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Three years previous to writing this I had a
relationship that I will never forget nor regret, I have alluded to this
event to some close acquaintances with whom I chat to over the internet,
but have never told the full facts of the matter to anyone. I hope that
some may find this as interesting as I myself have found the experiences
of others.
I will explain a little of myself to place these events into some context:
I was born in Scotland during the July of 1976, this I am told was a
notable year for the UK because of the very warm summer which was
untypical, not that my birth had anything to do with it of course. Unknown
to my Mother at the time of my birth was the fact that my Father had died
whilst on service with the Royal Navy, she later told me that he died on
the very day that I was born. I wasn't sure if this was exactly true
because the Navy refused to provide details about his death due to the
nature of his work. My Mother was never convinced about the facts of his
death because she too worked for Naval Intelligence and understood other
interpretations to the statement " killed during a training exercise",
added to this is the fact that his body was never recovered (My Father was
based at Faslane in Scotland which is a nuclear submarine Base). She knew
that this statement was also a euphemism for men who were killed during
some secret conflict (of which there are many), suffice to say she was
notified of his death on the day I was born. Very soon after my birth we
moved back to England and I began life on my Fathers estate, it is not too
grand compared to some I know of but it covers a wide expanse of moorland
and ancient woodland and it is without doubt a very beautiful estate.
The estate was named after a character from a Tennyson poem and it evokes
wonderful images of the ancient peoples of Albion (England) and the Sirule
from whom all magical things were descended. The estate is my only
tangible link to my Father and it echoes his former presence and sustains
his memory. He grew up here throughout his childhood and beyond and the
family albums show him as he changed from boy to man, his life appeared to
be one of privilege but I know little of his thoughts or beliefs.
At the age of eleven I was sent to a Convent to be educated, this was a
very pleasant time for me due to the fact that I met so many others girls
of my own age. Life on the estate was often quite lonely and isolated and
most of my contact with others was restricted to my Mothers staff who were
obviously adult and my Tutor Ms. Vivien.
Prior to going to the convent much of my time was spent reading and day
dreaming of Knights and Damsels in distress and the usual things that I
assume young children ponder. I was never a naturally gifted child (none
too bright) but excelled in things that I liked such as art and natural
history. My life at the convent was quite uneventful until my final year,
I was aged about 17 years and I had established myself as one of the sixth
year matures.
I know that there are many stereotypes regarding convent-educated girls
but these are, for the most part, drawn from male fantasy as far as I can
make out. Whilst we played little games and had crushes on various other
girls I have never perceived our activities as lewd or sinister. One
particular girl who was quite well developed used to make some of the
girls eat salt in order to decide which would spend time with her in her
room. She would tell us about sex and how it was done. She would sometimes
sit on the sofa and get me to feel her cunny through her knickers, I was
enthralled by her demeanour each time I would do this, her face would
become flushed and her breathing more intense. She used to get me to lie
at her side and rub her; sometimes she would press my hand onto her cunny.
Other times she would put my hand inside her knickers and gently stroke
her, she would become quite angry if I did not do it properly. Sometimes
she would stop me suddenly, she would tell me that I must go and that she
was tiring of me but this was her way of teasing I think.
On other occasions I would have to lie on my back with my eyes blindfolded
as she rubbed herself against me, she would tell me not to move or make a
sound, I had to lie perfectly still. She was admired greatly by many of
the other girls because she was quite well developed and appeared very
mature to us. We were all forbidden to share a bed and one or two girls
were punished for breaking this rule, some of the girls found it difficult
to be away from home and would seek comfort from others. I never shared my
bed but I know that a number of girls used to share and lie facing each
other whilst they caressed each other's breasts. Sometimes I would lie in
bed trying to see as much as I could in the half-light of the moon but
this was rarely a fruitful exercise. The discovery of our own sexuality
was a natural part of growing up and even now I do not view our secret
games as anything other than a natural consequence of this. There were no
males in the convent and the only time we ever saw a man was when various
suppliers of foodstuffs and laundry etc made deliveries. We were not
allowed to venture too close when such deliveries were made, great effort
was made to keep us from the contact of those who were regarded as
undesirable.
Sometimes she would stop me suddenly, she would tell me that I must go and
that she was tiring of me but this was her way of teasing I think. Other
times I would have to lie on my back with my eyes blindfolded as she
rubbed herself against me, she would tell me not to move or make a sound,
I had to lie perfectly still. She was admired greatly by many of the other
girls because she was quite well developed and appeared very confident to
us. We all had to perform menial tasks for the older girls such as clean
their rooms (we had dorms), their shoes and make tea etc. This was not
compulsory and the school did not encourage this practice but it was wise
to do as required or one was likely to be shunned and isolated by the
older girls if we did not fit in. We were all forbidden to share a bed and
one or two girls were punished for breaking this rule, some of the girls
found it difficult to be away from home and would seek comfort from
others. I never shared my bed but I know that a number of girls used to
share and lie facing each other whilst they caressed each other's breasts.
Sometimes I would lie in bed trying to see as much as I could in the
half-light of the moon but this was rarely a fruitful exercise. The
discovery of our own sexuality was a natural part of growing up and even
now I do not view our secret games as anything other than a natural
consequence of this. There were no males in the convent and the only time
we ever saw a man was when various suppliers of foodstuffs and laundry etc
made deliveries. We were not allowed to venture too close when such
deliveries were made, great effort was made to keep us from the contact of
those who were regarded as undesirable.
This was not simply a snobbish perception of working people; the Nuns
seemed to think that the Devil was waiting to corrupt us in the guise of a
man at any and every opportunity.
There is a popular belief that Nuns swish around in their great long
habits totally up tight and repressed; this is not the case at all. Most
Nuns are very fun loving, do not always wear their habits and they do have
a sexuality, I could evidence this but it is not appropriate to do so.
Any road up, back to the main theme:
In my final year at school I did rather well in my 'A' level exams and was
accordingly despatched to Westfield University of London, would you
believe it, my college was formerly an all girl college on Finchley road.
Our accommodation block, which was on the perimeter of the college,
overlooked some of the older London houses, which had been converted into
apartments. We saw some very interesting sights from our windows on many
occasions; I was on the second floor which had a marvellous view of the
long gardens situated at the back of each house.
There was another accommodation block for womyn situated across from the
library building which was very popular with those who used the music
section of the library. This was due to the fact that the music section
overlooked the bedrooms of the womyn who could be seen at various stages
of undress, as they awoke midmorning (not uncommon for some to sleep in
quite late), the girls never seemed to close their curtains. The men were
housed in separate blocks on the campus.
College life was very strange and interesting to me, as I had never been
exposed to such a variety of cultures and peoples previously; I was very
naieve in many ways. I was amazed by the freedom and liberalism that I
encountered, I was also disappointed by the attitudes of men towards
womyn. In my early years I was always surrounded by other womyn and I had
not encountered any chauvinistic prejudices, I was quite disappointed and
dismayed. My natural reticence towards men was no doubt a result of the
lack of contact with them in my earlier years, I must confess at that time
I was at a loss as to how one should deal with them on a social/sexual
level. All of my heroes were (and still are) womyn like Marie Stopes,
Georgina Rossetti, Sylvia Plath and some were beautiful Nuns who exuded
grace and serenity.
During my first year I made a couple of good friends and life ticked along
with the odd break during which I would visit my Mother. During that first
year I made a friend who was quite special to me, a love I had but was not
to keep.
She was part Malayan and her father was a Scottish soldier who served in
Burma after the war, to cap it all she had an Irish name `Colleen`.
Her lineage was not too dissimilar from mine in that we both had Irish
blood in our veins and Scottish ancestry too. My Colleen was special and
golden to me, she had such beautiful eyes, and a stunningly dark
complexion and she had a sensuous beauty. We spent many hours revising
together either in her room or mine and we became quite close over that
first year.
It was during one of our revision sessions in my room that I had my first
mature (for want of a better term) experience with another womyn. We had
spent the early evening revising the Pre-Raphaelite movement (Victorian
Artists Brotherhood) and in particular those works dealing with the
Arthurian legend. We indulged ourselves with a light white wine and soon
were gushing over the beauty of the womyn who posed for the paintings (I
recommend that you look up the Pre-Raphaelites in the Yahoo Arts search
engine, Rossetti). It was an unusually warm evening and I had not realised
how much my blood had warmed until I squatted down to retrieve some more
wine from under the bed, I was wearing tight fitting jeans and as I was
squatting the thick stitching at the zipper pressed heavily onto my bud.
The sensation was electric, I could feel myself becoming very excited but
also struggled to hide the fact from Colleen who was puzzled by the
expression on my face.
I became flushed and was clearly struggling to contain my pleasure at the
sensations being created by the stitching, Colleen asked ` what's wrong,
you look kind of funny`, I was too embarrassed to say but came out with a
feeble cramp in the toe excuse. She just looked at me smiling as I glowed
with embarrassment, she started giggling and said `oh yeah, cramp eh` to
which I replied no comment hoping that she would assume that the wine was
responsible. I opened the window further to try and cool off and regain
some composure, we both stood at the window, each with a glass of wine as
we looked out over the houses that stood very close by. We began to
comment idly about the people within the houses as they went about their
business, some watching TV, some reading and some just chatting.
It was about ten PM and one of those dark summer nights when the stars
were in clear view but not at all cold, I was feeling rather heady. This
was perhaps the result of the wine but I have always loved the warm summer
evenings because they tend to keep the blood warmed in a most erotic way.
On previous occasions I had brought myself to orgasm as I looked upon the
activity within the houses across the way, I have witnessed so many erotic
sights from my room. My writing desk was situated in front of the window
and I have on more than one occasion sat in the chair with a cushion
between my thighs and against my cunny pretending to read and/or write as
I looked furtively out of the window. Sometimes I would rub my mons over
the edge of the desk as I leaned forward casually looking out of the
window; I would apply gentle pressure against my bud as I leaned over. My
favourite method was too use the cushion and squeeze my thighs together as
I was being observed by someone from one of the houses, I felt
particularly wicked as they had no idea as to what I was doing beneath the
table, more often than not I would have to discretely finish myself off
with my fingers, it was an electric experience each time I indulged
myself, but back to Colleen....
As we continued to look out of the window we observed a young woman as she
returned home from an evening out, she casually undressed and we could
clearly see her breasts and nipples from our vantage point, then a young
man in another house undressed himself with the curtains wide open as he
usually did. Later we saw a couple also returning from an evening out and
a while later they began to have sex on the garden patio, this got us
quite hot especially when he went down on her to taste her delights. I was
enthralled by her movement as he pleasured her intensely. We both felt hot
and bothered by what we witnessed and withdrew from the window giggling
nervously after they had satisfied themselves with each other's touch.
Colleen was to stay that night and this frustrated me a little because I
was yearning to relieve myself but contented myself that there would be
other opportunities.
As it was a single room I only had one bed but sharing was not a problem
as we had shared my bed and hers many times previously and there was
nothing to it. However, this evening was different because we were both
still thinking of what we had seen.
As I lay in bed I could feel the heat of Colleen's body, as she lay
partially uncovered, I kept still silently thinking naughty thoughts. I
dared not touch myself in case Colleen sensed my movement so I lay there
quiet waiting till I fell to sleep.
I'm not sure what time it was but I must have been in the land of Nod when
I felt a pressure on my breast, when I realised what it was a wave of
intense excitement raced through me.
It was Colleens hand, I tried to continue breathing as I imagined I would
if I were asleep, I did not want to alert Colleen to my awakened state but
my heart was racing and I was almost to the point of orgasm I was so
excited. She slowly placed a finger on my nipple, which was already
jutting out rigid through my nightie, I was tempted to respond and let her
know that I was awake but I did not wish to end the moment. I was yearning
for her to play with my nipples and suck them for me but this was a little
impracticable given that she thought I was asleep. She then began to nudge
herself closer to me so that her body was touching mine; I could feel her
nipple on my arm as her breast was pressing against me through the nightie
that I had loaned her. It sounds strange but the fact that she was wearing
my nightie added to the eroticism of the moment? I could sense that she
was shaking nervously as she moved closer and ever so slowly encouraged my
nightie to ride up my thighs, then I felt her skin against my thigh as she
held her mound against my leg, she had obviously raised her nightie and
had been fingering herself because I could feel the sticky wetness on my
thigh. I remained still, praying that she did not suspect that I was
awake, as she moved away from me slightly and placed a hand on my thigh.
She was moving in a discrete way but was obviously rubbing herself as her
hand rested on my thigh, then her breathing gave way to a gasp which she
tried to restrain but I felt her body tense up as she came. I was almost
delirious with lust for her and felt such an exquisite yearning in my
cunny, I was soaking wet and could feel my desire oozing between my
thighs. Very soon after she got up out of bed and went to the bathroom, I
took the opportunity to touch myself but dared not start rubbing in case
she caught me when she returned, I held my arm as still as I could but
moved my fingers discretely. As she climbed back into bed I rolled over
and lay with my back to her, again I discretely squeezed my breasts and
nipples but had to stop because I was almost ready to scream with
frustration and desire. It occurred to me as I lay there that she may have
done this on previous occasions when I had stayed overnight but I had not
known or realised it. My mind was racing as I pictured various scenarios
in which she would fondle and lick me whilst I was sleeping, I struggled
to drop off to sleep but of course did so eventually.
When we awoke next morning I acted as though I had slept like a log and
mentioned to Colleen how strong the wine must have been, I was out cold.
We had coffee and toast before she had to dash across to the other block
and get changed for classes that day. I also recall that I had to launder
both nighties that day because they showed evidence of some excited
activity, there were tell tale stains indicating the mood of the previous
night.
I always remember this event because it was the first time that I ever
seriously considered a long-term relationship with another woman. I
pleasured myself many times thinking about that night with Colleen but I
never once told her that I was awake.
The relationship developed further but I always recall that first
encounter, I will perhaps recount other experiences one day but this is
the end of this one. |
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