Gwen

 

“Holly when I asked for your advice I did so because you are such a sympathetic listener and seem to be worldly-wise.” Gwen looked deep into my eyes.

I must have pulled a face at the ‘worldly-wise’ bit. “No, no! I don’t mean... that is, I mean... oh dear. Oh Holly, do you think I’ve left it too late? To be married, I mean?”

Gwen had turned fifty years old a few weeks
back and had shocked us, her little group of friends in the office, by revealing that she had a man! Not only that but she, was going to be married.

Our friend had mothered us youngsters, we had all joined the company fresh out of school, helped us through the typical things that young girls find important, mainly boyfriend problems, etc.

In our turn we had introduced her to modern fashions, we introduced her to alcohol, which in hindsight might have been a mistake; it was one glass of wine too many that had loosened her tongue to reveal her impending marriage.

At fifty years of age and dressed in up to date fashions, and after a visit to our favourite coiffeuse, Gwen was stunning. Slim build, almost flawless skin, maintained that way by years of avoiding the harsh rays of the sun, together with a sensible diet. Her bright eyes, a little button nose, and generous lips, when enhanced by the subtle application of make-up made her one of the prettiest ladies around. The only problem was, for us to convince her to always look that way; she was very self-conscious and hated the stares and compliments of men.

Our friend had cornered me one day whilst the other girls weren’t around and begged me to help her. Blushing to the roots of her auburn hair she had confided that she knew nothing of sex. As yet all she and her man had done was to kiss; it seems that even at that simple task neither was experienced or comfortable.

“Kissing,” stated Gwen baldly, “You're so good at it; I saw you kissing George, and saw the effect it had on him.”

Oh my god! The only time I ever kissed George was at an office party. I had cornered him in a side room where I was sure we were alone. George was married but all I wanted was to kiss the gorgeous man the one time; his wife needed to have no fear that I intended an affair! Somehow little Miss Gwen had observed me kissing him, I dare not ask her for any details. The effect that Gwen referred to was the one I became aware of poking into my lower belly from George’s groin. In fact despite myself and a raging desire to fuck him there and then, I told him that just a kiss was all I wanted and returned to the party.

Now, I felt so stupid, contorting my mouth, lips, in fact all of my face in an effort to demonstrate to my friend how to kiss, I even kissed my arm; I even dared to suggest that in advanced kissing tongues were used. Gwen’s face was a study in concentration and it took all my powers to prevent myself laughing at her.

“Yes, yes Holly but you have kissed lots of...” Gwen stopped short realising what she may be insinuating.

“Gwen darling, it’s okay, I know what you mean, and yes, it’s true I have done a lot of kissing.” Throwing my arms around her I hugged her tiny body to me.

What the hell entered my head at that moment I still find impossible to explain, and even now I blush at the thought of it. With my arms holding her to me I pulled back my head, looked into her innocent eyes then slowly moved my mouth to cover hers. Gwen’s eyes closed; even then my head was clear enough to stop the madness in my brain. But no, I parted my lips and kissed her as softly as any guy had ever kissed me.

 OH MY GOD!
If I had the rest of my life and every single word in every single language, I would not be able to describe the electric, the sensuous, and the mind blowing sensation of kissing her. Gwen opened her eyes; the pupils were dilated to huge black saucers, her arms gently pulled at my waist, she smiled and closed her eyes.

Now I was in trouble, what was I to do?  As if in answer, the lips touching mine responded in mimic of my first touch. Damn it, when I had the chance to duck out I screwed up, I kissed her with more insistence. Insistence became passion, and each of my new moves was instantly reciprocated as Gwen learned and demonstrated just how good a pupil she was.

As the teacher, my problem was that, although my pupil was, or so I hoped, only demonstrating that she learned fast, I on the other hand was getting turned on!

You know how sometimes you get a little blasé about things you do often? And I guess it applies to me and kissing a guy. Sure it’s great, I adore it, but there are other sensations that soon make much more demand on one’s attention so that kissing is subsidiary to the main event.

Okay, what I am trying to get at here is that, although by now my heart was pumping and other things were happening around my body, the experience of my mouth on that of this middle-aged woman seemed so different to that I have experienced with a man. There was tenderness without the ever present ulterior motive that made kissing only a means to an end.

Oh fuck, now what? If Gwen had been any one of my other friends willing to experience a lesbian kiss as a bit of fun, then I would have sucked at her tongue, felt her boobs up , even grabbed at her pussy until we both saw sense and fell about laughing. But this was Gwen, our darling friend and bosom buddy. I was ostensibly teaching her to kiss, but for me it was getting out of hand; I was enjoying it, I wanted more, whatever more was, I had no idea.

 A trickle of my juices soaked into the crotch of my panties, and I knew the signs only too well that the trickle would inevitably become a stream then a flood. Guys have told me that I advertise very readily the state of heightened arousal in that mustiness that results from panties slick with my honey.

But what happens now? Normally a hand cups my boob, finger tweak a nipple, then bit by bit, usually too slow for  me the male hand finds the source of my mustiness and is encouraged to enter my pussy with thick fingers that open me up driving me wild with passion before that wonderful moment when his cock explores my depths.

What now? I have no cock, Gwen has no cock and without a doubt she has no desire to think about, let alone touch my dripping pussy. This is going to be such a frustrating day! I don’t even have the opportunity to bring myself off. I shall have to ditch my dirty undies, and wash and perfume my pussy or the girls will smell the mustiness and accuse me of having fucked some guy in their absence.

Gwen, bless her, came to my immediate rescue, but then she damned me forever. She moaned something through my passionate kisses. I broke the kiss our saliva coating both our lips.

“Holly, don’t think I don’t know what’s happing to us, I’ve heard you girls often enough giggling over a previous night’s date with a man. But you always leave out too many details and it doesn’t make too much sense to me.”

I realise that my mouth is hanging open; that sneaky woman, do we girls have no secrets from her?

My face is burning, as is my clit. My pussy is not used to this lack of attention at such times. Honey is beginning to explore the inside of my thighs as never before; there is usually a male tongue eager to lap up any stray juices. My body is red hot, I need air! I am out of breath.

“Ah... what is it you want, I should stop? You are happy with the lesson; you can manage on your own now?” I pant.

“Oh Holly, you have been such a dear, teaching me to kiss like this, my fiancée has never kissed with such passion and technique. But of course now I worry as to what to do when he fires me with such burning desires as you are right now.”

My head spins, I think I am going to faint. Enough of this madness, no, no, NO! I cannot go where it is that my heart and head and she are urging me to go. NO!

Gwen pulls me tighter as if she has read my mind. With one hand at the back of my head she gently eases it towards hers until once again our lips touch, Shit! Why did she have to learn so quickly? Why is her mouth on mine so sensuous, so demanding, I shouldn’t be doing this; I am not gay!

Now she takes the initiative, her tongue swirls and investigates my oral cavity, touches my tongue, and in a flash of exquisite sensory excitement I capitulate, to my heart, to my head, to her.

Opening my eyes I see hers flicker open, they smile at me and I am enthralled at this middle-aged woman who looks only thirty years old. We kiss, not as teacher and pupil but as lovers taking their first faltering step. Even as my passion surpasses the highest peak I chastise myself and vow never to allow myself to be put in this situation again.

We are in a rest room and I guide Gwen to a cubicle, closing the door I break our kiss. Lifting the hem of her pretty dress I reveal her slim legs. My fingers glide over the soft white skin of her thighs, and I’m pleased to see she is wearing panties that the girls had bought her.  As my fingertips travel nearer her dark blue panties her thighs part slightly and I smile as there is a darker blue where evidence of her honey gives witness to the level of her arousal. Mother nature; bless her, made some things totally without the need of experience or even awareness.

With my fingers now almost at her pussy Gwen’s trembling fingers touch mine to tell me that she is not sure as to what I am doing or what comes next. I kiss her trembling lips softly, and she tastes so sweet, so soft, and once again so very vulnerable. My lips and tongue trail over her chin, down her throat, kissing, sucking and licking. Her body becomes more relaxed, she surrenders to me.

Unbuttoning the bodice of the dress I reveal a neat white bra, with a finger I gently push the bra to free her white breasts. My lips nibble each nipple in turn and now Gwen gives in to her feelings, giving a low moan. Her eyes are closed her lips parted, pink of her tongue merges with the colour that has almost been stolen by my lips as we kissed.

Pulling Gwen tight to my body and locking my mouth on hers I push my hand between her thighs at the point where there is a small space between them and find the result of our activities. I am forced to admit to myself that we are now indulging in love-making. I want her, I don’t as yet know quite how, but I will use my knowledge and act as a guy would do. My fingers trace a line from between her thighs to where I feel the top of her cleft; it’s not well defined for as yet Gwen does not shave her mound.  Circulating my fingertips over her clit a press and in moments my lover is moaning softly. I open my eyes as I kiss her; her eyes are tightly shut.

Pulling aside the panties I work my fingers over labia that are now pumped with blood from a heart that is pounding so hard that I can feel it against my ribs, even over the beating of mine. Her secretions are slick and have spread over her vulva; although virginal I feel no resistance as gently I insert a finger tip between the moist lips. There is a slight tension in her body but it soon relaxes.

A final passionate kiss and I take my mouth from hers, she opens her eyes and I smile reassurance. Releasing the rest of the buttons of her dress I expose a body of which even twenty year old would be proud. My fingers at the waist band I ease the panties over her hips; she trusts me, there is no resistance.  I slip the dress from her shoulders to reveal her nakedness and sit her gently on the toilet seat cover, her bottom at the very front. Between her soft thighs I face a situation that an hour ago I would never have wanted to encounter. This woman is clean and hygienic but I, Holly, have never before been so close to a pussy other than my own and even then not with my face almost on it. Maybe I would have less reticence if Gwen had shaved but, it is there, unshaved, hairy.

Summoning all my courage I close my eyes and tentatively poke the tip of my tongue at the point of her clit. Having had my juices carried to my mouth on that of a guy that has just brought me to a crashing, throbbing cunnilingual orgasm I am strangely surprised that the taste of this lady is not without merit and I begin to lap at her pussy, perhaps I can provide e her with a cunnilingual orgasm.

I fear that Gwen with come crashing down on top of me, she writhes so at my ministrations at her pussy. Her cries alarm me as I fear that someone will discover us. But all is resolved as, with a loud moan then yell she comes, my fingers inside her are crushed by her contractions.

I spent an awful afternoon dying to bring myself to orgasm but never having the opportunity.

Gwen never married her man; she took up instead with a pink-haired, pierced twenty something female from the accounts office. I am proud to have helped her.