Chapter 4: Firsts

Although I had always been shy and lacking in confidence, over the coming weeks and months, I think I was taken over by an almost wild hysteria that dominated my life and led me down paths I neither expected or necessarily wanted. At first, the driving force was a massive sense of euphoria that after so long with nobody, now someone really loved me for who I was. It was a feeling I had never experienced before and it just made me so open and available to this wonderful woman. It also meant I had an overwhelming need to please her all the time.

The second weekend together she took me to the cinema on Friday, for a rubbish film I cannot remember anything about, which meant the place was less than half full. We took two seats off to the side as far from anyone else as possible, and as soon as we were seated, I turned my head to her and kissed her long and hard and whispered “I think I am falling in love with you – don’t hurt me please.” She put her arm round my shoulders and pulled me close, her tenderness all the answer I needed.

Taking the initiative for once, I dropped my hand into her lap and flicked the button on her cargo pants open, pushed the zip down and slid my hand inside to find her clitoral ring and her big fleshy labia. For the next twenty minutes I did to her what she loved doing to me, my fingers inside her and my thumb working her clit, until finally, with a muffled groan as she buried her face in my hair, she came for me. I was so pleased with myself and knew I wanted to always please this big hard woman with the soft and gentle personality.

Then it was my turn! She turned in her seat to face me, pushed me back into the seat and then told me to slide forward so my pussy was over the front edge of the seat. I was wearing one of the spaghetti strap dresses she had chosen for me (totally impractical for the end of February but Cheryl liked it.) She took my dress and pushed it up my thighs until my pussy was fully exposed, telling me to lift my bottom so she could push the dress up behind me and my bare bum was on the edge of the cushioned seat. The next instruction was simple – spread my legs as wide as I could. Her hand then slid up my thigh to my gaping and already dripping pussy and began to quietly masturbate me. My small hand was still in her cargo pants so I played with her clit ring as she fingered my love tunnel and tweaked my own clit. Her arm round my shoulders let her hand fall to my small breast and slip inside my flimsy dress to pinch and pull my erect nipple.

We kissed almost non-stop till the film ended. I had had several mini orgasms and as we stood to leave, we both saw the damp patch on the seat where my love juices had dripped for the last hour or more – we both smiled and I giggled again – I had giggled girlishly more with this woman than I had with any other person in my adult life.

And that is how we went forward - I continued meeting Cheryl whenever I was up north or she could get to London, in her small apartment or my much more up market one in London, whichever fitted in with my work. So mainly, and increasingly, in Manchester as the weeks and months went by. We became a real loving couple, going shopping together, to restaurants, lesbian bars, cinemas, shows and clubs, but with me never again wearing any undies. The clothes she chose for me when shopping became increasingly daring and revealing, lots of leg and flesh on show, and giving every chance my emerging exhibitionist nature would flash some part of my body to unsuspecting strangers.

We became more adventurous together all the time, more flashing, and more sex in more public places – bars, clubs, cinemas – I was like a bitch in heat and wanted her to be using me at every opportunity. After six years of celibacy, she had awoken a beast inside me I never knew I had – I was insatiable and fortunately so was she. In our favourite lesbian bar where we had first met, I discovered I had a growing reputation for flashing cunt, bum, and tits, not necessarily on purpose but just not caring who saw what, and did not cause a fuss if a hand “accidentally” groped my bum.

I loved being introduced to her friends as her girlfriend but I was genuinely in tears of happiness when she bought me an engagement ring, telling me it was not an engagement ring but a commitment ring, to show our love for each other. Of course, it did not take long for clients and colleagues to spot the new ring and to start asking who my new man was. I was blushing and did not really want to admit to anyone at work that I was in a lesbian relationship, but I suddenly remembered Cheryl’s loving kisses, and so, still blushing madly, said “Cheryl,” an ex-soldier, living in Manchester (so they would never meet her), big and muscular with tattoos and most definitely not my type at all really. Everyone laughed and wished me well. I wear that ring proudly, with love and much emotion to this day, although not on my wedding finger.

Cheryl loved me deeply and if I am honest with myself, I did love her too, very much. Maybe I am a lesbian, although I still did not know if I was or not, but most definitely I knew I was bi and did love my big butch girlfriend. I am what I am.

I tell her how much she means to me but ... For all the love and the great sex, and the risks we took to enjoy each other, something nagged away at the back of my mind. Gradually I realised fingers, tongues, dildos, vibrators, and big strap-on, are all wonderful but deep inside I knew I needed something more. Something had been awakened in me. Maybe it was always there but suppressed. This need to reveal my body and to do risky things in public increased the longer my deeply loving relationship with Cheryl progressed – and in her increasingly dominant role and my increasingly submissive behaviour, she helped me to fulfil my newly awakened longing for those risks.

One weekend Cheryl fitted a new white board to the wall beside our bed. On it was printed “Laura’s Firsts” and under the heading the start of a list of my “achievements”: first lesbian kiss; first lesbian relationship; first lesbian sex; first anal and vaginal strap-on; and lots of room below for more “firsts” – over the next few weekends together I ticked off a list of “firsts” that I did not realise I wanted.

I arrived In Manchester one Thursday evening in late April, probably we had been together for eight or nine weeks by then, to be met by Cheryl at the train station with a very passionate kiss and an even more obvious groping of my bare bum. I had changed on the train into one of her favourite little short dresses, so she would see I was eager for my weekend lover. As we walked to her apartment the groping continued, with her hand on my bum under my short dress or her arm around my shoulders and her hand inside the top of my dress playing with my nipple. As we passed people and I saw them looking at our lewd behaviour, I was red with embarrassment but, as my arousal levels increased at the same time, I could feel my inner thighs getting wet as my juices began to flow.

I started to tell her to stop, as I was afraid we would be caught, but she just laughed and told me I loved it and she could feel my wetness, and in any case, if I was embarrassed now wait till tomorrow! Although I demanded to know what she meant she would not tell me and refused to tell me anything more all night long. Friday morning started with our now regular slow, morning love-making, her fingers and tongue buried in me for a couple of hours and two lovely orgasms, until I brought her to her own noisy conclusion during our final 69 session. As I showered, she picked out the dress she wanted me to wear, plus a very lightweight pair of open sandals.

When I came back to the bedroom, she handed me the dress, one we had bought last weekend. Superficially it was quite demure by the standards she had been setting for me. It was a pretty, floral mini dress with cap shoulders and with nine buttons from the round neck to hem, and when I slipped it on it came to mid-thigh. But things rapidly changed as she undid the top button so the first button that was done up sat between my nipples and most of my chest was visible above the button. As if that was not enough, she then undid the bottom two buttons so the first button working up the dress that was done up was about a hand-width below my pussy. Slipping on my sandals and with nothing for me to carry, she led me by the hand out of the apartment, down the stairs. And out the front door into the streets of Manchester, the breeze fluttering the hem of my dress and giving tantalising glimpses of most of my bare thighs. For the next hour she walked me around the shops and shopping malls of central Manchester, and at every opportunity groped my bum and pussy, not always very discretely.

Finally, as we passed a small alley way between a bank and a big fashion retailer, she pulled my hand and led me down the alley. About 20 metres down the lane there was a builder’s skip up against the wall of the bank, and without warning she suddenly pushed me behind the skip, up against the wall and leaned in for another one of her wet passionate kisses.

“I told you, you were going to enjoy today. Now you are going to be embarrassed and aroused, because you are my slutty little subby exhibitionist,” she whispered in my ear as, slowly, she began to unbutton my dress. “Do not speak, do not move, just look over the skip and watch the people walking past the end of the lane. See if you can hear what they say when they realise there is a little slut being fucked in broad daylight in the street.”

She had called me a slut before but only in jest and when we were playing – “you are such a little slut” or “cum to bed my little slut” – but she had never spoken to me like this, and her words sent shivers down my spine. Yes, I was her slut and submissive for her and an exhibitionist, but it had never been vocalised so bluntly.

As she undid the final button, she pushed the dress back on both sides, leaving my entire body revealed. “Now put both your hands behind your back and pull the dress back and hold it behind you,” she ordered, “and spread your legs as wide as you can. Do not move – just keep looking at the people going by.”

First, she kissed me again and, at the same time, gripped, pinched, and twisted my nipples, before dropping her mouth onto each one in turn, sucking biting and licking them until they were painfully hard and erect. Now her hand slid down my body and very swiftly found my pussy that was already slick with my juices. Two, then three, fingers easily slipped into my welcoming tunnel, and Cheryl began a hard vigorous finger fucking of my eager cunt.