors. To my surprise, I enjoyed the feel of the sun and the breezes on my skin, and the grass and sand under my bare feet. Erin, already knee deep in the water, grinned as she saw me walk toward her. She lifted her arms and extended them to me. Her armpits were tufted with fine hair, the same color as the profuse hair on her crotch. She looked like a creature of nature itself, an earth goddess, in her element as she stood there, her nude body glowing in the sunlight.
Her looks had hardly changed at all in fifteen years. Her hair was now shorter, and maybe her boobs hung a little lower and her waist was a tad thicker, but there was nothing different about her utter comfort with being naked. Her smile was as confident and inviting as ever. Within minutes, I was as comfortable with my nudity as she was, and reveled in how the cool water felt as I immersed myself. I’d always trusted my bathing suit to help absorb the shock of the cold water on my vulva and ass and breasts, but now there was no buffer, and the effect was bracing.
We splashed each other like children, we swam, and we chatted. Then we left the water, and Erin reached into her back-pack and produced some more bottled water, two large towels, and a bottle of sun-tan oil. “Dry off,” she said, “and then we’ll get some rays.”
We spread out the towels on the grass. “Do me a favor and do my back,” she said as she held out the oil bottle. “I’ll do yours.”
I was a bit startled at the suggestion; it was the first time I’d touched somebody so intimately since I broke up with Darren. But it seemed innocent enough, so I complied and spread the oil onto her perfectly tanned back. Then she did the same for me, and I felt her hands massage my back as she rubbed the oil into the skin. She left it to me to apply the oil to the rest of my body, so I took it to mean that she wasn’t trying to seduce me.
We lay on the towels and I watched each other oil ourselves up. But instead of giving her boobs and cunt a perfunctory oiling, as I did, she took her time with them. I watched, spellbound, as she lay on her back, her finger sliding along her cleft. There was no doubt about it. She was masturbating, right in front of me! And she was looking at me.
“You can do it, too,” she whispered.
“No,” I replied.
“Do you mind if I do it?”
“No. Go ahead.”
She smiled and resumed her play. It wasn’t long before her fingers were in her cunt, plunging in and out, her thumb pressing on her clit. Then her ass lifted off the towel and she was supporting her weight with her feet and shoulders. I heard her breaths turn into gasps, each one deeper than the last. And right after that, she climaxed with a squeak and a shiver, and her body slumped back onto the towel.
She rolled over on to her side and regarded me with a dreamy smile. “Thanks for letting me do that! I always do it when I come up here. The oil, the sun, the water, the smell of the grass ... they seduce me.”
I smiled back. “Thanks for letting me watch. I remember how unself-conscious you always were back in the day. You haven’t changed a bit!”
“Oh, yes, I have! Now I’m hornier! I feel that I’m coming into my full potential now as a woman, in a way that I wasn’t when I was twenty. But can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Why didn’t you join me?”
That stopped me cold, and I took a while to answer. I thought about Darren, I thought about the pain. And it occurred to me that I had never given myself permission to climax after that episode. I didn’t want to kick that hornet’s nest of emotion and conflict. Every time I played with myself and found the erotic sensations growing, some sort of “safety valve” kicked in and killed them.
And that’s what I told Erin. It took me a while to get it all out, during which time she listened to every word. When I was finished, there were tears in my eyes, and in hers, too.
“Poor dear,” she said. “So you haven’t had an orgasm since then?”
“Erin, I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm. At least, not one like you just had!”
“Well, Connie, I think we have to do something about that!”
“Are you hitting on me, Erin? I’m not a Lesbian!”
“I’m not, either. If you had to put a label on it, I guess you could say that I’m bi. But I don’t think you know what you are. Let me ask you: why did you sleep with that guy? Did he turn you on? Or was it social pressure, the feeling that you had to lose your cherry to see what it felt like?”
“Oh, he turned me on, all right, right up until the time his cock went into me.”
“So you let one asshole poison the well for you?”
“I guess so.”
“Connie, all men aren’t like that! There are guys who are sweet and considerate! But listen: you don’t need guys. First, you need to find that ‘safety valve’ and turn it off.”
“I don’t know how, Erin.”
“Maybe I do. Will you let me try?”
Well, what did I have to lose? And she seemed sincere about wanting to help me.
“Okay. What do I have to do?”
“Just lie there, and feel the sun and the breeze on you. And close your eyes and relax!”
So that’s what I did. And then I felt a drop of oil fall on my right nipple, followed by a finger.
“I’m going to give you a little stimulation,” I heard her say. “Tell me how it feels.”
Her finger flicked back and forth on my nipple, which started to respond by getting harder. I picked up the bottle of oil, put a drop on my left nipple, and gave it the same treatment that Erin was giving the right one.
“I like that,” I said. “Sometimes I do that to myself when I go to bed.”
“So far, so good,” she said. “Let’s just keep doing this for a while. Keep your eyes closed so you can concentrate on the sensation, and feel yourself getting aroused.”
We played like that for a few minutes, and when she stopped flicking my nipple, I took over, playing with my breasts, oiling them, massaging them, and feeling the nipples against the flats of my hands. It felt good. And then I felt a few drops of oil fall on my vulva, followed by Erin’s fingers tracing the folds of my cunt lips. I tensed.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Um, nothing. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I think it was that ‘safety valve’ kicking in, Connie. Just relax, appreciate how good it feels, let it happen.”
“Nobody’s ever touched me there that way,” I said.
“Not even your ex?”
“Then he really was an asshole. You deserved better, Connie! So let me just do this...”
And she spent the next few minutes getting to know my pussy. Her fingers traced the length of my slit, parting the inner and outer labia, lightly touching my clit under its hood, and pressing against my mons. As she worked, she hummed a tune I remembered from childhood: “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” It reminded me of when I was younger, so eager to explore the world around me, never missing an opportunity to enlarge myself. Where did that go? How did I lose it?
But then I realized that I didn’t lose it. I had just stopped seeing it. It was still there, right behind me, and all I had to do was turn around. It just popped up and said, “Here I am!” And I felt at peace now with what was happening to me. I spread my legs farther apart.
Erin must have sensed the change, because she challenged me again. She slid a finger inside me, just an inch or so. It startled me, but I didn’t tense this time. It was as if I’d caught a ball and thrown it back, all in one easy motion. I really was in the moment again. Throw me another! And she did, right away. Two fingers. Easy! Three? Not yet. Let’s just keep doing this, dear.
Each time she added a finger and went in a little deeper, I’d felt just a trace of that tension I’d first experienced, but each time it went away more quickly. So that was the “safety valve” that I was telling Erin about, I realized. That’s the demon who will run away when I stare him in the face.
“Are you okay?” Erin asked.
“I’m fine. Just keep doing that.” I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of her fingers in my vagina, teasing me and stretching me.
“Tell me when you want me to add one more thing.”
“You can add it now.” (Throw it to me! I can catch it!) And I felt her tongue on my clit. Without pausing with her finger-fucking, her tongue danced up and down the length of my slit. There was a final, faint spasm of panic, followed by the onset of an orgasm.
The orgasm won.
It wasn’t a thunderclap, but it was definitely a climax. And it confirmed a suspicion I’d had; that I had never had a real orgasm before. I felt the sweetness flow through me, sapping my strength. I realized that I hadn’t thought to breathe as I climaxed, and did a deep exhale and inhale. When I opened my eyes, there were Erin’s lips, hovering over my breasts. She kissed each nipple tenderly.
“Thank you,” I said. My voice was trembling.
“My pleasure, dear! You were always such a good friend to me, and I always wanted to repay you.”
“I don’t think my ... my orgasm ... was as strong as yours.”
“It just takes practice, honey,” she said as she licked my pussy juice off her fingers. “The more you do it, the better you’ll get. Hey, what happened to the ‘safety valve’?”
“I said, ‘Boo!’ and it ran away!”
She kissed me on the mouth. “Way to go, girl! I always knew you could!”
“You know,” I added, “I hope you’re not disappointed, but I’m not sure I’m a Lesbian. I mean, I love you ... I think I can love you ... as a friend, but not as a lover.”
“Don’t worry about that! What I did for you was just what I would do to any friend who needed it. No strings attached.”
“You get that intimate with just friends?”
“Sure I do! That’s what caused my marriage to go south. My husband and I played around a lot before we were married, taking sex wherever we found it, but after the honeymoon, he wanted me to stop it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if I saw a man or a woman I wanted to fuck, or who needed fucking, I would fuck them. Now he wanted me all for himself. He said I would bring home diseases. ‘Well, why didn’t you care before?’ I said. ‘Because you weren’t my wife then.’
“So we went into counseling, and it was plain that I wouldn’t change, and he wouldn’t change. So we broke up. We’re still friends, after a fashion, like sending Christmas cards and stuff.”
“That’s good,” I said. “When I broke up with Darren, I just asked him to get the hell out of my life. Maybe I was wrong about that. I shouldn’t have.”
“Well, you learn these things,” she said. “One good thing I got out of counseling was that it could do a lot of good. I had a degree in psychology, remember, so I went back and took some more courses and got a counselor’s license. That’s my job now ... sex therapist!”
“Do you fuck all your clients?” I said with a smile.
She laughed. “No. Only the ones who need it. And my friends, of course!”
“And which one am I?”
“You’re both, right now. And we haven’t really fucked yet. Do you want to?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m crossing bridges now, you see.”
“Take your time! We’d better start heading down, anyway. Say, do you want to stay the night? It would be really late by the time you got home.”
“You really are trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”
“Seduction is such a dirty word! Let’s put it this way. I’m the host. You’re the guest. If you want to sleep on the couch, or on the floor, or in the tool shed, or in my bed with me, that’s all right with me! We’ll discuss the sleeping arrangements after dinner. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said, and we took a last swim, dried ourselves off, dressed, and headed back down. Then she cooked some dinner and we watched the sunset through the cabin window. Then she lit the fire in the fireplace.
It would have been a perfectly respectable tableau, except for the fact that we were both naked. True to form, she’s shucked her clothes the moment we walked into the door, and invited me to do the same. Well, when in Rome ... and the house would have been uncomfortably warm had I stayed clothed, I told myself without really believing it. I was rebelling against my respectability, I know now; I was taking a second chance at the free-wheeling life that Erin enjoyed in the dorm. I was not going to miss that bus again!
And there was something else, too. Erin obviously appreciated the sight of my breasts as they swung bra-less and free. It had never really occurred to me that I might be considered beautiful to others, least of all to another woman. Or maybe it was something else she enjoyed seeing: a woman starting to experience her nude body in a new way, and to be willing to forsake shame for comfort.
So there we were, naked as jaybirds, sitting on a big sheepskin rug in front of the fire, drinking wine and telling our life stories again. Erin produced a joint and lit it, inhaling deeply. She passed it to me, and I took a toke, more to be friendly than anything else. Maybe that explained what happened next.
“I want to thank you again for what you did up there at the pond,” I said. “I have no words.”
“You don’t need words, dear. Words are not good for occasions like this.”
“This,” she said, and she gave my cheek a kiss and my left breast a squeeze. I put my arms around her, and hugged her. We stayed that way for a long minute, as my panic crept in again, and then fled when I remembered that it had no power now. I kissed back. She lay on her back, and I mounted her. We were cunt to cunt, tit to tit, face to face, with our legs braiding together. She stroked my back and started humming “Twinkle Twinkle” again. I giggled, and she did, too.
“Can I try to give you another orgasm?” she said softly.
“I’d love that.”
“Then lie on your back and spread your legs. You play with your girls, and I’ll do the rest.” And she kissed me on my cunt, at first lightly and playfully, and then with a little tongue.
Erin was right. It came easier the second time. Maybe it was the wine and the pot helping me get into the mood, but I was wet before I knew it. She had scarcely begun eating me out when I felt the first surges. She sensed it, and increased the tempo.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right back. Just keep playing with yourself. Let your body tell you what it wants.” With that, she got up and disappeared into the bedroom. I kept kneading my breasts, and my finger drifted down to my slit. Yes, I had done this before, years ago, before Darren ruined everything. It felt good then. It was beginning to feel good again. I felt the warmth of the fire on my pussy, now being matched by a warmth that was coming from inside me.
That’s when Erin returned. She had a dildo and a wand-type vibrator in her hands. To my surprise, she didn’t use them on me, but on herself. She slipped the dildo into her vagina and applied the vibrator to her clit. I watched her slip into an orgasm as easily as an otter slips into the water.
“I want to help,” I said at last.
“Suck on my nips,” she said without opening her eyes. I took one into my mouth. It was stiff. I began sucking on it, and she gasped as another orgasm swept over her. With my mouth still locked onto that nipple, I repositioned my body until my own breasts were over her face, and I felt her mouth on my right nipple, sucking fiercely, flicking its tip with her tongue.
And then I felt the vibrator on the top of my clitoral hood. She traced the tip of it up and down my slot, parting the folds, teasing the clit out of its cover. I began to tremble.