Chapter 9: Rachael

The week after my first humiliating and so satisfying visit to Bristol and my quite voluntary submission to a vicious gangbang by twenty butch lesbians, something happened that was destined to change my life, although unfortunately not soon enough to prevent further degradation for “the little slut.”

I had booked in to a hotel in Leicester, which I had not stayed at before, and decided to eat in the hotel restaurant for a change – I usually just had room service. When I went down to eat, I wore a simple brown cord skirt with buttons down the front, from waist to hem, and with a hem line sitting mid-thigh; bare legs as ever and brown stilettos completed the bottom half of my wardrobe, and of course no panties. On the top half I wore a bronze semi-transparent shirt, with buttons from neck to bottom, which showed the shape of my breasts and if you looked closely, my nipples as well.

As I entered the restaurant, I followed a very attractive, dark haired, woman of about 50 in to the dining room. She was wearing a simple but obviously very expensive blue shift dress with a necklace and bracelet which also looked expensive. Stockings (or tights) and stilettos the same height as mine, completed her look. I admired her poise and look, but did not think about her again as we went to different parts of the room to our tables.

Once I had finished my supper, I decided I would go to the bar for an after-dinner drink. As was now my normal pattern in hotels, I went and sat on a large two-seater sofa in the corner of the bar. I was just deciding what drink to order. when the woman in blue came into the bar, and looked around. I could see she was a bit taller than me, probably 5-6/167cms, and a bit heavier than me, around 10stone/65kgs kilos perhaps, but very attractively built as well as dressed. To my surprise, having spotted me in the corner looking at my phone, she confidently walked towards me, a slight smile on her face.

“Hello. As we seem to be the only single women in here, would you mind if I join you. I suppose solo is the more accurate way of putting it. Do you fancy sharing a bottle of wine with me – my treat?”

I hesitated for a second or two, more from the surprise than anything, before telling her that would be nice. As she sat down, I told her what a lovely dress she was wearing and how simple shift dresses were my own favourites too.

She smiled and told me “You look very attractive too – and sexy – I was looking at you in the restaurant and admiring the confidence with which you wear that look. You have the perfect figure for a shirt like that.”

Blushing I thanked her, as she summoned the barman and ordered a nice chilled bottle of Chablis, and we made small talk while waiting for him to return with the bottle in an ice bucket, discovering we were both living in London and here for business. She told me her name was Rachael.

Once the wine was poured and we had toasted each other, she said “So are you?”

“Excuse me? Am I what?”

“Single”

“Oh, I wondered what you meant” I laughed, before replying “I am semi-single” and laughed again.

“What does semi mean?”

“It means I have a girlfriend who I see at weekends – I live in London and she is in Manchester so maybe three days out of seven we see each other.”

“Did you think I meant are you a lesbian? I am sorry that would have been a very impertinent first question. But as I did ask it and you have just answered it, so now I know you are” she laughed, before asking “How long have you been in this weekend relationship? Have you always known you were gay?”

“About nine months and no I never saw myself as a lesbian before her.”

Again, she apologised for asking such personal questions, and told me she did not mean it to come out like it had, but she was interested to know more about me. And then asked “How did you meet?”

“Do you want the long or the short version?”

“We have all night and wine – give me the long version!”

“I was married young, just 21, after university, but my husband dumped me for his gay lover, so I was emotionally destroyed by his betrayal. So married at 21, celibate at 23, separated at 24 and divorced at 26! I was a wreck for a long time. My flat mate at uni was a lesbian - I never did anything with her by the way – but she and her now wife helped me through the traumas. Anyway, about nine months ago, I had dinner with her in Manchester and afterwards she took me to a lesbian bar in the gay village, for a bit of fun - to tease me, I think. However, it was crowded and, somehow, we got separated and I found myself chatting with a big butch dyke called Cheryl – well, suddenly it just clicked between us. She took me home and I ended up staying the whole weekend with her. I have been with her almost every weekend since then. It is a bit ironic that my husband dumped me to go into a gay relationship and now here am I, in a gay relationship too! So that is me. What about you? Are you single?”

“Yes. I am single – work, career and now owning and building a very successful business have ruled my life.”

“Has there never been anybody?”

“Of course, there have been people but nobody that made me want to spend my life with them. So, changing the subject from my boring love life, where do you live in London – perhaps we are neighbours?”

“I live in a riverside flat on the South Bank near Tower Bridge – directly opposite St Katherine’s Dock.”

“That is nice – I live in a riverside apartment too – in Chelsea Harbour – up river from you. Maybe we should meet up sometime for a drink or dinner.”

“That would be nice. I would like that. I am enjoying chatting with you.”

With that, she ordered another bottle of wine, and as she poured a fresh glass for me, lightly rested her hand on my bare thigh just below my skirt. In a shy quiet voice, she then whispered “You are very attractive you know. I could not take my eyes off you in the restaurant. I meant it when I said you looked very sexy dressed like that.”

I blushed again and quietly replied “Is this a subtle way of letting me know you are gay too?”

“Maybe – or maybe it is just a way of telling you I find you sexy and attractive. It is increasingly difficult to concentrate on finding interesting things to say when I cannot take my eyes of your breasts and nipples – they are beautiful you know!”

“Thank you – I am pleased you like what you see. You are stunning too you know – you have lovely eyes – even if they keep looking at my boobs” and I burst out laughing, and then we were both in fits of laughter and her hand gently slipped under the hem of my skirt and lightly squeezed my thigh.

“Shall I get another bottle of wine and maybe take it up to my room to share” she said in a husky voice.

“No more wine – I have had enough. Why don’t we just go up to your room and get to know each other better” I softly said to her as I placed my hand on the hand that was sitting on my thigh, under my skirt, and gave it a squeeze.

She looked at me and smiled. We both finished our wine quickly. Standing, she offered me her hand to help me up, and then, hand in hand, we left the bar and walked to the elevator. Once inside we leaned in to exchange a beautiful, light, lips to lips, kiss, both our eyes closed as we savoured the feeling of a new relationship about to bloom. The feeling was completely different to Cheryl, and as the lift stopped, we both opened our eyes and gave each other shy smiles.

Now we had reached her floor, we strolled slowly down the corridor, still hand in hand, until we stopped in front of her door. Once again, a gentle, lips on lips, kiss was exchanged before she opened the door and led me inside, bedside lights already illuminating the bed in a low, warm glow.

As she kicked off her stilettos and took off her jewellery, I went to the large window and looked out at the night lights and traffic a few floors below, kicking off my own towering heels at the same time. She came up behind me in her stockinged feet and slipped her arms around my waist, her hands resting on my flat belly. A gentle kiss on my neck, behind my ear, sent goose bumps down my arms, and a tingle to my pussy. Slowly, and very welcome for me, her hands slid up to my breasts, cupping each one in a soft embrace, her fingers letting two hard nipples press the semi-transparent shirt front between them.

“Oh, that is so nice” I moaned, as I watched us in the reflection of the dark, full-length window. She squeezed nipples and breasts while continuing to kiss, lick and blow on my ears and neck. I reached behind me and found her hips and pulled her against my bum, leaning back on her so her breasts were pressing against my barely covered back.

Now her hands moved again and began the slow, painstaking task of unbuttoning each shirt button, starting right up by my neck, and gradually moving down to my skirt waist, popping each button in turn, until the shirt was gaping open. She pulled the silky material from my skirt waist band and pulled it open, revealing my naked breasts to her gaze as she too looked at our reflection in the window. She gently pulled the shirt off my shoulders, slipped it down my arms and then let it fall to the floor beside us.

As her left hand returned to caressing my left breast and nipple, the right hand dropped down to the waistband of my skirt and slowly, one by one, undid each button until the skirt was open enough to just slide to the floor to join my shirt. As she seductively massaged my left breast, her right hand slid tentatively across my belly to my navel and then, as her hand stroked my flat midriff, her fingers moved to point down and then slide over my bare mons towards my eager and willing vulva.

Her fingers stroked my wet and swelling labia, moving between, then alongside, my fleshy lips. I moaned with delight when the first finger slipped inside me, soon to be joined by a second long finger reaching deep inside. At the same time her thumb moved up to my bulging clitoris and started to circle it, gently at first and then harder and faster. My legs fell open and I clutched her hips to hold her against my back and bum, leaning against her for support. She curled her fingers inside my soaking love tunnel and found my g-spot, behind my clitoris, which she continued to circle and strum like an instrument to be played.

As my breathing became more erratic, she suddenly pressed my entire naked body against the full-length window, squashing my small breasts flat against the glass, and trapping her own hand inside me. The recently discovered exhibitionist in me stared down at the people and traffic passing three floors below us, and within seconds my orgasm arrived and once again I squirted my love juices everywhere. All over her hand, my thighs, the floor, and the window. I would have collapsed if her fingers inside me and her hand on my breast were not holding me upright against the glass.

“Oh my god, that was wonderful,” I gasped as my breathing returned to near-normal levels.

“Does the chance someone down below might see you turn you on?”

“Oh, so much – I am an exhibitionist as you have already guessed. I loved you staring at my breasts and nipples downstairs, and now you have given me one of the best orgasms I have ever had just by pressing me against the window while you did all those wonderful things to me.”

“Good – now get my clothes off and then I can take you to bed and hopefully we will both cum just like that together.”