The Piano Teacher
Caution: This Lesbian Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Lesbian,
Desc: Lesbian Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A piano teacher indulges her lust for other women.
My name is Jennifer Pierce, though I prefer Jenny or Jen, I'm thirty-three years old and I'm gay. Having confessed that I like girls, I have to qualify that by saying that on occasion, I don't mind a bit of cock, but on the whole (no pun intended) I prefer the soft, fragrant curves of a woman. I have to be in the right mood to let a hairy, sweaty man drill for oil between my legs, and that's not very often.
I like to think that although I'm not particularly girlie, I'm not the stereotypical butch either, I'm somewhere in between. Looks-wise, I'm about five foot four and ever so slightly overweight. I have short, bleached blonde hair and green eyes. My features are quite regular and with a bit of make-up, I think I can call myself pretty. My bum's not too big, quite nice in fact, luckily, but I do have a bit of a muffin top over my trouser belt. But having biggish boobs is some sort of compensation, I'm happy to say that the label in my bra says 38D.
As to the type of woman I go for, I have to say that I have rather eclectic tastes. That's just another way of saying that I'm not really fussy, after all, pussy is pussy.
The oldest woman I have shagged was in her fifties, and the youngest was just sixteen, so just about legal.
The older woman was a friend of my mother; she was a regular visitor to our house, she and my mother were involved in charity work at our local church.
I was only just turned seventeen at the time and hadn't had sex with another woman although by then I knew that I was aroused by other girls at school and Sixth Form College.
I had masturbated enough times over girls and teachers I had crushes on, to realise where my sexual tastes lay.
But this older woman took my cherry as it were, and introduced me to the heady delights of lesbian sex. Her name was Mrs Margaret Wilmott, and they say you never forget your first, well, I'll certainly never forget Maggie.
Right from my early teens, I was always lookin up women's skirts trying to get a look at their knickers, and hoping that they weren't wearing any. One day, as Maggie chatted to my mother over a cup of tea in the kitchen, she caught me having a crafty peek. I looked away embarrassed, I was sure that she was going to say something. But she didn't say a word; she just smiled at me. The next time I dared to look, her legs were parted and I could see her stocking tops. I don't know why, but the sight of the dark nylon band circling her white thighs instantly excited me.
My mother was completely unaware of the show that Maggie was putting on, being as she was, on the other side of the table. As I continued to stare up Maggie's dress, she opened her legs even further and displayed her white knickers for me. This was the best view I had ever had and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the pure white gusset covering her pussy. I stared and stared at the thin cotton triangle covering her snatch; there were strands of darkish hair poking out the sides and a definite cleft where her slit was.
I was so entranced by the incredible view I had, unimpeded, straight up Maggie's skirt, that it took me a while to realise that I had a tingle between my legs. It was gentle at first, but soon became an irresistible itch.
I was sitting at the table, the same side as Maggie but across from my mother. So I re-positioned myself and slid forwards on my chair so that the table leg was pressing against the crotch of my jeans.
As Maggie continued to flash her knickers at me, I gently rubbed my aching snatch against the table leg. Maggie could see what I was doing and favoured me with a broad knowing smile. Then she dropped her hand on to her thigh and under the cover of the table, hiked her dress up and pulled her gusset to one side to expose her cunt.
I thought that I was going to fall off my chair, and the table rocked so violently that my mother told me to sit still. Sitting still was impossible, the sight of Maggie's pussy on show, up her skirt, sent shivers all the way through my body
The table rocked again and mother asked me what was wrong with me.
I couldn't say that I was humping myself off, whilst looking at her friend's cunt, so I had to change method and use my hand instead, squeezing my tingling pussy through my jeans.
I came quickly, and I had to cover my groans of orgasm by pretending that I had a coughing fit. I quickly got up, went to the sink and got myself a glass of water, feeling the surge of pleasure slowly ebbing away in my crotch.
As I stood at the sink, sipping the water, I heard the sound of a chair scrape on the floor, and seconds later, Maggie's voice, "My dear Jen, are you alright?"
Before I could turn, I felt Maggie's hands on my shoulders, and then the soft pressure of her tits in my back. I could barely get my thoughts together as the hard tips of her nipples pressed delightfully through my T-shirt. I was acutely aware of her body against mine, her full tits in my back and her crotch now gently, sensually, rubbing against my arse. I could smell her perfume, and I was instantly aroused again, I pushed back with my bum, I had never felt so horny before, especially so soon after an orgasm. "Are you OK Jen, has something gone down the wrong way?" The question was accompanied by a firm thrust of her groin and a push with her tits. Her hands were caressing my neck and shoulders, from where my mother was sitting, it would have looked totally innocent, but I felt like jelly. My body was quivering with lust for this woman, who was old enough to be my mother.
With a shaking hand, I managed to get the glass tumbler down on to the sink drainer. My voice wobbled a little as I said, "I'm OK thanks Maggie." I turned to break her hold on me and for a delicious, all too brief moment, her tits were pressed hard against mine, a shiver went right through my whole body. Much as I was enjoying Maggie's attention, if I had stayed put, I would have molested her, right there and then in our kitchen, and in front of my mother too.
I scraped past her and made my excuses to leave, feeling embarrassed and exhilarated at the same time. For the rest of that day, I just could not get the erotic images and sensations I had experienced, out of my mind. I was horny all day and had to resort to masturbating in the loo, later that day, just to take the edge off of my arousal. I became, in just one day completely obsessed and besotted with Maggie Wilmott. I had known her for several years through the charity work she had done with my mother, but I found out later from Maggie herself, that she had wanted to get near me for a long time, since I was sixteen in fact. She told me that she had had a suspicion that I was gay when she saw the way I looked at other women at the events she and mum attended.
During our first proper fuck together, she said that she was waiting for a bit more evidence that I was in to girls. That day in our kitchen was all the proof she needed. I have to admit that I felt a little cheated at this news. Maggie had waited so long to make a move on me, when she could have done it a year earlier.
If she had done to me when I was sixteen what she did in the kitchen, I would have let her do anything to me. I was cheated out of a whole year of fantastic sex and countless orgasms.
Four days passed, four days where my teenage thoughts were an exquisite jumble of images and fantasies. I masturbated frequently in those ninety-six hours, with just one source for my arousal; Maggie Wilmott.
On the fourth day, a fateful day, a momentous day, I fucked Maggie Wilmott, or maybe she fucked me.