The Piano Teacher - Cover

The Piano Teacher

Copyright© 2013 by Bunty Scott

Chapter 9

Lesbian Sex Story: Chapter 9 - A piano teacher indulges her lust for other women.

Caution: This Lesbian Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Lesbian  

For the second time in less than half an hour, I re-emerged and mingled with the seemingly unsuspecting horde of people in the church hall. Nothing had changed, there were still the old dears rummaging through the old tat that seems to be so attractive to the elderly.

All the stallholders were still at their posts; proudly displaying their rickety tables of old clothes, china, books and all manner of bric a brac.

I don't know why I was surprised, but no one seemed to notice me come back in to the hall. No heads turned in my direction, no one pointed at me or Maggie, there were no disapproving stares or glares. It appeared that not one single person in the entire hall had the slightest inkling that Maggie and me had just been shagging each other like rutting animals. Unlike Ruth though, Maggie hadn't deemed it necessary to walk in separately; she wasn't trying to distance herself from me; I was pleased about that.

In fact, Maggie was confident, if not plain brazen enough, to hold my arm as we crossed the hall. She also saw it as a chance to rub her arm against my boob;

she was a randy old bird, was Margaret Wilmott. We parked ourselves back at the gaggle of old ladies that we'd left earlier. One said, "You were quick Maggie, did you do what you wanted?"

Maggie grinned and pressed her arm against my tit, "Oh yes, I did what I wanted. Jenny here was a tremendous help." I got another nudge of the boob to emphasise the point.

I just smiled. The ensuing conversation was boring to say the least, but Maggie seemed interested in what was being said, I was trying not to yawn, and Maggie still had a firm hold on my arm, and was showing no sign of letting me go any time soon. She was also enjoying herself having secret squeezes of my boob.

As I glanced at my watch for the umpteenth time, my mother appeared at my elbow and rescued me. "I don't know where you've been hiding all afternoon, I could never find you. Anyway, I'm ready to go if you are Jen."

"OK, yes, I'm ready mum." Maggie gave me a sideways glance and rubbed my boob one last time before letting go of my arm.

"Are you going now Gabby, can you give me a lift to the top of my road please?"

"Of course Maggie." We said our goodbyes and made our way to mother's car.

We left through the churchyard and turned down a side street to where mum had parked her blue Fiesta. As we got to the car, mum said, 'Sorry Jen, I've still got some jumble on the front seat, do you mind sitting in the back?" Mum pressed the button on her key fob and unlocked the doors.

Maggie opened the passenger door for me and beamed a big smile, she didn't miss a chance this one, and I loved it. As the car is only a two-door, I had to move seatback as far as it would go with the pile of jumble on it. As I bent forward, I felt Maggie's hand grab my arse and give it a sly squeeze; I almost banged my head. I scooted across the seat and Maggie followed, closing the door behind her; she moved up close so that her thigh was pressed against mine.

"Thanks Gabby, my feet are killing me, I couldn't face the walk." Mum fastened her seatbelt. "No problem Maggie, it's a pleasure. Belt up ladies."

I did my belt up and Maggie helped me by straightening my belt, which wasn't actually twisted. She slid her hand under the belt and dragged her hand slowly across both my tits, not once, but twice. Mum looked at us in her mirror, "OK back there, ready to go?" Given the go-ahead, mum set off at her sensible, law-abiding pace.

We hadn't gone far when I felt Maggie's leg nudging hard against mine. I looked down and saw that she had slyly pulled her dress right up her thigh and had exposed her arse. She leaned to one side and lifted her leg revealing the gusset of her knickers.

I hesitated for a moment, checking that my mother wasn't watching us in her mirror; she wasn't, she was busy concentrating on the traffic.

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